68

Vivian's POV

I glanced into the side mirror as Leonora pulled into the parking garage, the tires screeching slightly as she made a sharp turn. “Maybe slow down a bit? I don’t think security is following us in here.” I scanned the empty lane behind us. “I don’t see anyone.”

She hummed, unconcerned. “They have their ways. Like ninjas—super sneaky.”

The moment the car came to a stop, she hopped out without hesitation. There was never room for second thoughts when Leonora was in charge. The second I agreed to this, she stuffed me into a dress, applied my makeup faster than I could react, and dragged me out the door before I even understood what was happening.

Dorian struggled to keep up with her at lunch the other day. How was I supposed to manage as her chaperone in a crowded nightclub? It still baffled me that he thought I could.

I hurried out of the car, nearly stumbling in my heels as I chased after her. “Wait up! These shoes weren’t made for running.”

“They’re not for walking. They’re for looking hot.”

I couldn’t argue with that. The silver strappy heels did look amazing, but they were hardly practical for keeping up with someone half my age.

The closer we got to the club, the heavier the bass thumped through the pavement, vibrating beneath my feet. A massive crowd had gathered outside, buzzing with energy. Even before I’d been holed up in Dorian’s mansion, this wasn’t my scene. It was exactly the kind of event I’d cancel on at the last minute.

“That line is ridiculous,” I said, eyeing the long stretch of people. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“We can skip it.” Leonora smirked, pulling an ID from her bra. “Call me Marissa when we get up there. The guy who made this messed up my name.”

I grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “You said you knew the bouncer! Why do you need a fake ID if you know him?”

“Backup plan, babe. Always need a backup.”

I lowered my voice. “You’re underage. You can’t even drink. We shouldn’t be here.”

Leonora shushed me with a wink at some guy standing close enough to overhear. He smirked back, eyes lingering. Great. Maybe these stilettos would come in handy after all—for fending off creeps.

“How did I let you talk me into this?” I muttered.

“This is a terrible idea, Leonora. There’s no way Dorian is okay with this.” I glanced over my shoulder, searching for any sign of security. Nothing. I could only hope they were blending in.

“Dorian’s fine with it,” she said breezily. “He said I couldn’t go out unless I had a chaperone.” She patted my back. “Hi, chaperone. Plus, he took you on a date the other night.”

“We went to a nice restaurant. That’s not the same as this. And he was with me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross. I don’t need to know what happens in the bedroom.”

It took me a second to catch her meaning before I smacked her shoulder. “That’s not what I meant! And I wouldn’t talk to you about that!”

Leonora laughed, loud and carefree. “Chill out, Loon. It was a joke.”

That nickname caught me off guard. Only Gemma had ever called me that. If I weren’t so consumed by guilt, I might have been touched that Leonora had given me one, too. But the guilt was too heavy to enjoy it.

“This all feels so wrong,” I admitted.

“It’s not wrong. Everyone knows you and Dorian sleep together. You share a room.”

“That’s not the issue.” I pointed a finger at her. “And don’t change the subject.”

She brushed past me, unfazed. “I don’t need to distract you. Come or don’t, it’s up to you. I just thought you’d want to have some fun instead of acting like my brother’s little pet.”

“I’m not his pet!”

“Then stop acting like one.” She crossed her arms, waiting for me to challenge her. I mirrored her stance. We stared each other down for a solid thirty seconds before she grabbed my shoulders and spun me toward the blacked-out exit door.

“Look at yourself.”

“I know what I look like.”

“No, really look.”

I sighed and took in our reflection. Leonora had chosen well—her blue sequined dress hugged my curves perfectly, accentuating everything in just the right way. She’d been right about the color, too. It made my eyes stand out, glowing under the dim garage lights.

“I do look good,” I admitted.

“You look amazing. Too good to waste the night watching some old movie and eating chips.”

“Sabrina is a classic. Just because it’s old—”

“Come on.” She grabbed my hands, pleading. “I don’t want to go in without you.”

I wasn’t fooled. She would go in with or without me, and then I’d be left explaining to Dorian how I let his sister disappear into a nightclub.

But… I did look good. It seemed like a waste to get all dressed up just to leave.

“One hour,” I said, holding up a single finger. “Then we go home and watch Sabrina.”

Leonora squealed. “I have no idea who that is, but let’s go!”

Before I could change my mind, she latched onto my finger and pulled me forward. We walked straight past the line of irritated club-goers. She flashed her ID at the bouncer, and without hesitation, the velvet rope lifted.

“I told you it wouldn’t be a problem.” Leonora smirked over her shoulder. “The first name’s wrong, but the last name’s right.”

Of course. She didn’t know the bouncer. She knew the Delacroix name would get her inside.

Before I could scold her, the pounding bass swallowed my voice.

The dance floor was already packed, bodies moving in sync with the music. Leonora made a beeline straight for the center, arms raised in triumph.

I just had to keep her safe for one hour.

How hard could that be?

Then she pivoted. “Actually, drinks first.”

I sighed as she darted toward the bar, vanishing into the crowd.

It was going to be the longest hour of my life.