The uneventful drive from campus passes quickly, and soon we’re crossing the bridge from New Jersey into Manhattan. The moment the car stops in front of a skyscraper made of glass, I stumble out.
New York just hits different. You love it or hate it; it’s still fascinating, driving millions toward it as if the city hides a treasure. Its nickname is the Big Apple, but it might as well be the center of the world.
Plus, the anonymity this city provides is unmatched. I drift into a fantasy, picturing how it would feel to walk around, unbothered that someone might recognize me.Such a dreamy scenario.
Evie grips my hand, yanking me out of my mental trance, and shows the invite to the security guys who are also wearing masks.
This is it. There’s no going back.
At the bank of elevators, another two guards wait. After a quick check, they let us in, one swiping a key card for the top level.
With each floor, my pulse spikes. My heart races, threatening to shoot out of my chest and splatter on the floor in a pool of nerves. I could faint at any moment now. Lifting a palm to my chest, I urge myself to calm down. There’s no way back and causing a scene would ruin everything.
The doors open, and I forget everything, not believing the sheer space, the luxury surrounding me. It’s pure decadence, with the glittering crystal chandeliers hanging from the tall ceiling reflecting in the impeccable black marble floors, and a panoramic view of New York that has my mouth gaping.
In a corner, a quartet plays soulful music that travels through the strings of chatter.
“I know, right?” Evie says, echoing my thoughts.
A server passes us, carrying a tray of golden, bubbly liquid, and she plucks two glasses of champagne, handing me one.
“To an unforgettable night,” she says, the sound of the glasses clinking reverberating through my insides.
People steal glances at us. Under their scrutiny, I touch my mask, willing it to stay in place. But we, the newcomers, are quickly forgotten, the guests returning to their conversations, engrossed in their own importance. The people gathered drip with money, from their sparkling jewelry to elegant watches and their couture clothes. It’s a silent show of wealth and power—see and be seen.
Evie comes to an abrupt stop, and I follow her gaze.
He must be the one. People buzz around Demyan, clamoring for his attention. Even behind that black mask, I can tell he’s bored, oozing impatience and dark vibes. The elegant suit does nothing to hide his dangerous nature, his tattoos only emphasize it.
I sigh, knowing it’s too late to warn her he’s not a good man.
Then, as if he senses her, his face snaps to Evie. He watches her with fire burning in his eyes, making me wonder how it would feel to be looked at like that—enraptured like you’re the orbit he follows.
She glances back at me and I offer her an encouraging smile. “Go, enjoy. I’ll just people-watch.”
“No, we came together,” she says, but her tone, laced with longing, betrays her desire.
Plucking my phone from the clutch, I glance at the time and tell her. “Four hours. I have to study tomorrow, and so do you.”
She squeals, kisses my cheek, and sashays over to him. With a hand gesture, people part for him, and he cuts the distance to meet her.
Their encounter oozes with intimacy, making me feel like a voyeur.
Now what? Sipping champagne, I look around, feeling out of place, and seek somewhere to hide before it’s time to leave. A man finds my eyes, the smirk revealing his interest. He strides my way as if he had found a challenge.Wrong woman, buddy.
I am here for a change of scenery and not to cause bloodshed.
At that thought, I walk away in the opposite direction, moving through the crowd with ease, not bumping into anyone after years of practice.
I slip through the glass door onto the terrace for some undisturbed time. The New York skyline greets me, and I gasp at the sheer magnitude.
The sound must have drawn attention because a man cocks his head my way, stealing the breath from my lungs. He’s not merely handsome; he’s something else entirely. A man with the beauty of an angel and the magnetic allure of the devil.
His dark eyes bore into mine. His deep gaze alone keeps me there, rooted to the spot. I can’t run away from this man that I know without a doubt could ruin me.
2
TRISTAN
