Chapter Two — Nova

I gulped down the glass of chilled liquid in one go.

My dark eyes watered a little. The burning sensation that tinkled my throat and the slightly sweet aftertaste was strong.

“Another shot.” I slammed the empty glass on the bar.

Music rattled through the floorboards. Behind me, bodies swayed in a blur of heat and flashing lights, but here, tucked under the soft glow of neon, it felt almost private. Glasses clinked, laughter rose and fell, and the smell of citrus and alcohol clung to the air. This was my corner, my escape, where the world dulled just enough to breathe.

“Nova, that’s enough.” The blond bartender gave me a concerned look. “I’m gonna get fired if the manager finds out I’m tending to a seventeen year old.”

“I’m turning eighteen next month, Daryl.” I slurred, trying to be firm. “So, get me another shot of tequila.”

“I think you’re forgetting that you must be twenty one and above to enter this nightclub.”

“Just give me the shot.” I grumbled, leaning further on the bar.

Daryl shook with his head softly before reluctantly heading to pour me another shot.

“Thanks.” I winked at him, a smirk on my face, as I picked up my drink. “You’re quite the gentleman today.”

“Sometimes I regret ever approaching you in the first place.” A small smile played on his lips. “Ever.”

“Says the guy who pestered me for a month just because I blocked him on my socials.”

“Fuck you.”

And we broke into laughter.

Well, that happy moment was quickly washed away when another customer called for his attention. I was left alone with my drink and mobile phone.

A few minutes passed and I was scrolling through Metagram with an empty glass in front of me… Bored…

Until…

A warm, familiar presence took the stool on my left side. So warm yet dark that I almost turned to look… almost.

But then, he spoke, “Does your mom know you’re here? Drinking alcohol at a place unsafe for little girls like you?”

My fingers froze above my lit screen.

I knew that deep, rich voice anywhere. I’ve heard it a good number of times to know who it belonged to.

I turned.

And I saw him, dressed in white sleeves and black pants, a half filled glass in his big strong hand, and that crisply sharp yet hot look.

Adrian Castellane.

Billionaire CEO of Castellane Group — a chain of high-end hotels.

Heir to The Castellane Estates — centuries-old dynasty of vineyards, villas, and heritage lands, now reborn as a symbol of timeless luxury.

And finally, Bruno’s elder brother — the one he despised and envied so much.

“I don’t think that's any of your business, Mr. Castellane.” My voice hardened. “And besides, what’s a man like you doing at a cheap nightclub like this? Run out of money?”

My glare intensified. “Or do you have a death wish?”

Adrian snorted.

Amusement gleamed in his dark eyes. He took me in — my appearance, everything.

“I think you might’ve forgotten who you’re speaking with.” His voice was dangerously low but the amusement in his eyes didn’t dim. “… Nova.”

With chin lifted up, I met his gaze defiantly. “I do know who I’m speaking with, Mr Castellane. And it’s the reason why I’m asking what you’re doing here?”

Adrian scoffed.

He downed his glass of drink. And he didn’t even make a face, something I always did whenever I took alcohol. Instead, he gestured for the bartender to get him another drink.

It was at this moment I took a good look at Adrian — His dark eyes were almost unreadable, steady in a way that made me feel like he saw too much, and his hair—just as dark—fell neatly as though even chaos wouldn’t dare touch him.

My gaze caught on the ink along his neck, a sharp black mark of Chinese script etched just below his ear, bold against his skin. It shouldn’t have suited him, not with that tailored composure, but somehow it made him sharper, untouchable—like danger disguised in elegance.

Adrian Castellane — the man whose presence made the room bend toward him without a word.

“Are you checking me out?” He finally held my gaze again. A small smile on his face. “Damn, Nova, I didn’t know you were into men in their late twenties.”

It took God’s grace for me to keep a straight face and not gag.

“Why are you here?”

The bartender brought his drink and left. He took a slow sip from the glass and set it back on the bar.

Every trace of amusement fled from his countenance, leaving dark and unreadable… and undeniably hot.

His voice came out surprisingly gentle and warm. “I heard about the break up.”

The word ‘breakup’ barely left his mouth before my chest tightened.

Two days wasn’t enough time for the ache to dull, not when it was his younger brother who left me standing there like a fool. I hated that Adrian knew—hated that his dark eyes softened like pity belonged anywhere near me.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” I muttered, sharper than I meant to.

The wound was still bleeding, and he was the last person I wanted pressing on it.

“You don’t need my sympathy. But you deserve better than his carelessness.”

Never in my life had I expected such considerate words from Adrian. Not from him — the arrogant, know-it-all brother.

“Yeah, whatever.” I shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the words stung deeper than I cared to admit.

He muttered almost to himself, “If only I could teach him a lesson worth regretting. Maybe then he’d understand some things aren’t his to ruin.”

A strange warmth coursed through me at his words, settling in places I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I know a lesson good enough,” I said before I could stop myself.

Adrian’s eyes flicked to me. “You?”

“Date me.”

His brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

I steadied my breath. “You heard me, Mr. Castellane.”

He chuckled, low and disbelieving. “That must be the alcohol talking.”

“I’m perfectly sober. And it’s a good idea.”

His voice hardened. “I don’t date my little brother’s ex. And you’re—too young.”

My nose flared. “Don’t you dare call me a child, Castellane.”

I grabbed my purse, rising from the seat. “Forget it. I’m leaving. Have a miserable night.”

“Sit down, Nova.” The command cracked through the air.

I froze. The authority in his tone infuriated me—yet part of me thrilled at it.

“You don’t own me,” I shot back.

“You’re not walking out alone at this hour. Sit.”

“Make me.”

His jaw tightened. “I won’t repeat myself.”

I smirked, daring him. “If you think that scowl of yours is supposed to scare me, you’re funnier than I thought.”

“Nova…” His patience frayed, voice edged with warning.

I leaned closer, smiling sweetly. “It’s a win-win, Castellane. I get back at your brother, and you get to teach him a lesson.”

For a long beat, he just stared, weighing me. I could see the conflict etched across his face — reason battling something darker, something he didn’t want to name.

Finally, with a sigh, he muttered, “Fine. Just sit your ass down.”

My lips curved. “Gladly.”