Chapter 2 Stare Off
My body was still buzzing from the concert.
The music lingered in my veins. The bass had rattled my bones for three straight hours, and somehow I still wanted more.
That was one of the things I loved most about concerts.
Nobody stared at you.
Nobody cared what you looked like.
Everyone watched the artist. Everyone surrendered to the music.
For a few hours, you could disappear.
But now?
Now I wanted to be looked at.
Like Owen looked at me.
Oh God, shut up.
My inner voice practically screamed.
We hate Owen.
He is a cocky asshole.
A giant, annoying, arrogant asshole who still teased me like we were children.
"No guy that likes you will ever be mean to you."
My mother's words echoed through my head.
"If he likes you and picks on you, he's emotionally constipated and not worth the trouble."
He is emotionally constipated. He is also cocky.
My lips curved despite myself.
Idiot, my inner voice snapped.
What can I say?
I have selective hearing.
"Are you coming in, or are you planning to spend the entire night in the parking lot?"
Melanie's voice dragged me from my thoughts.
I looked up at the glowing sign.
The Green Door.
One of the most well-known sex clubs in Las Vegas.
Only ten minutes from my mother's penthouse.
Convenient.
I liked coming here for random hookups.
Dating requires effort.
Expectations.
Phone calls.
Texts.
Getting to know people.
And inevitably, every time a guy met Catori, I became an afterthought.
So why bother?
Nadia and Eve waved me forward.
I pushed away from my Bentley and followed them.
My friends were something else.
We'd been together since middle school.
Melanie Perry was a model.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Legs for days.
Most of the time she wore her hair in box braids because she loved them.
Nadia Hristova was the daughter of a mafia don.
Honestly, she was scarier than her father.
He joked all the time that he planned to leave everything to her someday.
I believed him.
We became friends because so much of my father's family overlapped with hers.
That's how we met.
At Uncle Illia's house during one of his birthday celebrations after he took over the family business following my grandfather's death.
Then there was Eve Martinez.
Spoiled rotten.
Hopelessly spoiled.
Trust-fund baby.
Horse girl.
Professional shopper.
She had absolutely no ambition beyond looking pretty and being someone's arm candy.
And somehow we still loved her.
The second we stepped inside the club, the scent hit me.
Everything smelled expensive.
Perfume.
Cologne.
Leather.
Something darker underneath.
The first floor was known as the Cage.
A massive open room lined with gym mats.
The group event area.
Observation couches sat behind decorative barriers for people who preferred to watch.
We skipped right past it.
The second floor was where the bar lived.
After grabbing a round of fruity drinks, we claimed a table and settled in.
Then we waited.
Because men always circled eventually.
The Green Door attracted the best and worst of Las Vegas.
Lawyers.
Doctors.
Athletes.
Criminals.
Morally gray men with too much money and questionable decision-making skills.
I sipped my drink.
Honestly, I wasn't even looking for anyone tonight.
I wasn't really in the mood.
Across from me, Eve shoved her hand down the front of her dress.
Nadia nearly choked.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Adjusting," Eve replied.
"Duh."
"In the bathroom," Melanie begged.
"Seriously?"
Eve pointed around the room.
Everywhere we looked, people were half naked.
Sex club.
Hello.
The four of us burst out laughing.
Then a chill crawled across my skin.
I frowned.
That feeling again.
Like someone was watching me.
I scanned the room.
Nothing.
Nobody seemed interested in us.
People danced.
Flirted.
Drank.
Laughed.
Smoke drifted near the ceiling.
There was always at least one asshole smoking a cigar the size of a baseball bat.
Not that I minded smoking.
The cigars were just comically large.
I was apparently fifteen years old inside.
Nadia suddenly stood.
One of her regular fuckbuddy was waiting near the staircase leading to the private rooms upstairs.
Private was a generous description.
The themed rooms on the third floor all had one-way glass walls.
Nothing was really private.
A few seconds later, Nadia disappeared.
We wouldn't see her again tonight.
Melanie reached over and squeezed my hand.
"Let's go dance."
"Ugh."
Eve rolled her eyes dramatically.
"We just danced for three hours."
She twirled a strand of hair around her finger.
"I came for dick."
Melanie waved her off.
I laughed and stood.
Why not?
A little more dancing wouldn't kill me.
The two of us moved through the crowd and down a long hallway.
We passed the pool area.
The spa.
Then the dance floor opened up before us.
We found a spot near the edge.
Never the middle.
The middle was where drinks got spilled and strangers stepped on your feet.
The music tonight was haunting.
Dark.
Hypnotic.
The kind of rhythm that settled beneath your skin.
"You know we could've just gone to my dad's place," I told Melanie.
"Yeah, but we're already here."
She grinned.
I rolled my eyes.
Fair.
I let the music carry me away.
For a while, I forgot about everything.
Work.
Family.
Owen.
Especially Owen.
It wasn't long before men started approaching us.
Of course.
Melanie was already chatting with two of them.
The third one looked me over carefully.
I was irritated instantly.
"Do you want to dance?" I asked.
He blinked. "Yes. Sorry. You just look scary."
The Scandinavian accent made it even funnier.
I couldn't help laughing.
My mouth stayed somewhere between a smirk and a smile.
"You should smile more."
I stared at him.
Then repeated his words.
"You should smile more."
The idiot actually smiled.
I grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.
"Good boy."
His eyes widened.
Interesting.
I released him.
A few minutes later he moved behind me.
Not crowding.
Not pushing.
Just close enough.
His hands settled carefully on my hips.
I let him pull me back.
The music pulsed around us.
The movement between us grew slower.
More deliberate.
One of his hands drifted over my stomach.
Heat unfurled low inside me.
Well.
Apparently I was in the mood after all.
Then that feeling returned.
The sensation of being watched.
Stronger this time.
The man behind me lowered his chin toward my shoulder.
"My name is Nils."
I turned slightly.
Our faces were close.
"I'm Katia."
Then I looked past him.
Scanning.
Searching.
Again.
And again.
And then I found him.
My breath caught.
Owen.
He stepped from the shadows near the back of the room.
Not hiding.
Not approaching.
Just watching.
The lights shifted across his face.
Hazel eyes.
Curly brown hair.
Broad shoulders.
A body built like he spent his free time carrying buildings.
He wasn't smiling.
That was what unsettled me.
Owen always smiled.
Always joked.
Always teased.
Not tonight.
Tonight he simply stared.
Nils's hands moved across my waist.
Asking permission with every touch.
Consent mattered here.
I nodded when he quietly checked in.
His confidence grew.
His hands became bolder.
My eyes never left Owen.
And Owen's eyes never left me.
He watched every movement.
Every touch.
Every inch Nils's hands traveled.
Something twisted inside me.
Hot.
Dangerous.
Confusing.
I lifted one arm and rested it behind me across Nils's shoulders.
Nils immediately pulled me closer.
The movement between us intensified.
Still Owen watched.
His jaw tightened.
His eyes darkened.
And for the first time in my life, I saw something there I had never seen before.
Not amusement.
Not irritation.
Not teasing.
Possession.
The realization hit me like a punch.
No.
Nope.
Absolutely not.
We did not like Owen.
We hated Owen.
I forced myself to look away.
Because if I kept staring, I wasn't sure what would happen.
And somehow losing the stare-down felt worse than keeping it.
I turned toward Nils.
Focused on him.
Focused on literally anything else.
But the second, I broke eye contact with Owen—
I missed it.
Missed him watching me.
Missed the heat.
Missed whatever the hell had just happened between us.
Then Nils leaned down and whispered something into my ear.
Something that made my entire body go cold.
Because when I looked back toward the shadows—
Owen was gone.
