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.