The valet reached out for the keys as I stepped out of the car.
I handed them over without a word, barely sparing the guy a glance as he nodded and slipped into the driver’s seat. Liam and Caron were already walking ahead, the pulse of club music growing louder with every step we took toward the entrance of LeVert.
We didn’t wait in lines. We didn’t need to.
The line stretched around the block, filled with people trying to look like they belonged. Glitter. Skin. Loud laughs that reeked of insecurity. We bypassed all of it. I pulled the black VIP pass from my jacket. The rope was already parting, the bouncer nodding in quiet recognition.
Then I heard it.
A voice—tiny, but loud, sharp, and unmistakably pissed.
"Hey, you guys can’t just cut in front of us like that!" the girl called out, her tone slicing clean through the chatter. "We’ve been standing here for thirty minutes!"
I turned, brows raised, mildly curious.
She stood near the front of the line, small but fierce, soft brown eyes burning with irritation, arms crossed tightly over her chest like she was trying to hold in her anger. Her friend looked like she wanted to crawl into the pavent, Her friend tugged at her arm, clearly trying to keep her from escalating.
Didn’t work.
She t my eyes, rebellious and unbothered.
I let a smirk crawl onto my lips. "Relax, sweetheart. We don’t wait in lines. We’re VIP."
Her glare sharpened. "Well, you’re not acting like VIPs. You’re acting like entitled jerks who think they’re better than everyone else."
Ouch.
I tilted my head, amused. "Aw, don’t be jealous. Guess you can’t afford the VIP experience."
That one hit. Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowing.
"I can afford it just fine," she snapped.
I took a step closer, enjoying the fire. "Prove it. Show your VIP pass."
She didn’t flinch. Her fists balled at her sides, but her voice was ice. "I don’t need to prove anything to you. And even if I did, I wouldn’t show you a damn thing. You’d probably try to steal it."
I huffed a short laugh, impressed despite myself.
"You should learn to respect your elders, sweetheart."
That word. It hit her like a slap.
Her voice ca out low, controlled. "Respect is earned. Not handed out like candy to cocky line-cutters."
I raised a brow, her bite only feeding the grin pulling at my mouth. "So you think you’re tough, huh?"
She didn’t back down. "Tough enough to deal with jerks like you."
Liam let out a laugh behind , but I kept my eyes on her. Small. Angry. Mouth like a blade.
"You’ve got a mouth on you," I said, mock admiration in my tone. "All bark, no bite."
She opened her mouth again, probably with sothing sharp and scathing. But I turned before she could fire it off, like she wasn’t worth my ti, and strolled up to the bouncer with the pass in hand.
I handed the pass to the bouncer, feeling her glare still burning at my back like the heat of a match just before it ignites.
He scanned it, already unhooking the rope.
Then, before stepping through, I glanced over my shoulder.
She was still watching , arms crossed, lips tight. Most people would’ve looked away by now. Backed down. But not her.
I tilted my head at the bouncer. "Let them in too," I said, nodding toward the fiery girl and her friend.
He hesitated. "They’re not—"
"They’re with ," I cut in, tone final.
The bouncer didn’t argue. He stepped aside and gestured for them to co through.
She blinked, clearly caught off guard. Her friend nudged her, but she stayed frozen for a second, trying to decide if this was a trap or a favor.
It wasn’t either.
I didn’t wait to see what she chose. I just walked inside, the bass swallowing whole.
But I couldn’t help the grin tugging at my lips.
That mouth of hers?
I wanted to hear more of it.
The deal was already running five minutes late.
I leaned against the railing of the VIP lounge, holding a drink I hadn’t touched, eyes scanning the crowd below. The music throbbed through the walls and floor — too loud, too chaotic. Not my scene. But my father insisted I handle this in person. Face-to-face deals built trust, he said.
I was about to text the guy again when movent near the center of the dance floor caught my eye.
Her.
The girl from the line earlier.
She moved differently from the others — sharper, more aware. She wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were wary, scanning the room like she was always preparing for sothing to go wrong while she still dance with her friend─ having fun. Smart.
Then, I saw him.
A man pushed through the bodies, eyes locked on her. Intentional. He didn’t hesitate — just reached for her hand and yanked her toward him.
She stumbled.
My grip on the railing tightened.
He pressed in, invading her space like he owned it. Entitled. Like the type who thought persistence was charm.
Her voice cut through the beat. "Hey! Let go of !"
He didn’t.
Then her friend — the one with a smooth pony tail — stepped in and drove her knee into his leg. Clean. Direct.
He staggered.
She stumbled too, thrown off by the sudden release, body tilting dangerously.
I didn’t think.
I was already moving before I realized it, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. By the ti she tipped back, I was there.
My arm wrapped around her waist, catching her before she could fall.
Soft. Warm. Breathless.
She looked up at , wide-eyed — and recognition flashed between us.
I didn’t say a word. Just steadied her, then let go once I knew she was fine.
Then I turned.
Stepped in front of her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Hey, man. Back off," I said, calm but cold. My voice carried, even over the music.
The guy blinked, thrown.
"What? I was just—"
"She doesn’t want you." I didn’t raise my voice, but every word hit like a brick. "Take the hint. Walk away."
He hesitated.
Glanced at the girl, then at . My stance didn’t change, but the look in my eyes must’ve landed harder than my words.
He backed off.
No argunt. No fight. Just turned and vanished into the crowd like a coward.
I didn’t look back at her right away. I just stood there, jaw tight, chest oddly tense.
I didn’t usually get involved in shit like that.
What on earth am I doing?
I didn’t wait for her to say anything. Didn’t trust myself to look back again.
I turned and walked off, back through the crowd, past the bodies and sweat and music that was suddenly ten tis more irritating than before.
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