1. Elara
Elara
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Cecily whispers as we step into the alleyway. The cab behind us peels away, leaving nothing but the sound of our own heartbeats pounding in the dead of night.
Our heels click along the pavement, echoing off the walls surrounding us, dulling the nerves that are starting to fray inside me.
It took a lot to convince Cecily to come with me tonight. I would have come alone, but things tend to be more fun with my best friend around.
“Since when have you not enjoyed any of our adventures?” I snark as we approach the only door in the alley. A small window covered by a sliding metal partition sits dead center while a glowing ‘V’ sits above the door, highlighting every dingy part of the alley.
Vice has been the talk of the city for a while. It sits close to the coast of L.A., where concrete meets the sea, completely out of bounds for the likes of me. Which is why I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.
Cecily grabs my hand, halting me in my steps. I turn around, only to see her brows furrowed at me.
“El, this isn’t like any other adventures we’ve taken. This isn’t our territory.”
I take a deep breath because she’s right.
We’re not just going out to dance the night away like a pair of young girls looking for fun.
We’re in the underbelly of Villarona, the deepest, darkest parts of the city that my father warns me about.
Gangs run this side of the city, gangs with blood on their hands and blades in their pockets.
Gangs who will take a life without blinking and sleep better at night for it.
Villarona isn’t just a city, it’s a battlefield.
Every week, something is happening: someone is killed, someone is threatened.
It’s getting worse and worse, and my family are at the heart of it.
Our biggest enemy—or rather my father’s enemy—is the Sinners.
Men who set their own rules. Men who will shoot first and ask questions later.
Thinking about it, I realize why Cecily is so reluctant to be here, but she’d never let me come to this side of the city alone.
“Look,” I sigh, reaching forward and pressing my hands to her shoulders. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she murmurs, and I see the genuine worry on her face. It’s obscured by the shadows and dull street lamps, but it’s there.
Cecily isn’t one who is scared easily. She’s ferocious in every sense. The way she walks, the way she talks. Having grown up together, losing one another isn’t something either of us are willing to allow. She’s my ride or die, but she holds a cautious edge that has always steered me out of trouble.
Until now.
“It’s just a nightclub, babe.” I spin around and march towards the steps that lead to the solid metal door. Just as I reach for the handle, I peer over my shoulder. “So let’s have a good time.”
Cecily’s shoulders drop with defeat. She knows when I have my heart set on something, nothing can stand in my way. Not even my best friend. So she ambles up the few steps to join me, sliding her hand into mine. “First sign of trouble and we’re leaving.”
Tonight, I’ve decided to wear a gold silk mini dress and matching strappy heels. The color complements my sun-kissed skin and brown eyes. I also styled my blonde hair in loose waves because no matter what I do, my hair never stays in one place.
Cecily idles beside me, shifting from one foot to the other.
I don’t miss the shiver that comes when a gust of wind blows past us.
She’s wearing a black cowl neck dress, one that scoops just underneath her ass and shows off her long tanned arms and legs.
Her black hair is styled poker straight tonight, whipping in the breeze as I knock on the metal door.
Tonight is all about letting loose, and apparently Vice is exactly the place to be.
The metal window in front of us slides open, and a pair of dark eyes stare back at me through the hole in the door. “Password.”
I clear my throat, briefly glancing sideways at my best friend. “Firstblood,” I say, clear and precise.
A solid thud ricochets around us before the door swings open and exposes a dark corridor.
My heart pounds, and the excitement that’s been building inside of me for the last two hours finally buzzes to life.
I’m the first to move into the darkness, with Cecily following closely behind me.
My ears vibrate with every step we take, the sound echoing in my brain.
With her hand in mine, we move further down the corridor until a faint red hue peeks out from under a single door on our left. The light flashes to purple, then to white, a symphony of colors that pulse with the dull beat I can now feel in my chest.
I push through the door, feeling the rush of heat envelop me. Heavy bass music pounds through the floor, my whole body buzzing with anticipation.
There’s a set of stairs that lead down into the heart of the night club, winding down like a snake. I can already smell the sweat and liquor filling the room below as soon as my heel hits the step.
With every tentative step I take, my heart races faster. I rub my palm against Cecily’s, her own just as just as sweaty as mine, her fingers twitching restlessly. Her hand is just as sweaty as mine, her fingers twitching restlessly.
We descend the steps, the music growing louder and louder as we approach the main floor.
It’s dark—aside from the strobe lights that change color every few seconds.
The club is separated into areas; the dance floor sits to the right, where a DJ booth takes center stage.
A bar stretches the length of the club, stocked with rare liquors and unmarked bottles.
Everything here is high-end and illicit, and I’m not sure what I’m more excited about.
One side of the bar stops next to a VIP area that is roped off and guarded by two large men in suits.
They stand rigid, hands folded in front of them with stoic looks on their faces.
On the other side of the bar, there are two doors.
One reads ‘staff only’ while the other says ‘the backrooms’.
Everything about this place screams secrets and pleasure.
I don’t know what I came here to find tonight, but I think I might have found it.
I’m no stranger to a nightclub. Ever since I turned sixteen, I’ve been breaking out of the house to explore the darker sides of the city. Though I’ve never ventured to this side of the city, I’ve experienced enough of Villarona to know where the best places to go are.
Until tonight, I’ve always stayed on the King’s side—the territory my father runs, but life is boring and repetitive. Going to the same clubs to see the same people is enough for me to want to poke my eyeballs out.
It’s why I’m tugging Cecily towards the bar, taking up two seats against it and waiting to catch the attention of one of the bar staff. The music is so loud I can barely speak, but when a cute bartender approaches, I don’t need to say a thing.
His neon green hair is the first thing that draws me to him. Vibrant hair that sweeps across his forehead, spikey in various directions that gives him that ‘just got out of bed’ look. It’s long on top but short on the sides, offering me a glimpse of the scar across his brow.
He places two glasses down in front of us before reaching for a bottle on the other side of the bar. With a smile on his face, he pours out two heavy measures of blue liquid into the glasses.
My eyes widen, but that only earns a wink from the guy as he slides them towards us.
“What is this?” Cecily asks, scrunching her nose.
“Vice special,” the bartender purrs, his lips curling up in a mischievous line that shows off the tiny dimples in his cheeks.
“All the virgins get it.”
“Virgins?” I sputter.
“Vice Virgins, Princess.” Even over the loud music, I don’t miss the way his voice lowers with devious intent. The glimmer in his eyes tells me he’s not afraid to be so forward—hell, he probably gets paid extra just to be a little more flirty.
Cecily reaches for the drink, but before she can take it a blade pierces the bar in front of us, a tattooed hand wrapping around the hilt.
We both jolt back, my heart lurching up my throat.
“You can’t drink without playing the game,” the bartender growls with a crazy gleam in his eye.
I look at Cecily, and she’s wearing the same look as me; a blend of fear and excitement.
Though hers is probably more fear. I rest my elbows on the edge of the bar, allowing the stickiness of liquor to cling to my skin.
Under the flashing lights, I can make out the color of the man’s eyes; a dark green that almost matches his hair.
“Alright,” I lean forward, “what’s the game?”
“Stabscotch,” he grins back, a psychotic glint twinkling in his eyes.
I tilt my head with curiosity. “And how do we play?”
The bartender leans forward, exposing intriguing designs on his forearms. It’s hard to ignore the ripple of muscle as he twists his hand around the hilt of the knife playfully, veins popping and straining.
I’d love to trace them, to figure out what each one means, because let’s be honest; who doesn’t love a bit of excitement in their lives?
I gulp as he gets closer, his nose almost touching mine. He reaches his hand out, sliding the cool blade down my cheek. A shiver runs down my spine as his breath skates across my lips, but it’s soon replaced with the heat of another body.
“Cash,” a deep voice comes from beside me. There’s a warning in his tone, overshadowed with a playfulness that tells me these two are familiar with one another.
I look up at the owner of said deep voice, startled by dark brown hair and matching eyes.
His hair is styled back in a sleek, classic cut.
His jawline is sharp enough to cut glass, but softened by the faint brush of stubble.
He’s wearing a suit, looking clean and business-like.
He must be the owner of this place, because he looks like he’s two seconds away from firing the guy in front of us.
“Ladies,” the guy I now know as Cash winks.
“It’s been a pleasure.” He slides away from the bar, and I can’t help it when my gaze follows him towards the door labeled ‘The Backrooms’.
His ass looks delicious in a pair of dark slacks, and there’s no denying he works out based on the way his navy shirt clings to his body.
What I wouldn’t do to have someone like that on me, because I have no doubt he knows how to play.
He might look a little crazy, but that only makes things more fun.
“You don’t want to go there,” the man chuckles. “Trust me.”
I spin around in my seat, narrowing my eyes on the stranger who thinks he knows me. “And why’s that?”
The stranger steps closer to me, so close I can feel his heartbeat against my chest. Heat simmers beneath my skin as his eyes tour my body. “Because, darling, that man will kill you once he’s finished with you.”
If that’s an attempt to scare me, it won’t work. And if that’s a threat, he needs to try harder. I come from a family where danger is the least of our worries. Besides, I get off on the thrill of it.
Stepping off my stool, I lace my arms around his neck. He’s at least six-foot-two, with muscles that would rival most football players. He doesn’t budge when I lean up to trace my lips against the shell of his ear, a not-so-easy task even with heels on.
“Not if I kill him first,” I whisper with menace in my voice.
I pull back just enough to see the glimmer of hunger cross his face, his lips pulling up into the kind of smile that heats my cheeks.
I’m suddenly thankful for the lack of natural light in this place, because even I’m ashamed of the way that one look is my undoing.
“Well, aren’t you a surprise?” His words curl around me.
“Stick around, and you’ll find out,” I say, glancing up at him beneath my long dark eyelashes.
“I wish I could, Miss…”
“Elara,” I purr in response.
“Elara,” the man repeats, tasting the name with intrigue before taking my hand and lifting it to his lips. He presses a kiss on the back of my palm, making the hairs on my arm stand up. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
He goes to turn away but I reach for his wrist, halting him from taking another step away from me. I don’t want him to leave, not when things were just starting to heat up. He already sent Cash away, and he looked like fun.
“You sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?” I croon, pouting.
The stranger takes the opportunity to run the pad of his thumb across it, smearing my lipstick in the process.
“I’m afraid, duty calls,” he sighs. "Be sure to put your drinks on my tab, though.” He gestures to another bartender who’s hovering nearby.
Though he’s not as good-looking as Cash, he’ll definitely do for now.
I turn back towards the stranger, tilting my head inquisitively. “Do you have a name?”
He pauses for a moment, looking me up and down. I know I’ve got his approval when his eyes linger on my bare legs, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Stick around, and you’ll find out.”
He tilts his head before leaving without a single glance over his shoulder. The confidence he exudes is borderline criminal. Between him and Cash, I don’t know who I find more attractive. There’s benefits to crazy, and there’s something even more enticing about a man who knows how to wear a suit.
“Down girl,” Cecily teases, interrupting my thoughts. She slides the bright blue drink towards me before raising her own. “I don’t know what the fuck is in this, but I’m hoping it helps me forget we’re in Sinner’s territory.