Chapter One

[Vanessa's POV]

Finally, it was time to take this huge step. Being a virgin at twenty-three years old wasn't easy. But after a dare from my friends, I had decided to finally do it.

Tonight, we had all gathered at The Mavens, an insanely popular nightclub. The music was pounding so loudly it could probably deafen anyone. But there was one problem.

I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.

The second we walked through the door, my friends scattered in different directions, shouting their wishful “good lucks” over the deafening music.

And somehow, I ended up at the bar. Just sitting there. I couldn't count how many men had already approached me, but I had turned every single one of them down.

I wasn't interested. None of them caught my eye.

“You sure you don't want anything?” the bartender asked for what felt like the umpteenth time, giving me that unmistakable you're definitely a newcomer look. I let out a heavy breath.

“Okay. Give me the strongest alcoholic drink you have.” I had to do something. Tonight couldn't be a waste. I didn't know when I'd ever build up enough courage to do this again.

“You sure?” the bartender asked, sounding doubtful. I gave him a blank, annoyed look and raised an eyebrow.

“I'm waiting,” I said flatly. A few minutes later, my head was spinning. The alcohol had hit me fast, but I had to admit—my confidence had shot straight to a hundred. I laughed out loud, completely intoxicated, before resting my forehead against the sticky wooden bar. My mind drifted back to a few hours earlier.

“I pick dare,” I had said.

Why not?

I always picked the boring truth. But the moment I saw the mischievous grins spreading across my friends' faces, I instantly regretted my decision. They all leaned into a tight huddle. Without me, of course.

“No takesies-backsies!” Lola shouted quickly, as if she could already read the regret written all over my face. Then she dove back into the group whispering. Finally, they turned around.

“Tonight at the club, I dare you to have a one-night stand with whoever catches your attention.” The rest of the girls quietly cheered.

“What? No way!” I gasped, holding up my hands. “Anything else except losing my virginity!”

“Girl, stop getting so worked up.” Delilah rolled her eyes.

“Come on. You're already twenty-three and you haven't popped that cherry,” Piper said, wrapping her hands around my shoulders. “And don't tell me ‘you know why’ again.”

I breathed out slowly, feeling completely cornered. Deep down, I knew they were right.

“Fine,” I grumbled, entirely unmotivated. They erupted into cheers.

Lola squeezed my arm. “Vanessa, cheer up! The first time is always the best experience.” After that, they spent the next two hours getting me ready, hyping me up, and giving me all sorts of advice about what to do.

And now I was here. Except I still hadn't found anyone. My head throbbed as I finally lifted it from the bar counter. I needed to use the toilet.

More than that, I desperately needed to splash some cold water on my face and clear the fog from my brain. I stumbled off the stool and made my way through the ocean of sweaty, dancing bodies toward the back hallway where the restrooms were located.

The cold water helped a little. I stared at my reflection in the mirror for a moment, trying to strengthen my courage. Then I stepped back into the dimly lit corridor. I barely took two steps before I stopped.

Two towering men in sharp black suits stood directly in my path. They looked completely out of place in a nightclub. They weren't dressed like clubgoers. They looked like lethal bodyguards. Before I could even open my mouth to say excuse me, the taller one stepped forward, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

“You're late.” I blinked. My drunk brain struggled to process his words.

“What?”

“The boss doesn't like to be kept waiting,” the second man grunted. Before I could respond, he grabbed my elbow with a firm, unbreakable grip and began leading me down a quiet, private corridor away from the main club.

“Hey—wait!” I slurred, trying to yank my arm back. “You have the wrong person.”

“Save it for inside,” the first man cut me off coldly. “You were paid a lot of money to make sure he's satisfied tonight. Don't ruin it.” My heart hammered against my ribs. I shouldn't have taken that much alcohol.

Then the alcohol suddenly seemed to disappear from my system as cold panic rushed through me.

Paid?

Satisfied? They thought I was an escort.

“No, wait—” Before I could scream or fight back, the guard pushed open a heavy double door at the end of the hallway and shoved me inside. The doors slammed shut behind me. Then came the heavy click of the lock.

I froze. The room was dimly lit and unnervingly quiet. It smelled of expensive whiskey and dark cedarwood. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.

Then I saw him.

A man sat on a leather couch in the center of the room, a glass of whiskey loosely held in one hand. He was the most terrifyingly handsome man I had ever seen.

He had dark hair, sharp features and a cold, unreadable expression. But something about him seemed... off.

He didn't look like a man who had been waiting impatiently for company. If anything, he looked uncomfortable. Exhausted. Almost distracted.

For a few seconds, he didn't seem to notice me at all. Then his head suddenly snapped toward me. His dark, sharp eyes locked onto mine. The room grew colder as he stared at me.

Then his expression turned into that of irritation.