Chapter One

Lana's POV

I downed the next glass of whiskey. I’d stopped counting after the third. My vision was already a little blurry, and the burn in my throat had turned into a dull comfort, but it wasn't comforting enough.

If I kept drinking, maybe I’d stop seeing Zane's face in my mind, or hers.

Sandra.

My best friend.

I laughed bitterly and blinked back the tears that kept threatening to fall. I kept telling myself I was better off without them, but it felt like a big lie. I still felt like my world revolved around them.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the bar mirror — smudged eyeliner, a tight red dress that now felt more like a costume than confidence, and eyes filled with disappointment.

"Cheers to betrayal," I muttered under my breath, raising the glass again.

It had only been a few hours since I walked into Zane’s apartment unannounced, hoping to surprise him with dinner. Instead, I found his hands tangled in Sandra’s hair, her lips on his neck, the same neck I used to kiss every morning. Then she went down to his d*ck, giving him a blow job right in front of me.

The same girl I told all my secrets to. She knew everything, yet she did it. I never knew betrayal could be as painful as this. It felt like my heart was shattered into a million pieces. When I confronted them, they laughed at me and called me stupid.

Now, here I was, in a dimly lit bar on the edge of the city, trying to drink away the humiliation. I chuckled.

"Mind if I sit?" a voice said smoothly beside me.

I turned, a little too fast, and nearly toppled off the bar-stool. I caught myself just in time, blinking up at him.

A tall, very handsome guy stood there, with dark eyes that seemed to see more than I wanted anyone to see, and a jawline that looked carved from stone. He had jet black hair which looked a bit rough, and he was putting on a white buttoned up shirt and black suit pants.

"I noticed you from across the bar, and you look really nice, but are you okay?" he asked, one brow raised.

I forced a laugh. "Define 'okay.'"

He smiled, not in a mocking way, but like he genuinely found that answer amusing.

“Fair enough. What’s a beautiful girl like you drinking alone?” He pulled out the chair beside me and took a seat.

I narrowed my eyes. "You’re not about to give me some tired pickup line, are you?"

He laughed. A low, rich sound that sent chills through me.

“No lines. It's just out of curiosity.” We stared at each other for a few seconds, his dark eyes mesmerized me.

I studied with him. He didn’t look like the usual bar creeps. He had a calm presence, the kind that filled the room without trying. Like someone used to being in control.

“Let’s just say my day didn’t go as planned.” I took a sip of the drink Jake, the bartender had filled. Jake served Mr Stranger without waste of time. I assumed he was one of the regulars here.

“Bad breakup?” He took a sip of his drink, without breaking eye contact.

I raised an eyebrow. “That obvious?”

“You’re drinking whiskey straight at 11 p.m. wearing heels you probably hate. It’s either heartbreak or tax season.” He grinned.

I chuckled despite my situation.

“He didn't break my heart. He broke his own because he had just lost someone he'll always regret.”

He nodded slowly. “Then, whoever he is, he's an idiot.”

“That’s exactly what I said. I don't want to bore you with my past relationship. The past is in the past. So tell me about yourself.” I downed the glass in front of me. Then I rested my hand on my chin, trying to appear serious.

"I'm just a normal guy that came to take a few glasses of whiskey, and maybe a girl to spend the night with." He grinned, swirling the liquid in his glass.

"There are a lot of pretty girls here tonight, and you don't look so bad yourself." I looked around, some female strippers kept their gaze on him, probably hoping that he would go with any of them.

"Thank you, but I think I've found the right girl, and she's the prettiest girl in this room." He looked at me, then he grinned.

I nodded, leaning back in my seat. Great, I have a crush on someone who is crushing on someone else. I looked at his dimple on the right side of his face, every time he smiled. His eyes had a light glow under the blue lights, he was so attractive.

We kept talking. Somehow, he made me forget the betrayal for a little while. He asked about my work, my dreams, even made me laugh when I thought I didn't want to. I didn’t know his name yet, and strangely, I didn’t ask. I didn’t want reality creeping into this beautiful moment.

But eventually, the room spun a little too much, and I felt my balance shift. I almost fell off the chair, but he held me steady.

“Hey,” I heard him say gently.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I'm not. You're very attractive, and I like you,” I mumbled. I placed my hand on his shoulder. The alcohol kicked in strongly.

I didn't know where the boldness came from, but I got closer, and pecked his lips and sat down with a little smile on my lips.

“I don’t think you understand what you’re saying. You need a rest, you’ve had a rough day.” He caressed my hair softly.

"I'm drawn to you, and I really like you. Let's have sex." I slid my hand down to his crouch. He held my hand firmly, but not tightly. I don't know where I got this confidence from, but I love it.

He whispered into my ear, "You're a brave little girl. Why don't we take this upstairs and have some fun? You don't know how much I've been wanting to get into you."

His voice was smooth and deep.

"Then what are you waiting for?" I looked at his eyes, and gave him a wink. He lifted me from the seat as if I weighted nothing. I clung onto his neck, and my legs wrapped around his waist. I ran my hands through his hair. He groaned in a sexual way. I was turned on by the sound of that. He spanked my butt, and walked into one of the VIP rooms.

He carefully laid me on the bed, and kissed me deeply. Our lips moved in sync, I sucked his lower lip softly. Then he went down to my neck, in the same soft motion. I let out a low moan.

He removed his white shirt, tossed it across the room, then he spread my legs open and knelt down.