70

Vivian's POV

"I told you this would be fun!" Leonora’s arms waved above her head, her body moving to the music. We were on the mezzanine level of the club, just as packed as the dance floor below, but staying close to the railing helped keep the nausea at bay.

"I never said it wouldn’t be fun!" I shouted back. "I said it was a bad idea!"

"How could this be a bad idea?" She twirled, sipping on some pink concoction with a cherry bobbing at the bottom. Oh, let me count the ways. I hadn’t seen her order it, but her fake ID must have passed the bartender’s test. I’d have to keep her from getting too drunk, though.

"This has been fun, but we’re still leaving in—" I glanced at the neon clock above the DJ booth. "—twenty minutes."

Leonora rolled her eyes, her teeth glowing under the black lights. "You haven’t even danced yet! Or had a drink!"

"One of us has to drive." Since I was the only one old enough to drink legally, I wasn’t sure how I got stuck with that responsibility. But welcome to my life.

"The hour doesn’t start until you’re having fun!" The DJ dropped a new track, the bass pulsing through the floor. I had to yell over it to hear myself.

"That wasn’t the deal!"

"Well, it is now!" She grabbed my arms, swinging them to the beat. "Stop babysitting me, have fun, and then we can leave!"

I wanted to argue, but Leonora could be just as stubborn as me. She was going to get her way, and I might as well go along with it. A waitress squeezed past with a tray of drinks. I grabbed the closest one.

"Hey! That’s not—" I tossed it back before she could finish, wincing at the burn.

"Oh my God, yes!" Leonora cheered, flashing her ID at the waitress. The Delacroix name must’ve carried some weight around here, because despite her irritation, the waitress didn’t argue as she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

I jabbed a finger at Leonora’s sparkling chest. "The hour starts *now*."

Leonora waved me off. "Yeah, yeah. Now *dance*!" She spun me into the throng of bodies. This time, instead of resisting, I let myself sink into the crowd. I closed my eyes and swayed to the rhythm, letting the pounding bass vibrate through me. After so many days trapped in Dorian’s mansion, uncertain about where I stood or what would happen next, it felt good to let go for a moment—even if just for one song.

When the beat shifted into something slower, I opened my eyes and looked for Leonora near the railing where we’d been standing. But she wasn’t there.

Cue nervous sweats. Cue rapid heartbeat. Cue *what the fuck is happening*.

I shoved through the crowd, my heart pounding, scanning faces. Even in heels, I felt small.

"Leonora!" I cupped my hands around my mouth, but it was like screaming into a void. The music swallowed my voice whole. I was trying to climb onto a chair to get a better view when someone’s hand slid around my waist.

"Hey, baby. Wanna dance?" The guy’s sleeves were rolled up just enough to show off a Rolex.

"No, thanks. I’m looking for my friend."

He leaned closer, his breath hot on my neck. "I’ll be your friend."

I didn’t have time for this. I elbowed him in the ribs and squeezed past.

"Bitch!" he yelled after me.

I ignored him, panic rising. Leonora was out here somewhere, surrounded by guys like that. Our security should’ve been keeping an eye on us, but with so many people around, they’d be just as useless as I was.

"Leonora!" I shouted again. I weaved through the mezzanine and clung to the railing, looking down at the dance floor. The flashing lights made it impossible to focus on any one person. But even if Leonora was down there, she wouldn’t have gone back to the main floor—not when she could slip into any VIP room she wanted.

I headed for the velvet ropes leading to the VIP section at the top of the stairs. The bouncer was a brick wall of a man, with a lion tattoo on his neck. He stuck out an arm to stop me.

"VIP only."

I lifted my chin. "I’m with the Delacroix family."

He glanced around, unimpressed. "I don’t see them."

"They’re waiting for me upstairs," I lied. "He’ll be pissed if I’m late." I didn’t specify *which* “he,” but it didn’t matter. The bouncer shifted the rope aside without another word. Dorian really did run this city. Crazy.

The music was quieter on the third floor, the deep bass thumping in the background. Up here, no one was dancing. Instead, they had their own ways of blowing off steam. I caught glimpses of private rooms with half-dressed dancers and tables scattered with lines of powder. I kept moving, praying Leonora hadn’t gotten herself mixed up in any of that.

The back of the floor opened into a glass-enclosed room. The walls muffled the music even more, leaving just a dull, relentless beat. The room was lined with black leather benches, offering a floor-to-ceiling view of the dance floor two stories below. I stared down at the faceless bodies writhing to the music. Even if Leonora was in the middle of it, I’d never be able to spot her from here.

I was about to head back when I bumped into something—or rather, someone. Large hands gripped my waist, pulling me back. Before I could scream, a deep voice hissed in my ear, “There you are. Finally.”