"Stop that immediately." She refills my glass from the bottle chilling in the ice bucket. "No thinking allowed tonight. That was the deal."
"When did we make that deal?"
"Just now. I'm making it now." She clinks her glass against mine. "To bad decisions and zero regrets."
I drink to that.
The bass vibrates through the leather seat, through my bones. Bodies move on the dance floor below us, all grinding and heat and temporary connections. Everyone here is looking for something. Escape. Pleasure. Someone to make them forget.
What am I looking for?
The question feels dangerous. I push it away.
"So." Amanda stretches out the word, her eyes getting that scheming glint I know too well. "Are we going to talk about the fact that we got moved to VIP for literally no reason?"
"Maybe they liked your dress."
"V, they gave uscomplimentaryDom Pérignon. Nobody does that unless someone is trying to impress someone." She wiggles her eyebrows. "And since I'm basically a nobody, that means someone is trying to impressyou."
My stomach does something complicated. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm being observant." She leans closer, dropping her voice even though nobody can hear us over the music.
I scan the crowd below, suddenly hyperaware. Is someone watching? The back of my neck prickles. Probably nothing. Probably just paranoia and champagne.
But the feeling won't go away.
"I need to pee," Amanda announces, already sliding out of the booth. "Guard my spot."
She's gone before I can respond, weaving toward the bathroom with the confidence of someone who's never had to check exits or watch for threats.
Must be nice.
Elio's gaze follows her like a compass needle finding true north. Then he glances at me, something apologetic in his expression.
"Go," I tell him. "I'm not going anywhere."
He hesitates. His job is to watchme, not trail after my friend like a lovesick puppy.
"Elio." I soften my voice. "I'll be right here. Two minutes."
He nods once, sharp, and follows Amanda into the crowd.
And just like that, I'm alone.
The solitude lasts approximately forty-five seconds.
"Hey."
I look up to find a guy sliding into Amanda's empty spot. Young. Maybe twenty-two. Expensive watch, cheap cologne, the kind of confidence that comes from never being told no.
"I'm Ben." He flashes what he probably thinks is a charming smile. "I spotted you earlier. Couldn't stop staring."
"Vittoria." I keep my voice polite but flat. No warmth. No invitation.
He doesn't notice. Of course he doesn't.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He scoots closer, and I catch the sharp bite of vodka on his breath. "You here alone?"
