There was no altar, no witnesses.
Yet it was a sacred union—two hearts surrendering in the dark.
* * *
I close my eyes under the pounding shower and rest my head on my knees.
The cruelest part?
Some distant, defiant part of me still wants to believe he meant every word.
Chapter 2
IN THE SHADOW OF HER FLAME
Not every fire is meant to warm
Dorian
Out of all the clubs in the whole damn world, she walked into mine. Just like in the movies. Only this isn’t a movie. This is my life. My curse.
I hadn’t planned to be at Excalibur tonight. I barely show up on weekends anymore. But something restless had been crawling under my skin all day. A hum I couldn’t quiet.
Now I know why.
I was at the back entrance, heading for the office, when something pulled at me. Like an invisible string snapping taut beneath my ribs. I turned. And I saw it.
A flash of red. A dress clinging to a body I knew better than my own shadow. Shimmering under the neon lights, hugging her curves like flame licking over skin. Her hair—pulled into a high, defiant ponytail—exposed her neck, her posture, her control. Chestnut waves still managed to spill down her back. And her hips... swayed like a rhythm I’ve never unlearned.
My heart didn’t just stop. It detonated.
Because even before my brain caught up, my body already knew. She was here.
Della.
And I wasn’t ready.
God, I wasn’t ready to see her again. And definitely not like that. Pinned to the wall. Another man inside her. Her hands on his back. Her eyes… empty.
Like the soul behind them had been extinguished.
And that wrecked me.
She didn’t see me at first. I just stood there. Frozen. The breath knocked out of me like I’d been punched in the chest. But when her eyes finally found mine—
I saw it.
Not hate. Not love. Worse. Nothing.
I pour myself a glass of whiskey from the small cabinet by the wall. The amber liquid sloshes in the crystal tumbler, but my hand is steady. Too steady. Like calm before collapse.
David walks in without knocking. Of course. He never knocks. Never had to.
I don’t even look at him. Just stare into the whiskey glass.
“She is here.” I let him know.
“She?”
