Enchanted By Shadow

Chapter 7

Sasha

I woke up with a pounding headache, my body still draped in the same dress from last night. My brain feels like it's been dragged through a storm, and the night's events are a total blur. I rub my temples, trying to make sense of how I even got home. There's nothing-just fragments of laughter, music, and darkness. What the hell happened? I can't shake the feeling that something important slipped through my fingers, like a memory just out of reach.

I sit up and glance around. My apartment is just as I left it, no signs of chaos or anything out of place. I sigh in relief-at least I didn't bring anyone back. But still, my stomach knots with unease. What did I do last night? The thought lingers like a bad taste in my mouth.

As I get dressed for work, the throbbing in my head worsens, but I push through it, slipping into my work uniform and grabbing my keys. I reach the restaurant, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling crawling up my spine. That's when I spot Liza, leaning against the counter, looking as rough as I feel.

"Girl, it was a terrible idea. My head hurts like hell," Liza groans, rubbing her temples. She looks at me with a knowing grin, the type that says she remembers more than I do.

"I told you. That's why it wasn't a great idea to hit the club," I mutter, not wanting to dive into whatever I can't remember.

But Liza being Liza, she dives in headfirst anyway. "Whatever, forget that. Now, tell me... did you fuck that hottie from last night?"

I freeze, feeling my face heat up. Excuse me? What man? My mind goes blank for a second, and all I can manage is, "What man are you talking about?"

"The guy you were grinding on, girl. You looked like you were ready to devour him on the dance floor." Liza winks, her smirk growing wider by the second.

"What the hell? I can't believe I'd do that. You must be joking." But there's something about her words that sends a chill down my spine. Could I have done something like that? No, not me. Not cold-hearted, closed-off Sasha.

Liza rolls her eyes dramatically. "I'm not joking, Sasha. You two were all over each other. And the way he was looking at you? That man looked dangerous, like he wanted to eat you alive."

Her words hit me like a freight train. Dangerous? My heart races as foggy images of the night start to form, flashes of intense eyes watching me, the feeling of strong hands gripping my waist. But the rest is still too hazy. I can't recall a face, just the sensation of being wanted, of someone holding me like they owned me.

"Wait... are you telling me I really can't remember anything from last night?" My voice trembles slightly, and I glance at Liza for some kind of reassurance, but she just smirks.

"Dang, girl. You forgot the whole night? I thought you'd remember at least the part where you were filthy-talking with that man," she says, teasingly, her smirk widening even more as she sees my face flush.

My heart skips a beat. Filthy-talking? I can't even picture myself doing something like that. Sure, I'd had some tequila, but not enough to lose all control, right?

"You're making this up, Liza. I wouldn't... I couldn't," I stammer, but deep down, something tells me she's not lying. The heat in my cheeks only intensifies, the memory of someone's strong hands on my body sending a shiver through me.

"Nah, girl. You were definitely feeling him. You were practically giving him permission with your eyes." Liza's grin turns wicked. "But the weirdest thing? He was watching you like a predator, like he wanted to own you. It wasn't just lust, Sasha. It was something darker. He wasn't just looking to fuck you-he wanted to possess you."

Her words send an electric current through my veins. I blush furiously, brushing it off like it's no big deal, but my heart is racing now, adrenaline pumping. "Okay, enough of that. Let's just get to work. I'll... I'll try to remember whatever it is you're talking about."

But as I move through the restaurant, trying to focus on my tasks, I can't shake the feeling that something big happened last night-something I can't afford to forget. And even worse, the memory of those hands, that possessive grip, haunts me, making me question if I'm really safe.

I just don't know yet how dangerous this game I've been pulled into is. But somehow, I can feel it. He's not done with me.

After serving a few tables, I got the dreaded call. A VIP order. Normally, that wouldn't faze me-it was just part of the job. But today, something was different. As soon as the words left my manager's mouth, my stomach twisted in knots. I tried to brush it off, convincing myself it was just the hangover messing with me, but my heart thumped louder with every step. The closer I got to the VIP room, the heavier my breath became, as if my body knew something my mind hadn't caught up to yet.

The door was slightly ajar, and as I pushed it open, the dim, golden light spilled out like a predator waiting in the shadows. The room had an eerie stillness to it, with the single spotlight illuminating a large, muscular figure seated at the center table. That broad chest, those hands lazily resting on the armrests-everything about him screamed dominance.

My heart lurched. No, it can't be...

But the moment I saw his face, I stopped dead in my tracks. It was him-the man from last night. The one who had his hands all over me, who had spoken my name like he owned it. My breathing hitched as the memories of last night slammed into me all at once-his rough grip on my waist, the way his hands roamed possessively over my body, and the filthy words he whispered in my ear, words that made my pulse race and my knees weak.

I had let him touch me. No, I had wanted him to touch me. The realization hit me hard, sending a wave of shame and something darker-something more dangerous-rolling through me.

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, frozen in place, as the memory of his lips ghosted across my skin. My entire body burned with the memory of him, and suddenly, his deep blue eyes met mine. A slow, sinful smirk spread across his face. He knew I remembered. He could see it in the way I stood there, like a deer caught in headlights.

That same gaze he had given me last night was back-predatory, hungry, and oh-so-possessive. His eyes traced the curves of my body like he was mentally undressing me right there, making me feel exposed despite the layers of my uniform.

My legs shook, but I forced myself to move, my feet dragging me toward his table. Every step felt like walking into a trap, but I couldn't stop myself. His presence pulled me in, like gravity. As I placed the plate in front of him, I could feel his gaze burning into me, as if his eyes alone could sear a brand into my skin, marking me as his.

His scent-a mixture of whiskey, leather, and something distinctly masculine- filled my senses, and my hands trembled slightly as I set the food down. I could feel the heat of his body even though I wasn't touching him, and my skin prickled with the memory of how those same hands had roamed over me last night. His fingers had dug into my hips, pulling me closer, as if he couldn't get enough. He had spoken in a low, rough voice, telling me exactly what he wanted to do to me-how he'd bend me over, how he'd take me right there if he wanted.

"You're shaking," his deep, gravelly voice broke through my thoughts. His tone was low, almost teasing, as if he enjoyed watching me come undone in front of him. I could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him.

I swallowed hard, refusing to look back at him. But it was no use. I could feel him behind me, his gaze burning holes through my clothes, marking me in ways his hands hadn't last night. The intensity of it made my heart race, the heat pooling low in my belly, even though I told myself to stay calm, to keep it together.

Without a word, I turned and fled the room, my steps quick and shaky, trying to escape the pull he had on me. But I couldn't escape the feeling of his eyes on me. He had claimed me with just one look. As the door closed behind me, I leaned against it, heart pounding. I might have escaped for now, but I knew-deep down-l was already his.

And I didn't know if I could ever run far enough.