Chapter 14: Watch Where You’re Going!

Hours Later— Back Inside the Dance Room.

Carlos stirred awake, his head slightly throbbing from the faint remnants of the alcohol in his system. His body sank into the luxurious embrace of the oversized, velvet couch, but his mind quickly began to clear. He rubbed his temple lightly before glancing around. The dancers who had been gyrating earlier, their energy electrifying the room, were nowhere to be seen. The floor, once littered with the crisp cash he’d tossed in the air, was now spotless— like the moment had evaporated entirely.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse as he instinctively glanced at his wrist. His custom Rolex glinted under the dim ambient lights, the unique design screaming of its exclusivity— just for him, no other model like it in the world. The hour hand had crept far past where he thought it should be. He’d been out for hours. A sigh left his lips, frustration and worry mingling as he realized Megan hadn’t returned.

He stood, his movements deliberate as he adjusted his blazer and smoothed his shirt. Find Megan. The thought was immediate, unwavering. He made his way out of the private room, the door creaking slightly as he stepped into the corridor bathed in a subdued golden glow. The muffled bass of music resonated through the walls, a pulse that echoed through the building.

As he rounded a corner, the sound of approaching heels on polished marble caught his attention. Megan appeared in the distance, her figure unmistakable. Her sleek black dress hugged her curves as she walked with an air of confidence, but there was something different about her— something in her demeanor.

When they finally met, Carlos reached out instinctively, his hand wrapping around her waist. The touch was firm yet gentle, as if to remind her of his presence. He pulled her closer, their bodies brushing briefly, and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his tone low but probing as he searched her eyes.

Megan hesitated, her gaze drifting to the side. “I went to the bar,” she replied, her voice steady but lacking its usual vibrancy. “Needed to clear my head.”

Carlos tilted his head slightly, his brows knitting together. “About earlier…” He paused, his fingers grazing her hip lightly. “I’m sorry for not—” he hesitated, lowering his voice further, “—satisfying to your sexual needs when you asked.”

Megan let out a short laugh, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s fine,” she said, her hand briefly brushing against his arm. “It happens.”

He frowned slightly, unconvinced. “I’ll make it up to you when we’re back at the hotel,” he offered, his voice dipping into a seductive promise. “The way you like it.”

But Megan shook her head, her hand slipping from his arm. “There’s no need, Carlos. I’m tired already.”

The words hit him like a subtle but deliberate jab. Megan had never turned him down before— not when he’d offered himself like this. She always wanted him, craved him even. And now she didn’t? His lips pressed into a thin line, but he let it slide. She had been the one to storm off earlier; maybe she was still upset.

“So, where were you headed?” Megan asked, breaking the momentary silence. Her tone was light, but her eyes flickered with something unreadable.

Carlos exhaled. “To find you,” he said simply, his voice firm, as if the thought had never wavered.

Megan nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Then let’s head back.” She gestured slightly toward the direction of the dance room. 

Carlos studied her for a moment, something in her demeanor nagging at him. “Go on ahead,” he said finally. “I’ll catch up. I just need a minute… some fresh air.”

Megan tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Don’t take too long,” she said softly before turning on her heel and walking away, her heels clicking against the polished floor.

Carlos then glanced over his shoulder, watching her silhouette as she disappeared down the hallway. Something about this night felt…off.

Deciding not to overthink, he veered toward the balcony. The crisp night air hit him as soon as he stepped outside, the city of Paris sprawled out before him in all its illuminated glory. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the distance, a beacon against the night sky. Leaning against the ledge, Carlos inhaled deeply, his fingers gripping the cool metal railing.

The moments passed in a serene haze until he decided it was time to return. Pushing off the ledge, he turned and walked back toward the balcony door. As he opened it, a sudden collision jarred him. A woman— blonde, mid-20s, and dressed in a dangerously revealing outfit— stumbled backward, her phone slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, crouching down immediately to grab the device. Her voice was sharp, almost accusing. “Watch where you’re going!”