Chapter 6 The Bar
Midnight on the night of the gig.
I walked into the upscale Bar using the address Lin Fei sent.
She rushed over. “When it’s over, I got you a driver. I’ll send the plate number.” She stressed it three times—dangerous at night, only take that car.
Then she hurried off again, like she was dodging someone.
I found the DJ booth, slipped on the headphones, and gave the crowd below a small smile and nod.
Whistles rose up.
The prelude filled the space. I lowered the needle. Vinyl spun. My left hand worked the mixer knobs while shadows swayed below.
The rush was addictive.
When the beat dropped, I kept the energy high, hands flying across the equipment.
Then the crowd erupted.
Chen Yinian stood in the center, glass raised in one hand, smile on his lips as he moved through the dancers.
A simple black T-shirt made his pale skin glow colder under the lights, the strobes catching every shift of his body and pulling every woman’s eyes toward him.
I wanted to drown in this dream and never wake up.
Chen Yinian, who were you trying to hook this time?
No matter how big or small his moves, he looked effortlessly stunning. His soft lips caught the flashing lights.
Seductive and innocent at once.
But he never looked at me. Not once.
After the party ended, Lin Fei didn’t show.
I texted her, then slipped out the back to find the car.
Only one understated Maybach waited at the curb.
I checked the plate several times before accepting my fate and reaching for the door.
Lin Fei really looked out for me.
The back door wouldn’t open no matter how many times I pulled.
I knocked on the tinted window.
Nothing.
Asleep? I tried the front passenger door. It opened.
Inside was dark. I didn’t see the driver’s face.
Only after I sat did I catch, in the corner of my eye, that familiar pale wrist resting on the steering wheel.
My smartwatch blared a heart-rate alert.
It echoed in the silent car, loud and embarrassing.
I ripped it off and clutched it, scrambling for the door.
Click.
Locked.
I sat frozen.
My nose burned as tears poured down.
I stayed rigid, facing the window.
The glass reflected my mess of a face—and Chen Yinian’s outline behind me.
That voice I’d heard in countless dreams finally spoke.
“Cry for what.”
He sounded tired, almost lazy.
I froze. Fear and helplessness flooded me. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
A gentle hand settled on my shoulder and turned me around.
His thumb brushed my lip, easing my teeth away.