Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Isla
The whiskey burns down my throat, but not nearly enough to wash away the bad taste of my life. I wrap my fingers tighter around the tumbler, watching amber swirl while the bass from the club’s sound system thrums through my chest like a second heartbeat.
Eclipse House is the last place I should be drowning my sorrows.
Home would make more sense. Me, a blanket, and a pint of triple-chocolate ice cream like a normal woman whose life imploded on schedule. But normal flew out the window the moment I signed Knox Vale’s contract and handed over my future with one shaky signature.
I came here to breathe. To forget.
And maybe coming out alone this late, to a club straddling the shadows between SoHo and Chinatown, isn’t the best decision I've ever made. But I’m here anyway.
And I’m fine—semi-safe. Mia’s boyfriend, Logan, handles security on Saturdays, and half the staff know my face.
But staff are one thing. Strangers are another.
If something happens to me, it won’t be because of the staff.
It’ll be one of the strangers watching from the dark corners, pretending they aren't.
A chill runs down my spine. I shove it away before it digs in. Panicking isn’t on tonight’s agenda. Not yet, anyway.
The bar's sleek marble surface feels cool against my forearms as I lean forward, letting my hair curtain my face. Around me, the club pulses with life. Bodies move on the dance floor to the latest mix, laughter blends with the music, and people are living their uncomplicated lives. I’d bet I’m the only person here who has to get married to save their family's restaurant.
Save?
No, that’s not entirely true. Saving would imply that I get to keep it in the end. But I don’t.
I don’t even know what will happen. Knox holds the power to that knowledge, too.
I keep seeing him in his office.
Forget wolf in sheep’s clothing. Knox Vale is a fire-breathing dragon in a tailored suit and Berluti shoes.
He and his brother—Dorian—had that foreboding presence that could frazzle your nerves and stop your heart with their unnatural good looks. But Knox was different.
Dorian was all poise and polish, the kind of handsome that looked untouchable.
Knox was danger wrapped in charm, the kind of man who made the air shift when he entered a room.
And the way he told me I was his, and called me love… ugh.
As if we’d known each other forever, or like he was from somewhere in England where that kind of endearment is almost expected.
I hated it. I hate everything. And I hate him.
My life wasn’t supposed to turn out this way—marriage to a stranger. I still can’t believe it.
What the hell did I do to deserve this?
I’ve tried to be good all my life. The only bad thing I ever did was break into Madame Corvina’s tent and break her ornament. If this is payback for that, then I’m doomed.
But why am I paying for my father’s sins?
Surely it should be my own. Maybe it’s because I refused to see him for who he was.
My grief has shifted since I landed in this new hell. Anger has filled the hole, along with deep, deep, deep disappointment. Dad wasn’t the man I thought I knew. He was a good father, but he wasn’t a good person.
In my heart, I think I always knew something wasn’t right.
“Hey, Isla?” Jack, the bartender, slides in front of me, bracing his palms on the bar.
He’s got that easy, good-natured smile he always wears—dimples and soft eyes that make him look more Golden Retriever than nightlife employee.
His navy shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, showing forearms dusted with ink from a tattoo he never finished, and his sandy hair is half-tamed like he ran his hands through it one too many times.
“Do you need anything else? I’m heading out in a minute. ”
“Just another shot of whiskey, please.”
He bites the inside of his lip, studying me like he can read the cracks under my mascara. “You sure? I’ve never known you to be a whiskey girl.”
“I need it tonight.” I try for casual, but my voice comes out thin. I’m a fruity-cocktail, sugared-rim type of girl. Whiskey is sharp, decisive, a little ruthless. But it’s giving me the kind of buzz I need, and I’m nowhere near my limit yet.
His brows pull together. “Hope everything is alright.”
Poor Jack. He's probably seen plenty of women like me tonight. All dressed up with nowhere good to go, drowning their troubles in hard liquor.
“I’ll be okay.” What a big fat lie. But what else can I tell him? Outside of my immediate family, no one can know the truth.
“I sure hope so. Let me go grab that drink for you.”
“Thanks.”
He winks and saunters off to pour my drink. A moment later, he slides the shot in front of me, along with a single Hershey’s chocolate kiss. “Thought this might help, too.”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it. “Thank you. You’re a good man, Jack.”
“Shhh. Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” He flashes another grin before heading down the bar to someone waving for him.
As soon as he’s gone, the smile fades from my lips, but I eat the chocolate and reach for my drink.
The whiskey burns stronger this time, but warmth unfurls through my veins, loosening something tight in my chest.
I'm halfway through it when I feel eyes on me.
Not the casual glances I've been getting all night, but something heavier. More deliberate and heated. It makes the hair on the back of my neck rise.
Instinctively, I look over my shoulder, following the direction of the pull. And damn it, my gaze collides with Knox Vale’s.
Standing on the first-floor balcony, he looks down at me like a king surveying his domain. And I'm his newest acquisition.
Gone are the jacket and tie from earlier. He’s in a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms.
His stare has me frozen, even though my pulse is galloping.
God, what in the hell is he doing here?
This can’t be a coincidence. No way.
Seeing him once was enough for today. Why am I seeing him again so soon?
I come to this club with Mia regularly enough to say I have never seen him here. And someone like him would never come to a place like this.
So, the obvious answer is he’s here for me. But why?
An easy grin slides across his mouth, and even though we’re about twenty feet apart, I can see that flicker of interest alive in his bright blue gaze.
I look away and stare ahead at the shelves of liquor.
I don’t want to talk to him. The best thing to do is leave, but I’d need to get past him to head for the exit.
Damn it. I’m not ready to leave yet. But I don’t want to sit here where he can see me.
Think, Isla. Think.
The VIP lounge comes to mind. Mia’s boyfriend told us we could use it anytime we’re here. Granted, I’m usually here with Mia, and the offer was for her, but I don’t think anyone would turn me away.
Only one way to find out. And if it works, I can stay there until I’m ready to go home.
I down my drink and turn oh so slowly to check if Knox is still there.
He’s not. I can’t see him anywhere. Chances are he’s making his way down here to terrorize me.
No matter. Now’s the best time to make my escape.
I get off the barstool and make my way to the corridor on my left. There’s a secret stairway to the VIP lounge.
Once I’m through the crowd of dancing bodies, I head up the stairs. The moment I reach the top, I feel slightly better.
The guard at the lounge door simply smiles at me and waves me in.
Yes. Mission accomplished. I’m in. And there’s only a handful of couples up here in the private booths.
I rush to the furthest one. It’s by the arched window in the darkest corner. People use this booth when they want to hide out or have more privacy. I need both.
I lower my body to the chaise, take five deep breaths, then search through the shit clogging my mind for something to calm me. I settle on the artwork I’m currently working on.
I think of the vibrant colors in the design and try to lose myself.
I close my eyes. Then I hear footsteps. Heavy and sure, approaching me.
Before I even open my eyes, I know the monster has found me.
I open one eye, then the other, and sure enough, there he is.
Knox Vale, my future husband. Tall, ridiculously handsome, and standing before me like the Prince of Darkness.
Shadows seem to cling to him, enhancing his raw, male beauty as he regards me, and a dark smile floats across his mouth. “Hello, love.”
There’s that damn word again—love.
Hearing anybody else call me that would be heartwarming. But him? No, no, no.
“Why are you here?” I snap. I can’t help myself.
“Because you’re here,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“That’s not an answer. How did you even know I was here? Please, tell me you don’t have some tracker on me.”
He smiles wider, revealing dimples. Of course, he would have dimples.
“I have eyes everywhere, Isla Monroe. You can’t escape me.”
My mouth falls open. “You’re kidding.”
“I don’t joke.”
I believe him. He doesn’t need humor when control is his currency. “You think because I signed that contract, you get to have me followed?”
Knox tilts his head, gaze cool and steady. “You agreed to my terms and conditions, Miss Monroe. So, yes—I can.”
“Well, now that you’ve found me, you can leave me alone.”
“I don’t like you in a nightclub by yourself. Drinking and vulnerable. Planning God knows what.” He ignores my request like I never said a word.
I blink at him, trying to process this level of audacity. “I come here all the time. It’s safe. And planning? What exactly do you think I’m planning?”
He sits beside me. And he’s too damn close. Close enough that the heat of him brushes my skin, close enough that his scent overwhelms the whiskey and sweat in the neon-soaked night.
A low hum vibrates from his chest. “Drinking alone usually signals one thing.”
My pulse skips. “And what’s that?”
He doesn’t look away. “Hooking up.”
“Hooking up?” I raise my brows.