A woman in the crowd spoke up. "He's right. She looked scared."
Another guy, who had been laughing before, cleared his throat. "Yeah, man… That was kinda messed up."
The man in the suit felt it too.
His grip on his own power, his control, was slipping.
His confidence wavered, his gaze darting around as the pressure of the room bore down on him.
I stepped back, giving him space to make his choice.
He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders like he could shake off the weight of the realization. "Whatever," he muttered, stepping back. "She's not worth the trouble."
The second he turned away, the tension in the air snapped.
People clapped. Some even whistled.
Lisa smirked, crossing her arms. "Well, well, well. Mr. Knight in Shining Armor."
Tasha's grin was slow and knowing. "That was hot."
Mia folded her arms, her eyes gleaming with admiration. "Total gentleman. Where do we find more like you?"
John clapped me on the shoulder. "Damn, man. That was next-level."
The woman looked at me, her brown eyes full of gratitude. "Thank you," she said softly.
I just nodded. "No one should have to deal with that."
She gave me a small smile before slipping into the crowd, disappearing into the night.
Lisa, Tasha, and Mia were still grinning at me like I'd just walked off a movie set.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "It's nothing like that," I said, brushing them off.
But the truth? I knew it was something.
Some lines had to be drawn.
And tonight, I had made damn sure one of them was.
The hours slipped away in a blur of music, laughter, and the intoxicating haze of neon lights.
John, Mia, Lisa, Tasha, and I moved through the club like we owned the night—drinking, dancing, bodies swaying to the heavy bass that pulsed through the floor. The air was thick with the scent of liquor and perfume, the kind of heady combination that made everything feel electric.
Tasha threw her head back, laughing as Lisa spun her around in an exaggerated twirl, their movements reckless, wild. Mia leaned into John, murmuring something in his ear that made him grin, his arm slung lazily around her waist.
I took a slow sip from my glass, letting the burn of the alcohol settle in my chest as I watched them, a lazy smirk playing on my lips.
"This is fun," Lisa said, breathless, her cheeks flushed.
Tasha grinned. "Damn right it is. I could stay here forever."
Mia clinked her glass against mine. "To a night we won't forget."
We all laughed, drunk on the moment, on each other.
The club had a way of warping time—one second, we were dancing, teasing, playing in the neon glow, and the next, lips were crashing, hands roaming on each others body and slipping into the senstive places, rubbing, stroking and feeling heat. The space between us nonexistent. Kisses were stolen like secrets, and none of us cared to keep track of who initiated what.
Lisa's lips were soft and slow, teasing. Tasha bit my lower lip when she pulled away, her eyes gleaming. Mia hummed against my mouth, her nails raking over my skin. Google seaʀᴄh Novᴇl_Fire(.)net
It was heat and hunger, a messy tangle of bodies pressed too close, teasing smiles exchanged between drinks.
Then, amidst the heat of it all, a firm weight settled on my shoulder.
A touch—measured, deliberate.
I turned, my gaze colliding with the sharp, assessing stare of a man in a black suit.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, his presence an unspoken authority that cut through the noise of the club. The dim lighting cast shadows across the hard lines of his face, but even in the flickering glow of the strobes, I could see the precision in his stance.
Controlled. Unyielding. A presence that commanded.
"Come with me," he said, his voice low, clipped.
I studied him for a second, then arched a brow. "And you are?"
He didn't answer. Didn't need to. The way he held himself screamed bodyguard.
I could feel my friends shift around me, their attention snapping toward us.
John straightened. "What's this about?"
Lisa crossed her arms. "Yeah, who are you?"
Mia's eyes narrowed slightly. "Is there a problem?"
The man barely spared them a glance before raising his hand, a silent command that spoke louder than words. "Only him."
Tasha clicked her tongue. "The hell kind of shady shit is this?"
I exhaled through my nose, half amused, half curious.
My gaze flickered toward them. They were watching me, waiting, concern creeping into their expressions.
I gave them a small, reassuring smirk. "Relax. I'll be back."
Lisa wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"
I tilted my head slightly. "It's fine."
Mia exhaled sharply, but she nodded. "Alright. Be careful."
John gave me a look that said, "Don't do anything stupid."
I grinned. "No promises."
Then, with a final glance at them, I turned and followed the man in the black suit.
The music faded behind us, swallowed by the low hum of the club's back corridors. The further we walked, the quieter it became, the neon glow giving way to dim overhead lights that cast everything in shadow.
I fell in step behind him, observing.
His back was huge—broad, solid muscle shifting beneath the tailored suit. Everything about him was calculated, efficient. He didn't walk so much as move with purpose.
A professional. A guard.
Who the hell am I about to meet?
The air around us was thick with unspoken tension.
I could feel it in the way he didn't hold conversation, didn't even acknowledge my presence beyond ensuring I followed.
Strong. Disciplined. Definitely a bodyguard.
I slid my hands into my pockets, my steps unhurried, casual. "So," I drawled, "do I at least get a name, or are we doing the whole mystery man in a suit routine?"
He didn't answer. Didn't even flinch.
I let out a soft chuckle. "Right. The silent type."
The path stretched longer than I expected, each step taking me further into unfamiliar territory. But the curiosity burning in my chest outweighed any hesitation.
Whoever this man worked for, they wanted to see me.
And that? That was interesting.
I rolled my shoulders, exhaling as I walked.
"Alright then," I muttered under my breath. "Let's see what this is all about."