Chapter 4

• Alice Lewis
• It was a stupid idea, and I knew it from the moment Clara suggested it. Go to a bar to forget everything, as if alcohol could somehow erase the mess that was my life.
• And yet, there I was, perched on a worn leather stool. The music was too loud, the lights were aggressive, and everyone seemed perfectly comfortable in their own little worlds, while I was just trying to blend into the background.
• The dress she lent me was tight, short, and definitely outside my comfort zone. I kept tugging at the hem, as if that would magically cover more than it actually did.
• Clara, as always, was at the center of attention, dancing without a care in the world, while I stayed behind, pretending to look busy with my drink.
• "Relax, Alice," she said before abandoning me at the bar. "Tonight’s your night to forget about your problems... Just go for it."
• Easy for her to say. Clara wasn’t engaged to a stranger she’d never met, about to be forced into living a lie. The thought suffocated me. Every time I thought about the wedding, my stomach twisted into knots. Maybe that’s why I agreed to come. Not to “go for it,” as Clara put it, but to distract myself. To pretend, even if only for a few hours, that I was just a normal girl.
• I sighed, staring at my glass, still debating how I was going to get through the night.
• Lost in thought, I didn’t notice someone bumping into me, the jolt almost knocking my drink over.
• “Oh, sorry!” I muttered, turning to see who it was.
• When my eyes met his, my heart skipped a beat. He was tall, with a commanding presence and an expression that bordered on indifference. But there was something in his eyes—a mix of curiosity and danger—that sent a shiver down my spine.
• “You should watch where you’re going,” he said in a low, controlled tone. He didn’t sound angry, but he wasn’t exactly friendly either.
• “I... it was an accident,” I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.
• He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “An accident. Of course.”
• My face burned, and the shame kept me from saying anything else. He didn’t seem interested in apologizing either, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. There was something about him that held my attention, something I couldn’t quite explain.
• “Are you alone?” he asked, leaning slightly closer to me.
• “No,” I lied instinctively, gesturing toward Clara, who was still on the dance floor.
• He followed my gaze and let out a small chuckle. “Got it. She dragged you here.”
• “Is it that obvious?” I asked without thinking, and he laughed softly.
• “You don’t look like someone who comes to places like this,” he replied, taking a slow sip of the whiskey in his hand. His gaze swept over me, analyzing. “It’s written all over you—you don’t belong here.”
• I was speechless for a moment, feeling my face heat up as his eyes lingered on my legs, almost completely bare.
• I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a critique, but the intensity in his gaze made me almost panic.
• He raised his hand toward the bartender, and two glasses appeared on the table immediately.
• “Mind having a drink with me?” he asked, already sliding into the seat beside me. I barely had time to respond.
• As the minutes passed, we exchanged short, hesitant words. He was mysterious, almost cold, but there was an undeniable charisma in the way he spoke—a confidence that felt unshakable.
• Meanwhile, the drinks kept piling up. Clara had been right about one thing: alcohol made the world seem lighter, even if just for a little while. But it also made my head spin, and before I knew it, I was dizzy enough to grip the counter for balance.
• “Are you okay?” he asked, his expression betraying a faint trace of concern.
• “I’m fine,” I lied, though the dizziness said otherwise.
• He frowned, assessing my condition, and then sighed. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
• “Where to?” I asked, hesitating.
• “Someplace quieter,” he replied, as if it were obvious.
• I hesitated for a moment, but the idea of leaving that stifling environment was too tempting. He offered me his hand, and I took it, letting him guide me to a more secluded area of the club, away from the crowd.
• We arrived at a narrow hallway, almost empty, with softer lights and less noise. I leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath as I tried to clear my mind.
• “Better?” he asked, crossing his arms as he watched me intently, his eyes still trailing over my body in silence.
• “Yes,” I replied, though my voice didn’t sound very convincing. “Do you always look at people like that?” I asked, my voice low and almost nervous.
• “No,” he answered, stepping a little closer. “Only the ones who interest me.”
• “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t wear clothes so vulgar…” he said, and I didn’t know how to respond. The silence between us stretched for a few seconds, but even then, he kept watching me with those intense eyes that felt more hungry than curious.
• I knew I should feel uncomfortable, but strangely, I didn’t.
• There was something about him that made me want to let my guard down, even though I knew it was dangerous.
• “Should I?…” I thought, looking at him in confusion. I didn’t want to sleep with just anyone I met to avoid marrying as a virgin, but he seemed… different. Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking.
• “What really brought you here?” he asked suddenly, stepping closer.
• “My friend dragged me,” I answered with the same excuse as before, but he shook his head.
• “That part I know, but what about the rest of the story?”
• I looked at him, surprised by the confidence in his voice. For a moment, I considered telling him everything—about the forced marriage, about how trapped I felt. But the words got stuck in my throat. He didn’t need to know. It wasn’t his business.
• “I just… didn’t want to stay home,” I said finally, looking away.
• He didn’t respond, but leaned in close enough for me to feel his warmth. My heart raced, and I realized it wasn’t just because of the alcohol.
• “You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, a teasing smile forming on his lips.
• I felt my face burn again, but before I could overthink it, I did something I never thought I would.
• “Screw it,” I thought, and kissed him.
• It was hesitant at first, almost as if he was testing the waters. But when he responded, pulling me by the waist and deepening the kiss, all my thoughts vanished.
• For a moment, the shyness that had always accompanied me gave way to something more intense, more impulsive. I knew it was wrong. I didn’t even know his name. But at the same time, I’d never felt so free.
• He pulled away for a second, his warm breath brushing against my skin. “Are you sure about this?”
• I looked into his eyes, the dizziness now blending with an unexpected courage. I knew I shouldn’t. But I also knew that if I didn’t do this now, I’d never have another chance.
• This would be my last day as Alice Lewis, as myself, so why not do something I wanted, even if just once in my life?
• “Yes,” I whispered, and he didn’t need anything else.