The awful feeling finally started to fade, but a few drops of the spilled drink had stained my dress. They were barely visible, but I knew they were there. My hands hadn’t escaped either—they were still sticky in the most humiliating way.
Locked away in the ladies’ room, I tried to clean myself up, already knowing I wanted to go home. That rich asshole had looked at me like I was something disgusting stuck to the bottom of his shoe, then acted like I wasn’t even worth a response. Way to ruin an evening.
My phone rang inside my purse, and I grabbed it while still holding the hem of my dress under the hand dryer.
"Zoe, when are you coming home?" Valeri’s excited voice burst through the speaker.
I pulled the phone away for a second and glanced at the time. Yeah. I’d been here long enough.
"Soon, I think. Judging by your voice, meeting your fiancé went well?"
"Better than well! Zoe, he’s gorgeous. Seriously, you should’ve seen him. He’s so polite, so sweet... and the way he looked at me..." She let out a dreamy sigh. "It made me feel... I don’t know... something."
"Turned on?" I offered with a laugh.
"Zoe!" she gasped, scandalized.
I laughed again.
If my sister liked him that much, then he was probably a good guy. I already respected him a little, even though we hadn’t met.
"No, seriously," she rushed on. "I think I fell in love at first sight. Please come home soon. I’m literally going to explode if I don’t tell someone everything."
"Are Mom and Dad home?" I asked, mostly out of curiosity. I couldn’t help wondering if anyone besides Valeri had even noticed I was gone.
"No. They dropped me off, Mom changed, and then they left for some private event."
"Of course they did," I muttered.
Nothing ever changed. I was still invisible in my own house. Honestly, if it weren’t for the surgery when we were kids—when I had to donate stem cells and blood to Valeri—I probably would’ve convinced myself I was adopted. The only thing proving we were related was the cluster of birthmarks across my back, exactly like Mom’s and Valeri’s.
"I’ll be home soon, Valeri."
I ended the call, looked at myself in the mirror, and let out a quiet sigh. Was it really because of how I looked? The way I dressed? Why did they treat us so differently? Valeri was loved, adored, spoiled. I was just... there. An inconvenience nobody wanted.
I headed back into the club, planning to sneak out without anyone noticing, but basic manners won out. I should at least tell my friends I was leaving.
Kriss was sitting at the table with the two guys, and for once they weren’t laughing or causing chaos. Sergey waved me over, and before I could protest, I found myself trapped between two stubborn idiots who clearly had no intention of letting me leave.
Not that they got a vote.
Once I made up my mind, that was it. Kriss knew that better than anyone.
"Come on, Zoe, stay a little longer," she whined, grabbing my hand like I was about to make a run for it. "I ordered you a mojito. Maybe that’ll change your mind?"
She pushed a glass toward me. Mint leaves and lime slices floated in the pale green liquid. Usually it was one of my favorite drinks.
Usually.
"Sorry. I’m leaving. I’ll leave my card with you so security doesn’t give you any trouble," I said firmly, getting to my feet.
For a second, something dark flashed across Kriss’s face, but it disappeared just as quickly. She covered it with a wounded look, her eyes immediately going shiny.
Typical.
Kriss was a manipulator. If begging didn’t work, she’d move straight to guilt and tears.
Good thing she wasn’t looking directly at me. One glance at my face and she would’ve known exactly what I thought of that act.
Miron slid the glass back toward me and lifted his own, full of something I couldn’t even identify. I leaned closer and sniffed my mojito carefully. The three of them had tried to get me drunk before, but this time I couldn’t smell any alcohol besides what should’ve been there.
I took a long sip.
Cold, sweet, refreshing.
Despite myself, I smiled.
"Fine. Five minutes. But that’s it."
"Of course," Miron said, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
Kriss and Sergey grinned and went back to drinking like they were dying of thirst.
"I can walk you home later, Zoe," Miron added.
He switched into what he probably thought was his charming mode and took my hand.
My stupid, inexperienced heart had no idea what love was supposed to feel like, but I knew one thing for sure: when I did fall in love someday, it definitely wouldn’t be with either of them. I knew my friends too well for that.
The next few minutes dragged on forever.
Little by little, I stopped feeling like myself. A heavy drowsiness settled over me, pressing down on my eyelids. My eyes burned like I hadn’t slept in days. My body felt warm and heavy, and my thoughts started slipping through my fingers, slow and blurry.
Seriously?
Was I actually about to fall asleep in the middle of a club?
"I think I should go," I said, forcing myself to stand.
Only Kriss was still at the table. She was typing furiously on her phone, but when she noticed me, she got to her feet too, swaying slightly.
Yeah. We both needed to get home.
I managed to swallow the first yawn, but the next one hit me so hard my eyes watered.
"Are you okay, Zoe?" Kriss asked, slipping her arm through mine. "Maybe we should get you home."
"You don’t look so great either," I said, glancing down at her.
She was standing there in one shoe.
Kriss burst out laughing and ducked under the table to look for the other one.
"Maybe we should just go together," I said. "You’re drunk, and I can barely keep my eyes open."
"Yeah..." She shoved her shoe back on and grabbed my arm again. "But first let’s find the guys. I saw them go upstairs."
"Upstairs?" I frowned, looking toward the staircase.
The VIP area was up there, hidden behind the balcony level, but neither Sergey nor Miron were anywhere downstairs.
We couldn’t leave without saying goodbye... could we?
Step by step, we made our way upstairs. My head felt heavier with every second, and dragging myself up the stairs while Kriss leaned half her weight against me felt almost impossible.
"There," she said, pointing toward a door.
We stepped into a narrow hallway lit by dim golden lights.
"There’s nobody here," I muttered, staring at the closed doors lining the corridor.
The room spun.
I caught myself against the wall, breathing hard. What the hell was wrong with me? I could’ve curled up right there on the floor and gone to sleep without caring.
"Kriss, let’s go back. I don’t feel good."
Everything blurred.
The next thing I knew, I was in some unfamiliar room.
Maybe I was imagining it.
Or maybe I really was sitting on the edge of a huge bed.
Silky sheets brushed against my fingertips, soft and cool, and before I could stop myself, I leaned into them.
Warm light filled the room.
A door opened.
I wasn’t drunk. Not really. I was too aware for that. My head was foggy, but I still recognized the man standing in front of me immediately.
The same one I’d spilled my cocktail on.
"So the money wasn’t enough to pay for your jacket?" I snapped, glaring at him.
"Disgusting," he said coldly.
His eyes swept over me like he couldn’t stand the sight.
"I thought you agreed to this. You’ve got terrible friends, girl." His mouth twisted. "So tell me... what exactly am I supposed to do with you now?"
