𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦

NINE

"I tried to scream but lilies clouded my mind."

9

"I don't get it Amina, and I'm not pressuring you into telling me anything but I'm fucking here, you can't get rid of me." Stassie stared at me through the mirror as I continued to get ready.

I haven't heard from Reign all day, I noticed he's not always around which I'm not arguing with, the less I feel like crying the better. Maybe tonight is what I need to release some tension.

It was time to go when we noticed the time, we went downstairs. In the foyer Amaya sat in a cocktail dress her cleavage nicely showcased.

"Amaya, are you heading out?" I quietly asked as we approached her.

"If it's alright I'd love to join you. Reign and Roscoe won't be back until tomorrow. I haven't been with friends in years, I want to do it with my new found girls." She lived in a state of being constantly uneasy, being nervous has claimed her.

"Where did they go?"

"London." Why didn't he tell me?

That's all she had to say before we took each other's hands and en route to the club, I made sure to grip onto Amaya's hand tightly.

⸻

It was just shy of 1 a.m. when we arrived, the car gliding into the back alley behind the building. The headlights cut across two bouncers stationed outside the rear entrance. My stomach knotted with a flicker of unease as our driver killed the engine. Something about the backdoor arrival felt... off.

As soon as we stepped out of the car, a wave of silence seemed to ripple around us. One of the bouncers—stocky, with a buzzcut and sharp eyes—stepped to the side, murmuring into a phone. The other just watched us, unreadable.

From outside, the throb of music vibrated through the ground, pulsing like a second heartbeat. Stassie glanced at me, brow furrowed. "What's this about?" she whispered under her breath.

We waited in an odd silence until the bouncer ended his call and finally waved us through. They led us inside and up a dim staircase to a private lounge overlooking the main floor. The club was live—bodies moving in sync, lights flickering, and laughter echoing from every direction. Alcohol flowed freely, caught in the clutches of raised glasses.

Stassie dropped into a plush chair, already swaying to the music in her seat. I leaned in close, brushing her hair back so I could speak directly into her ear.

"Stassie, I think we should go."

She turned to me, eyes alert now. "Okay... Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know. Something just—"

Before I could finish, a group of men approached, cutting through the crowd like they owned the place. They were all smiles, drinks in hand, loud and confident. Without invitation, they sat around us, offering easy conversation and pouring drinks like old friends.

I look to Amaya, she had the same uneasy expression as me.

One of them settled beside me. He wore a tailored grey suit, the top buttons of his crisp white shirt undone, revealing just enough collarbone to suggest he knew exactly what he was doing. He was good-looking, no doubt—but there was something calculated in his charm.

"So," he said, his accent unmistakably British and smooth like velvet. "What are you ladies celebrating?"

I gave a light shrug, smiling despite myself. "Life."

His grin widened, warm and deliberate. He reached for two shots on the table, handing me one with a confident nod.

"Cheers to life, then. Lucas."