Chapter 4

MIRANDA

TWO AND A HALF HOURS LATER...

I bit my lip and decided to leave my hair down. Looking in the mirror, I wondered if I was too pale, looking like a ghost. My black hair wasn't doing this ghostly appearance any favors either. My makeup was simple, and a light pink lipstick was the only thing bringing color to my face.

My white dress, which hit above the knee, showed off my thighs, which were thick and toned from my 5:00 AM runs. The dress, with some lace details on the sweetheart neckline, ended up making my bust look bigger than it already was. And as relatively modest as it was in the front, the back was a completely different story, plunging low enough to show a good portion of my back. It was a bit too revealing, which didn't help my insecurity at all.

And no, I wasn't some shy virgin. Yes, I used to be a dancer who performed practically naked for a male audience while hiding my identity behind a black feather mask. But that didn't change the fact that it felt uncomfortable to wear highly revealing clothes and draw attention; it wasn't something I normally did.

"You look beautiful," Andrea said, walking into the bathroom while putting on her earrings.

She had opted for black pants that looked more like a second skin, a simple deep red top with no extravagant details, and a pair of her signature stiletto heels. She gave a mocking smile as soon as she saw my tight expression, noticing my conservative look, which she adamantly protested we wouldn't be wearing for this one night.

That bitch is going to pay, I thought, looking back at my reflection in the mirror that took up most of the bathroom wall.

"Don't you think this dress is a little... indecent?"

"Indecent are the thoughts men are going to have as soon as they see us dancing. Or did you give up on your plan to have some fun? Don't you want to make up for six weeks of lost time anymore?"

I looked at her awkwardly, remembering what I had said loud and clear for everyone to hear when getting off the plane half an hour ago.

"Tonight I'm going to fuck until I forget my own name!"

I pursed my lips and grumbled under my breath. Honestly, I hate it when I'm drunk. The filter on my mouth just vanishes, and I say whatever is on my mind, damn the consequences. I turn into a depraved slut. And even if I looked sober, the alcohol was definitely still flowing through my veins. I watched Andrea sigh after applying her lipstick and turning to face me. Her hands touched my dark locks, and finally, she said:

"Are you sure you aren't into..."

"No, I prefer men," I cut in, feeling my cheeks flush.

Andrea smiled, completely unfazed. She still hadn't given up on trying to bring me over to the dark side.

"Ready to mess with some playboy's head?" she asked with a grin.

I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. And as relatively sober as I was, I hadn't changed my mind. Tonight I was going to fuck like an animal in heat, or my name wasn't Miranda Taylor.

I nodded, receiving a light smack on the ass right after. Laughing, we left our hotel room, ready for an unforgettable night.

MARLON WHITAKER

The place was packed. The club's lights flashed in shades of blue and white, and the electronic music drove the crowd to dance wildly on the dance floor. Even amidst that small crowd, I walked with confidence, like I owned the world, determined only to reach my destination: the tattooed blonde sitting at the most secluded table in that Las Vegas club.

I had spotted her the moment I stepped foot in there. Julianne Bennett was the kind of woman whose presence was noticeable wherever she went, both for her beauty and her trademark way of staring with such intensity that it could disarm anyone. Blessed with an angelic face (which was ironic since the woman was the devil herself) with soft features, light green eyes, and sandy blonde hair, along with her striking personality, the younger sister of my friend Brad Bennett and one of the marketing directors of my future company, raised an eyebrow as soon as I sat down across from her.

"Thanks for coming," I muttered, genuinely glad she was here.

Julianne shrugged and poured a drink for me. We just stared at each other for a long second before I downed the liquor.

"So, what was so urgent?" she finally asked, always straight to the point.

I weighed whether I should just get right to it. I leaned back in my seat and ran my thumb over my lips before speaking.

"How do you feel about us getting married?"