Chapter 12 A Punishment
Luxe pulsed with life—music thundering through the walls, bass vibrating against the floor, lights slicing through the darkness in sharp, chaotic bursts. Laughter and shouts spilled out onto the street, blending with the hum of revving cars and heels clicking on pavement.
Mia stepped forward, ready to enter when a familiar voice called from behind.
“Mia?”
She spun sharply.
Hazel hurried toward her, eyes bright with relief. “I thought you were already inside!”
“I was,” Mia replied, forcing a small smile. “I came out to take a call. I was just heading back in.”
Hazel slipped an arm around her shoulder, tugging her along. The moment they crossed the threshold, the club swallowed them whole—the music hit her chest like a wave, the lights spinning around her, and the smell of perfume and alcohol mingling in the heavy air.
They wove through the crowd until they reached the table Hazel had reserved and slid into their seats. Hazel’s eyes flicked over Mia’s face for a heartbeat, then her brow furrowed.
“Seriously… are you exhausted?” she asked.
“What?” Mia frowned in confusion.
“You’ve got dark circles under your eyes,” Hazel said bluntly, leaning closer. “I can see them even in this lighting. Seriously, men aren’t worth stressing over this much.”
Mia answered immediately, words tumbling out before Hazel could react. “It’s not because of Alexander.”
“Did I say it was him?” Hazel shot back, eyes narrowing, but then her lips curved into a soft, teasing laugh. She studied Mia, reading the tension etched into her posture.
“Stop bothering me,” Mia said, frowning, her expression smoothing into a mask of nonchalance. She pulled her hair back behind her ears and reached for the cocktail on the table. “I’m not worried about anything at all. You’re overthinking it. Stop ruining my night and let me drink.”
Before Hazel could respond, Mia tilted the glass back and downed it in one swift motion.
“Holy shit,” Hazel laughed, eyes wide. “You are really disturbed.”
“I told you I’m not disturbed,” Mia insisted, already reaching for another glass and draining it as quickly as the first.
Hazel exhaled, taking the empty glass from her hand and fixing her with a serious, almost pleading look. “Okay. Enough. What actually happened?”
Mia hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
Her gaze swept over the crowd—the dancers moving, the music thumping relentlessly, the chaotic brightness of flashing lights.
The energy was intoxicating but overwhelming, making her feel raw and exposed.
Exhaustion weighed on her shoulders—exhaustion from work, from running into James, from Alexander, from the unrelenting pull of emotions she couldn’t control.
Finally, she let it spill. Her voice was quiet at first, but it grew steadier as she recounted everything:
Meeting James.
Alexander showing up again.
The hospital.
The fight.
By the time she finished, Hazel was staring at her, worry written clearly in the lines around her eyes.
“What do you want to do now?” she asked softly, her voice almost drowned beneath the pounding music.
Mia groaned, dropping her head slightly, letting her hair fall over her face. “I don’t know… I don’t know anything,” she admitted, voice tight with exhaustion.
Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“Mia?”
Her body stiffened instantly, every muscle taut. She lifted her gaze cautiously and saw Gavin approaching the table, eyes locked on her.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, a flush creeping up her neck.
Gavin, however, didn’t seem to notice her reaction. He wore that easy, bright smile of his. He pulled out a chair and slid smoothly onto the seat across from her.
“I was looking for you that day!” he said casually, as if the chaos of the club and her visible tension didn’t exist. “Where did you disappear to without telling me?”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed slightly, confusion crossing her face. “Wait—didn’t you two go out for dinner together?” Her eyes fell on Mia, “You disappeared?”
Gavin froze, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his features. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was my fault,” he admitted finally. “I said some stupid things about her husband, and… Mia got upset.”
Mia waved a hand dismissively, looking away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “It’s not a big deal.” Her tone was calm, but there was an edge to it. Then, curiosity edged her words. “So… what are you doing here?”
“Just here for drinks,” Gavin said casually, hiding the truth—how he’d seen her outside earlier and followed her in.
Now that they were sitting together, he couldn’t hide his relief. He leaned back slightly, a grin tugging at his lips, and lifted a drink toward her. “Here. I owe you an apology for that day.”
He poured another glass for himself and slid one toward Hazel. Hazel accepted the drink with a polite, careful smile.
Mia had no choice but to lift her glass too. She hesitated for half a second, glanced at the liquid suspiciously, then tipped it back in one swift motion.
The warmth burned down her throat.
She coughed softly, eyes watering. “Okay,” she said seriously, blinking. “That one… attacked me.”
Hazel burst out laughing. “You drank it so fast!”
“I wasn’t ready,” Mia defended herself, fanning her mouth with her hand. “Why does it feel like it’s burning my soul?”
Gavin chuckled, shoulders relaxing. “That means it’s working.”
“Working at what?” Mia asked earnestly. “Making me regret my choices?”
Hazel leaned back, grinning. “Possibly.”
Soon, all three were drinking. The music throbbed around them, bass vibrating through the table. The air felt warmer now. With each passing minute, Gavin visibly loosened up, his laughter coming easier, his movements less guarded.
Mia rested her chin on her palm, watching the crowd dance with faint curiosity. “Do people actually enjoy dancing like that?” she asked, tilting her head. “Or is it a hallucination?”
Hazel choked on her drink.
“I’m serious,” Mia insisted. “Look at that guy. He’s been doing the same move for five minutes.”
“That’s called confidence,” Gavin said, amused.
Mia squinted harder, studying the dance floor with concern. “No, seriously. That looks like ankle pain.”
Hazel completely lost it.
She bent forward, laughing so hard she had to brace her hands on the table, wiping under her eyes as she tried to breathe. “You are unbelievable. I bring you to a club and you’re diagnosing people.”
“I’m just saying,” Mia replied calmly, sipping her drink. “Someone should check on him.”
Gavin laughed too, shaking his head as he followed Mia’s gaze toward the struggling dancer.
As the laughter faded, the table grew quieter, the mood shifting naturally into something calmer. Gavin’s smile softened. He glanced at Mia, then reached across the table and lightly placed his hand over hers.
“Hey,” he said softly, voice nearly lost beneath the music. “Don’t be upset, okay?”
Mia blinked, surprised.
“Things like that happen between friends, right?” Gavin continued, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of her hand. “I said something you didn’t like. I apologized. Let it go.”
Mia blinked, then nodded slowly. “Oh. That?” She glanced at their hands, then back up at him, completely unbothered. “I already forgot,” she admitted honestly. “If you hadn’t brought it up again, I wouldn’t have remembered.”
Hazel stared at her. “You’re kidding.”
Mia shook her head. “No. My brain deletes stressful things automatically. It’s a survival skill.”
Gavin laughed, genuinely this time. He loosened his grip but didn’t pull away immediately. “That’s… actually impressive.”
“It’s also dangerous,” Hazel added. “She forgets arguments but remembers the most random little things.”
“That’s not true,” Mia protested.
Hazel smirked, leaning back in her chair. “It totally is!”
Mia narrowed her eyes, shooting Hazel a mock glare. Her head already felt light, the alcohol dulling the sharp edges of her thoughts. The music pulsed through her chest, making it harder to focus—harder to think.
Inside, Gavin’s thoughts churned with quiet satisfaction.
‘Anyway, if you divorce your husband, I’ll be the next one,’ he thought smugly. ‘All I have to do is make you fall in love with me. I’ll just keep reminding you how terrible your husband is.’
Unaware of the calculation behind his gentle smile, Mia lifted her glass again and drank.
At that exact moment, Harold stepped into the club.
His gaze immediately locked onto the familiar figures at the table—Mia and Hazel. Relief flashed across his face, but it vanished just as quickly when he noticed someone else seated with them. His steps slowed.
Then he saw it clearly.
Gavin’s hand clasped around Mia’s, his body leaned in too close, his mouth tilted toward her ear as he spoke.
Harold stopped short.
His lips curled into a grin that was half-amusement, half-trouble. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone, snapped a clear photo, and sent it straight to Alexander.
‘This is what happens when you upset your wife. Your replacement is already here! Hahahha!’
Satisfied, Harold slid his phone back into his pocket and headed toward the table, still grinning.
Gavin looked up just as Harold stopped beside them.
“Hey, man,” Harold greeted casually, nodding at him.
Gavin’s eyes flicked to Mia, then back to Harold, curiosity tightening his smile. “…Is this your husband?”
Mia’s eyes widened for a split second—then her expression hardened like someone had just offered her expired milk.
“No.”
The sharpness in her voice made it worse.
“He is not,” she repeated, as if even the idea disgusted her.
Harold blinked, looking almost offended by how violently she reacted. “Hey— I’m not that bad,” he shot back. “I wouldn’t be that terrible of a husband.”
Mia pressed a hand to her mouth, trying not to gag. “Your cousin is my husband! That’s enough. Stop talking.”