CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LILA
I stare out the Uber window, completely in awe of the sex club.
I don’t know what I expected. Something grimy, maybe.
Dark. Sketchy. Smelly enough to make me cringe.
I pictured it tucked into some rundown part of town, like where I live, somewhere with flickering streetlamps and drunks stumbling in and out, chasing whatever escape they could find.
But holy hell. I forgot this is Aster’s place.
Of course, it’s nothing like I imagined. She blows my mind with everything she does. I mean, really, why would I expect anything less than jaw-dropping perfection?
The building rises like something out of a Gothic fairytale, just like the mansion from the Halloween party. This place is regal. Dramatic. Unapologetically grand. It wasn’t built for people like me.
Four stories of ivory stone rise toward the sky, adorned with ornate columns and intricately carved balconies befitting royalty.
Marble statues stand guard at the second-floor windows, watching over the entrance like silent protectors of whatever darkness may lie within.
But unlike the polished mansions of the Upper East Side or the sleek glass towers uptown, this place doesn’t care about being modern.
It appears to have stepped straight out of the early 1800s. The building screams romance.
And yet… every window is tinted and blacked out.
No light. No glimpse inside. Just panes of glossy glass swallowing the night, like the building itself is hiding something.
Or maybe someone. But I can’t help but feel connected to it…
to her. It feels just like me. Soft, welcoming, and polished on the outs ide, but no one sees through my windows.
They don’t see the part of me I keep buried deep within.
The contrast is unnerving. This historic masterpiece, cloaked in secrecy, like a cathedral built for sin.
My pulse kicks up. This isn’t some underground warehouse or velvet-curtained lounge.
This is indulgence. Luxury. Power. And the rich?
They walk in without shame, not caring who sees because this is their world.
This is where they belong, while the rest of us, the “normal” ones, sit on the outside, wondering what’s inside.
And it’s just sex. Something anyone can have anytime, without spending a dime. Yet somehow, they still flaunt it and make the rest of us feel like we’re missing out.
What a messed-up system.
And here I am falling right into the trap. I grab the door handle and hesitate. My hand freezes midair, hovering just inches from it. The last time I felt this way was outside Aster’s house, right before that Halloween party. I was unsure then, clinging to fear of the unknown.
But tonight feels different.
There is still fear, but there is fire too. Confidence. Curiosity. Fear will not get me anywhere. It will not get me laid. And it will not help me find the parts of myself I have been too afraid to face.
"Ma'am, I said we have arrived..." The driver’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I realize I am still sitting in the Uber.
"Oh. Right. Thank you so much," I say, handing him cash. I don’t hesitate for long, because this time, I am not the same girl who wants to turn back. I am ready.
The car door creaks open, and I step out. Cold air brushes my thighs, and I inhale the crisp breeze, the scent of fall grounding me as I try to steady my emotions. Goosebumps erupt across my legs, my teeth beginning to chatter. Of course, I forgot my jacket.
The sheer top clings to me like a second skin, each thread of floral lace revealing more than I have ever dared to show.
The off-the-shoulder neckline dips dangerously low, framing my chest like I am gift-wrapped for the holidays and ready to be opened.
The sleeves are loose and flowy, softening the look and giving it just enough of a feminine edge that screams Lila. And the skirt?
It’s practically lingerie. A temptation disguised as an invitation.
The mesh ruffles sway with each step, teasing the tops of my thighs.
My legs are long and freshly shaved, slick with shimmer oil that makes them look even longer, like something off a runway.
My waist is cinched, the kind that begs to be gripped.
Perfect for a man to pick me up and toss me onto a bed, no questions asked. And for once, I don’t feel invisible.
I feel like I did at the Halloween party. Seen. Wanted. Sensual. Which is terrifying, considering that night ended in a bit of a disaster. And yet, here I am again, swept right back into the madness. All because of her.
Aster stands near the entrance, leaning against the brick wall like she owns the night. One hand on her hip, head tilted, a single brow raised as she eyes me like I’m a piece of meat she’s about to devour.
“Damn, Lila.” She grins, pushing off the wall. “You look like you walked out of a wet dream. Just know I’d absolutely hit that. I’m not saying I’m into girls… but for you? I’d consider a personality shift.”
I giggle, my cheeks flushing. Usually, I’d argue when she says things like that. But tonight, she’s right. I look hot… and I know it. “You told me to get laid so I could relax,” I say, pu lling my skirt up to show a little more skin. “Well… It’s happening. Tonight.”
“Ohhh, I like this, Lila.” She whistles, circling me. “Lace? Legs? That hair? Babe, you’re about to make grown men forget their morals and their damn names.”
My golden waves tumble over my shoulders, catching the glow of the streetlights. “Good. Maybe they’ll finally know what it feels like to crave something they can’t touch. Because tonight I choose who I want.”
I adjust my top and push up boobs I don’t really have. But the way Aster’s eyes linger? I might believe it’s working.
“You’re not just showing up tonight,” she says. “You’re making an entrance.”
“Damn straight. I learned from the best,” I say with a wink.
As we reach the velvet curtain, my pulse pounds. Courage buzzes through me, but anxiety still lingers at the back of my mind.
Please, not tonight. Don’t let a panic attack ruin this.
I feel myself starting to dissociate, the noise and lights blurring at the edges, my breath catching in that familiar quiet panic.
She notices. Of course she does.
Aster steps in without a word and wraps me in a bear hug, pulling me tight against her chest. “Please know that I’m so proud of you,” she whispers.
“You’re doing an amazing job in every area of your life, even if it feels like your world is falling apart.
” She squeezes tighter, and honestly, I need it. I need her. I need this moment.
I rest my head on her shoulder, eyes burning, a tear threatening to fall. And if it does, I know I’ll lose the edge I worked so hard to build up for tonight.
I can’t let that happen .
So I blink it back and say, “Aster, don’t lie to me. The only reason you’re hugging me is to feel me up and get a better view of my tits.”
Then it happens. That sound I love. Her laugh, loud, unfiltered, contagious as hell. The kind of laugh that could brighten anyone’s day, even mine. Even now.
“Come on. They’re waiting!” Aster grabs my hand, dragging me past security, who barely glance at us.
Of course, they know her. She’s probably here every other night.
Inside, the first floor pulses with energy.
Neon strobe lights slice through the shadows, casting flashes of electric blue and hot pink across the room.
Pole dancers twist and arch on glowing platforms, their bodies glistening under the pulse of the lights.
They wear the sexiest lingerie I have ever seen.
Thongs that barely conceal anything, breasts of all shapes and sizes on proud display.
And those heels? Skyscraper tall. They move in them like they were born to, effortless, seductive, powerful.
“Lavender Haze” by Taylor Swift throbs from the speakers like a cinematic entrance made specifically for me and Aster.
The energy slams into me, just like the maze. My skin tingles. My thoughts slip. And I’m practically high off the atmosphere. One beat, one pulse, and I’m back, back to that unforgettable night.
Aster grabs my hand and pulls me toward a roped-off VIP table, where four scrumptious men lounge across a black leather circular booth, sipping on liquor that probably costs more than my rent.
This is not good… because I want every single one of them .
Their eyes are locked on the pole dancers, then the crowd on the dance floor, hunting, scanning, waiting for the next woman to catch their attention.
But then they see us. And just like that, everything else fades. These men are practically drooling. Two of them can’t take their eyes off Aster. The other two? They’re devouring me like I’m dessert.
Aster leans into my ear, her breath warm against my skin. “Checkmate for us.” Like this is just another game to her, and they’re the knights already bowing to the queen as she makes her next move. It clicks then why she always loved chess so much.
Back in boarding school, she was the state champion. At the time, I didn’t get the obsession, but now? It makes perfect sense. It was never about the board. It was about strategy. The power she holds. The thrill of getting inside her opponent’s head, ready to sacrifice a pawn and pin the king.
Because in here? Aster runs the whole damn game.
They look us up and down like we are tonight’s entertainment, but fun fact, they are ours. “Did you save us drinks?” She purrs, bending over the table as she snatches one of the glasses out of the hand of a dark-haired, caramel-skinned muscle god with the most perfect full beard I’ve ever seen.
He smirks, his brown eyes lighting up as she brings his crystal whiskey glass to her lips and downs every last drop without blinking.
She did not just do that.