Chapter thirty eight
Alora’s POV
The ride to the party was thick with silence. Only Macko tried to break it with awkward small talk while Nico drove like a man with a grudge against joy. I didn’t mind; I never liked the guy. Rafe had insisted he tag along, and arguing with him wasn’t an option unless I wanted to skip the party altogether. Macko wouldn’t have it.
Rafe’s words looped in my mind like a mantra.Don’t drink. Don’t disappear. And yet, something about the way he’d said it made me want to do both.
I craved recklessly tonight and I knew he was going to be pissed.
Macko’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts. “We’re here,” he said as the car rolled to a stop.
The bass hit first, vibrating through the car doors before we even stepped out.
The place was alive, lights flashing, laughter spilling into the driveway, students crowding every inch. Macko had warned me his sister was in college, but I hadn’t expected this level of chaos.
The house was full, a blur of lights, laughter, and too many bodies pressed into too little space.
“Welcome to the jungle,” Macko said with a grin, and yeah, it fit.
Everyone here looked weightless, laughing, shouting, spinning without a care in the world. I wanted that, just once. To breathe without fear of defying Rafe.
“You made it just in time for the cake!” A woman’s voice rang out above the noise. A slender, smiling lady walked up, her resemblance to Macko instantly obvious.
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Macko said, hugging her warmly.
She pulled back and turned toward me. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”
“Mother, this is Alora, my best friend,” Macko said proudly.
Best friend. The words hit harder than they should have, melting a part of me I hadn’t realized had frozen over. I'd never had someone to call my best friend and Macko's words made me feel special
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Alora,” Lisa said, pulling me into a hug that smelled like vanilla and home.
“These are my sisters, Joan and Tina,” Macko added.
“Hi, I’m the birthday girl,” Joan said, grinning like she owned the world. “The one and only beautiful queen.”
I laughed. “Happy birthday, Joan. Thanks for having me.”
“Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she winked.
Before I could answer, a deep male voice joined in. “Did I miss the cake?”
Lisa rolled her eyes affectionately. “Of course not, my dear.”
The man turned to me with a kind smile. “You must be Macko’s famous friend I’ve heard so much about.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Castio.”
“Please, call me Mark.”
For a moment, everything felt perfectly warm and effortless, almost like I belonged. Almost. I watched them tease each other as they laughed, this was what family felt like something I had been deprived of as long as I could recall.
Then the drinks started flowing.
Macko got pulled away by some friends, and I stayed near the dance floor, sipping on soda until someone offered me a drink “just to loosen up.” I hesitated, Rafe’s warning echoing in my skull. Don’t drink. Don’t disappear. But I was done living like a porcelain doll wrapped in rules, that wasn't me.
So I took it.
One drink turned into two. The room softened, the music pulsed deeper, and I laughed more than I should have. For once, I felt unchained, like the girl I used to be before rules, before Rafe, before fear. I swayed my hips to the music, letting myself go.
Then someone’s hand brushed my waist and lingered.
I froze.
“Hey, relax,” a tall, muscular guy murmured, leaning too close. His breath reeked of beer. “You’re too pretty to be alone.”
I tried to step back, but he followed. “Come on, don’t play shy.”
“Get your fucking hands off me!” I snapped, shoving at his chest as panic clawed its way up my throat.
He forced me back against the wall, fingers fumbling at my dress, his breath hot and sour on my face.
I struggled against his grip, trying to wiggle my way out, and kicked his groin, but not hard enough. He grabbed me forcefully from behind, his nails digging into my shoulders. My tears flowed uncontrollably as the pain hit.
" You bitch, I'll teach you not to mess with me,"he thundered slapping me across the face while I stumbled back helplessly.
“Macko!” I called, but my voice barely carried over the music. I was terrified of what might happen next, wishing Rafe had been there with me.
Out of nowhere, a rough hand yanked him off me—Nico. His face was stone, eyes like frostbite.
“She’s not interested,” he said flatly.
The guy muttered something, but Nico’s glare shut him up. Then he turned to me. “You shouldn’t even be here,” he snapped. “What, you trying to get the boss to kill us all so you can laugh about it later?”
His tone made my skin crawl. I couldn’t understand what his problem was; the guy had clearly tried to harass me, but Nico made it seem like I was the one causing trouble. Such a pain in my ass.
I brushed past him, heart hammering. Suddenly, the night didn’t feel so sweet anymore.
By the time Macko found me again, the fun had drained out of the evening. I’d had a few shots of tequila, and my vision was hazy. He offered to take me home, but Nico insisted on driving.
The silence in the car felt like a punishment, heavy and sharp, full of unspoken words none of us dared to say.
When we finally pulled up to the mansion, my stomach twisted; I felt like I was going to throw up. The place looked darker than usual, lights dimmed, the kind of silence that promised trouble.
Macko helped me out, his hand steady on my arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied, even as the world tilted a little.
We stepped into the foyer.
And then his voice, sharp, l
ethal, and full of fire, cut through the silence like a blade.
“What the hell is going on here?”