Handcuffs And Kisses (Series #1)

Chapter 23

Lilian Carson POV

The heavy bass of the music pounded against my ears as we stepped into the room, a cacophony of flashing lights and shadows casting eerie shapes across the space. The stage at the far end glowed under spotlights, where scantily clad women writhed and spun around poles. Some were already bare, moving with hypnotic ease, while others teased the crowd with slow reveals. I froze, my breath catching as realization struck.

This wasn't a party-it was a strip club.

A pungent mix of sweat, alcohol, and something darker filled the air. Masquerade masks hid the identities of most of the patrons, but the dancers bared everything without hesitation. Wads of cash littered the stage, and the low hum of voices was punctuated by lewd laughter and jeers.

"This isn't a party," I whispered to Alexander, clutching his arm tightly. "It's... disgusting."

His masked face tilted toward me, the dim light obscuring his expression. "It's more than meets the eye," he said, his voice low and cryptic. "Do as I say, Lilian, and be careful."

The unease coiled tighter in my stomach. My grip on his arm instinctively tightened as I watched people grind against each other, the obscene sights and sounds clawing at my senses. Alexander was my only tether to sanity in this chaos. I followed him, praying he wouldn't leave me here.

Suddenly, he stopped. His hand reached for his belt, extracting a small glass vial from a hidden compartment. He held it up between us, the dim light catching on its surface.

"See the man in the red shirt?" Alexander asked, his voice as sharp as a blade. I followed his gaze to a figure seated at the far end of the room. The man wasn't wearing a mask, and the scar etched across his face made him look even more menacing.

Surrounding him were two large men, unmistakably bodyguards, their eyes scanning the crowd with predatory sharpness.

"Yes," I whispered, my throat dry.

Alexander pressed the vial into my hand. "You're going to talk to him. Distract him. And when the moment is right, put this in his drink."

"What is this?" I asked, my hands trembling. The glass felt heavy in my palm, like it carried the weight of my fate.

"It's nothing lethal," he replied curtly. "Just enough to incapacitate him."

"No," I said firmly, shaking my head. "Why don't you do it?"

His eyes, even behind the mask, bore into mine. He leaned closer, his breath brushing against my ear. "Because he's expecting a woman. If I approach him, it'll end in blood before I can say a word."

"I... I can't," I stammered, panic rising in my chest. "I've never done anything like this before."

Alexander's tone turned ice-cold. "If you don't, one of us will die tonight. Choose."

A shiver raced down my spine. My lips parted to protest, but no words came. He didn't wait for a response. Instead, he melted into the crowd, leaving me alone, clutching the vial like a lifeline.

The room seemed to close in on me. The stares of masked strangers burned through me, their laughter echoing in my ears. The air grew thicker, suffocating. I couldn't breathe.

But Alexander's words repeated in my mind like a sinister mantra: *One of us will die.*

I tipped my head back, exhaling shakily. I didn't want to die-not here, not like this. My hands trembled as I grabbed a glass of champagne from the counter, chugging it down in one go. The alcohol burned, but it dulled the edges of my fear.

I straightened my dress, forcing my trembling hands to steady. *You have to do this,* I told myself.

With the vial hidden in my palm, I approached the man in red.

"Hello, handsome," I said, forcing a smile. My voice sounded foreign to me, too soft, too inviting.

The man's dark eyes flicked up to meet mine, his lips curling into a sly grin. His scar caught the light, making him appear even more dangerous.

"Well, aren't you a rare sight," he said, his voice dripping with seduction.

I suppressed the urge to recoil. "What's your name?" I asked, feigning interest.

"Eustace," he said, stepping closer. Too close.

I forced a laugh, stepping back. "Careful. You might scare me off."

He smirked. "You're not as shy as you pretend, are you?"

I noticed him dismiss his bodyguards with a wave of his hand. They exchanged glances but obeyed, retreating to the shadows. He had cleared the path for something much worse.

My heart pounded as I struggled to maintain the facade. I glanced at his glass, searching for the opportunity.

"Why don't we share a drink first?" I suggested, lifting a fresh glass of champagne from a nearby tray.

Eustace's grin widened. "If you insist."

As I leaned forward to pour, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. I froze, the vial slipping from my grasp and falling to the floor with a faint clink.

"What's this?" he asked, his tone darkening. His fingers dug into my skin as he pulled me closer.

Panic surged. "Nothing! Just... perfume," I lied, my voice shaking.

Eustace's grip tightened, his other hand snaking around my waist. "Let's see how sweet it smells."

Before I could react, he dragged me toward the back of the room, his strength overwhelming. The crowd blurred around me, their laughter and cheers becoming a haunting soundtrack to my terror.

The backroom was dark, the music muffled. Eustace shoved me against the cold wall, his grip relentless.

"It's going to hurt less if you stop resisting," he sneered, his lips brushing against mine.

I lashed out, biting his finger as hard as I could. He roared in pain, shoving me to the ground. My knee struck the floor, sending a sharp jolt of pain up my leg.

Eustace loomed over me, his hand wrapping around my throat. The room began to spin, my lungs burning for air. This was it. I was going to die.

But suddenly, the pressure disappeared. Gasping for air, I saw chains whip around Eustace's neck, pulling him back with brutal force.

Alexander stepped out of the shadows, his expression terrifyingly calm. "Taking advantage of a woman?" he asked mockingly. "How pathetic."

Eustace struggled, his face turning purple, but Alexander didn't relent. The chains tightened, cutting off his cries.

"You were supposed to incapacitate him, not leave me to clean up your mess," he growled.

Eustace struggled harder as he tried to speak but couldn't.

"You should have used the vial, Lilian," he hissed. "Now it's going to get a lot more dangerous. Eustace wasn't supposed to die."

Alexander's voice was razor-sharp, his movements deliberate. "But you've left me no choice."

"Turn away, Lilian," Alexander ordered.

I did as he said, tears streaming down my face. Eustace's strangled screams echoed, followed by a sickening crunch.

Then silence.

Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into a warm, steady embrace.

"You're safe now," Alexander murmured, his voice soft. "But it's going to be harder to get out of here alive."

I buried my face in his chest, sobbing as the adrenaline finally left my body. Whatever Alexander was, in that moment, he was my savior.

But as I glanced back at Eustace's lifeless body, I knew this nightmare was far from over.