Sugar sugar baby

[31] The incident

It had been a few weeks since I started my Italian lessons with Lorenzo, and I had gotten pretty comfortable around him. He was a chill guy, and we'd developed a bit of a friendship beyond the formalities of the job. So when he suggested that we hit up a club one evening, I didn't think much of it. A night out sounded like a good way to blow off some steam. I'd been working hard to fit into this new world, and a break sounded perfect.

"You know, Signor Tristan," Lorenzo had said earlier that day with a grin, "you've been making great progress. Why don't we celebrate a little? There's a club I know in the city. The drinks are good, and the company is... very good."

I laughed, shrugging. "Why not? I could use a night out. Just don't let me drink too much, alright?"

Lorenzo smiled, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "I'll make no promises. But I guarantee you'll enjoy it."

That evening, we made our way to the club. It was in the heart of Milan, nestled in the backstreets where the city's nightlife truly came alive. The neon lights flickered overhead, casting a cool blue glow over the cobblestone streets as we stepped out of the car. Music thumped from inside, and I could already hear the crowd buzzing with energy.

Inside, the place was packed. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and perfume, and the music pulsed through the room, making the floor vibrate beneath our feet. There was a bar along one side, and a dance floor in the middle, already crowded with people moving to the heavy bass.

"Come," Lorenzo said, leading me toward the bar. "We'll get drinks first."

I nodded, following him through the sea of people. The energy of the place was infectious—everyone was here to have a good time, and it felt like the weight of the past few months was slipping away, at least for the night. I ordered a drink, something strong and cold, and leaned against the bar, watching the crowd.

Lorenzo clinked his glass against mine. "Salute!" he said, grinning.

"Salute," I echoed, taking a long drink. The alcohol burned going down, but in a good way. It loosened me up, made me feel lighter.

We made our way to the dance floor after a few drinks, the beat of the music pulling us in. Lorenzo was right—the place was filled with hot Italian girls, all of them dressed to kill, their laughter mingling with the music as they danced and drank. It was easy to get lost in the atmosphere, to let the energy of the club take over.

At one point, a group of girls started dancing near us, and one of them—this stunning brunette with dark eyes and a figure that could stop traffic—caught my eye. She smiled at me, moving closer as we danced, her body swaying in time with the music. I smiled back, feeling the buzz of the alcohol mixing with the heat of the room.

I didn't think much of it at first. People danced close in clubs, that was just how it went. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, I could feel her moving closer, her body pressing against mine. She leaned in, her breath hot against my ear as she whispered something in Italian that I didn't quite catch.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

She smiled, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. Then, without warning, she leaned forward, her lips aiming for mine. I saw it coming at the last second, and instinct kicked in. I dodged, pulling back quickly, my heart racing.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said, holding up my hands. "I'm taken."

Her smile faltered for a split second, but then she recovered, laughing it off like it was no big deal. "Mi scusi," she said, backing off slightly.

I nodded, feeling awkward as hell. "No worries. Just... yeah. I've got someone."

She shrugged, smiling again, though there was a hint of disappointment in her eyes. "Capito. It's all good."