Two hours later, I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, barely recognizing myself.
The black dress Jen had chosen hugged my curves in ways I wasn't used to. My dark hair fell in soft waves over my shoulders. I'd even put on makeup—something I rarely bothered with between college classes and hospital visits.
"You look hot," Jen declared from the doorway, grinning with satisfaction. "Seriously, Aria. You're going to have guys lining up."
I forced a smile. "Thanks for the dress."
"Anytime." She studied me for a moment, her expression softening. "You okay? You seem... I don't know. Tense?"
Tense. That was one word for it.
Terrified. Desperate. Guilt-ridden. Those worked too.
"I'm fine," I lied. "Just nervous."
"Don't be. You're gorgeous, and any guy would be lucky to—" She stopped herself, remembering. "Well. You know what I mean."
Right. Any guy would be lucky to sleep with me for one night and never see me again.
God, what was I doing?
But then I thought of Asher's face, his desperate plea, and I forced steel into my spine.
This wasn't about me. This was about giving my dying brother his last wish.
I could handle one night with a stranger if it meant Asher got to meet my baby before he died.
Velvet Noir was exactly the kind of place I'd never have entered on my own—all gleaming surfaces, beautiful people, and prices that would make my bank account weep.
But I'd used my monthly "allowance" from my mysterious husband to book a room here for tonight. Might as well use his money to solve the problem he'd created by never actually being my husband.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
I pushed through the doors, and the music hit me like a physical force. Bass thrummed through my chest. Lights strobed across the dance floor. Everyone looked like they belonged in a magazine spread.
I felt like an imposter.
Just find someone, I told myself. Someone tall, handsome, healthy. Good genes for the baby. That's all this is.
Clinical. Practical. Nothing emotional about it.
Except my hands were shaking and my heart was racing and I wanted to run back home and hide under my covers and pretend tonight wasn't happening.
I forced myself to scan the crowd, looking for... what? How did you pick a stranger to father your child?
And then I saw him.
Everything else—the music, the crowd, the lights, my fear—all of it just... disappeared.
He sat in the VIP section, partially in shadow, but I could see him perfectly. Like my eyes had found him through sheer will, through some instinct I didn't understand.
Tall. Dark-haired. Impossibly handsome even from a distance.
And his eyes.
God, his eyes.
Even across the crowded club, I could see they were blue—vivid, electric, almost glowing in the dim light.
He was staring directly at me.