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Night Club
The air in The Void—a trendy, low-lit nightclub in the city's industrial district—was thick with bass, cheap perfume, and expensive regret. This wasn't a place for casual fun; it was a stage for deals and disasters.
Raina sat rigid in a velvet corner booth, looking like a shattered shard of ice. She was wearing a midnight-blue gown, dangerously slit up one thigh, the kind of dress that screamed confidence but felt like a flimsy shield. The music vibrated through her bones, yet she felt utterly isolated.
Her grip tightened on the stem of her wine glass, knuckles white against the delicate crystal. "Why are my own friends standing against me?" she breathed, the whisper lost instantly to the throbbing beat. It was a betrayal deeper than she cared to admit.
With a sharp movement, she brought the glass to her lips and swallowed the chilled, expensive wine in one angry gulp. The liquid didn't soothe her; it only fueled the fire.
She glanced at her phone. Nothing.
"Wait, Ronnie. Why hasn't that fool called me yet?"
She jabbed his contact icon. No answer. The screen's silence was a personal insult.
"Idiot! Not answering my call... how dare he," she muttered, snatching up her small, beaded sling bag. The night was a bust. Time to leave and maybe torch something on the way out.
She pushed out of the booth and took three decisive steps toward the exit. That's when the world tilted.
A powerful shadow filled her space, moving with brutal speed. Before she could react, her back hit a cold stone pillar, and a hand—strong and unforgiving—snapped around her neck, pinning her with crushing force.
Raina didn't struggle. Instead, a slow, dark chuckle escaped her lips. "I expected you, Jake."
Jake stared down at her, his face a mask of cold, hard anger. In the swirling neon lights, his usually easygoing eyes were like chips of glacial ice. He was dressed simply in a dark t-shirt and jeans, a stark contrast to her glamour, yet he commanded the space.
"Why did you do that, Raina?" he asked, his voice low, cold, and stripped of all familiarity.
She tilted her head, maintaining her mocking smile. "Do what?"
Jake's lips curled into a mirthless smirk. "Don't act with me. I know you better than anyone else."
Raina's smile vanished, replaced by simmering rage. "Yes. Me," she spat. "But I didn't expect you to rescue her." She shoved his arm away from her neck, pushing him back with surprising force.
Jake didn't even flinch. "I haven't interfered between you and Gabriella... yet. But if you try to harm her again," he paused, the threat hanging heavy in the air, "I won't sit back anymore."
Raina laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. "I'm warning you, stay away from us! I won't treat you like a friend anymore." She turned and stalked two steps away.
"Can you?" Jake's voice followed her, laced with mocking certainty.
She froze.
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and, with a casual flick of a vintage gold lighter, illuminated the tip. He took a long, slow drag, the smoke curling around his face. "Don't forget, Raina. I'm the one who stood beside you when you needed me most."
Raina turned slowly, a wicked smirk returning. "I remember. But you seem to forget that I am your friend."
Jake inhaled again, the cigarette still perched between his lips. "Me?" he challenged.
Her eyes darkened, turning sharp and dangerous. "Then who shall I prove it to? Why do you always choose Gabriella over me?" Her voice grew deep with bitterness. "Not once... when I played the video evidence that she is Andria, what did you do? You paused the video. The second time, you rescued her from that pervert in the pub. The third time, you rescued her from the chandelier..."
Jake took the cigarette from his mouth, speechless. "But—"
"Because you've fallen for her," Raina cut him off, her tone colder than ice. "Don't you remember that she is our enemy?" She closed the distance between them, her curved smile disappearing as she leaned in close.
She whispered the last words right into his ear. "I'm sure she won't fall for you, Jake. Because you are a fool. Don't be blind by love... like I was."
She straightened up and walked away, her slit gown sweeping dramatically behind her.
Jake threw the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with his heel. Raina's words had struck a nerve, leaving him visibly agitated.
Centre City
Meanwhile, miles away in the bustling heart of Centre City, Gabriella and Dona walked side-by-side through the night crowd. The city's lights blurred into a wash of restless color, and the air was crisp, carrying the scent of street food and exhaust.
Dona, in her comfortable jeans and jacket, looked normal, focused. Gabriella, wearing a simple, dark top, was lost in a fog of concentration. The expression on her face was distant, troubled, her dark hair half-hiding her eyes.
"So, what do we do next?" Dona asked, adjusting her backpack. "Why did Kevin write that? He wants to protect her... I think he's madly in love with her. That's why." Dona stopped and turned to her friend. "Gabriella, are you even listening?"
Gabriella nodded vaguely. "I'm going to my house. Bye."
"Gabby!" Dona called after her, but Gabriella was already moving, dissolving quickly into the flood of pedestrians.
Dona sighed, reaching into her bag to pull out a water bottle. Her fingers brushed against something else—a vibrating phone.
She snatched it up. "Oh no, it's Gabriella's phone!" She answered the call quickly.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Gabby... wait. Who is this?" a male voice asked, sounding puzzled.
"Sorry, I'm her friend. She forgot her phone. You're Han, right?" Dona replied.
"Yes. Where is she now?"
"We're in the center of the city, near the bus stop. She left a few minutes ago."
"Okay. I'm also nearby. Okay, bye." He hung up abruptly.
Dona quickly searched the surging crowd, worrying about her friend.
Gabriella walked alone along the footpath, bordering the massive highway. Her thoughts were a whirlwind. Why would he want to protect her? How could he love her? Am I wrong about everything? If Raina is the target of my revenge, how can I hurt a person Kevin loved this much?
She reached the quarter line of the crosswalk, still deep in thought. The signal had just turned from green to RED.
Vehicles rushed across the intersection in a torrent of speed and metal. Still distracted, Gabriella stepped forward.
A car, a black streak against the night, hurtled toward the crosswalk, its headlights flashing blindingly high beams.
Gabriella turned, saw the light, and froze. She didn't know what to do; she just stared, mesmerized by the impending impact.
Suddenly, a hand—firm and powerful—grabbed her wrist. She was spun violently out of the road and tucked safely into the shadow of a bus shelter.
She was safe, pulled tight against a stranger's chest.
"Are you okay?" a furious voice yelled, followed by a demanding shout. "What are you doing in the middle of the road?!"
The person released her and took a step back. Gabriella stumbled, returning from shock, and slowly raised her head.
She stared at the face of her rescuer: Han, her cousin brother.
Her eyes widened as the realization of her potential mistake—and the depth of her distraction—hit her all at once. She whispered the words, not to him, but to the spinning world.
"I was wrong all the time. From the beginning…"
Han, his face still furious from the near-miss, looked utterly confused by her words.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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