26. Chapter 21
Chased By One, Caught By Another
Sebastian
B as never thought he'd have to convince his friends not to go to the Pearls, but Chris and Bellamy seemed to be craving more variety lately.
It was Friday night, and after the usual back-and-forth about where to go, they actually settled on a club Bellamy had suggested.
The Mosaic was the kind of club where anyone could get in, a little dive with peeling walls and cheap lighting, but the music was electric, the kind that crawled under your skin and made you forget where you were. It was across town.
"A different neighborhood, a different vibe, different girls," Chris had said with a grin.
"No Pearls tonight," Bellamy added with a smirk.
"Mosaic?" Bas shook his head as they walked, the streets narrowing, the lights becoming less familiar. "I don’t know... When’s the last time we even went here?" he asked, a mix of skepticism and amusement in his tone.
Chris, however, seemed thrilled. "Change of scenery, man. Trust me, this is whe re the best party in the city is tonight."
Maybe this was exactly what he needed—new faces, no history breathing down his neck.
A flicker of anticipation stirred in him, unexpected but not unwelcome.
When they finally stepped through the Mosaic’s narrow entrance, they were immediately hit by the pounding beat of the music. The lights flickered in sync with the rhythm, and the room seemed alive with movement.
It was different—darker, tighter, yet buzzing with energy.
Bellamy and Chris quickly made themselves comfortable in the VIP section, claiming a raised booth with a view of the dance floor.
Bas sank into the leather couch beside them, his gaze sweeping across the room.
Maybe this was exactly what he needed—a drink, good music, and no ghosts from the past looming over him.
"Hey, you guys want drinks?" Bellamy asked casually, grinning as he nodded toward a group of girls laughing at a nearby table.
Bas followed his gaze and before he knew it, Bellamy was already charmingly waving them over. A girl with sleek copper hair and a bright smile broke away from the group, bringing two friends with her. Well, that was quick...
"Tequila shots!" Chris shouted to the waiter, gesturing toward the girls.
Bas leaned back, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips as the copper-haired girl, who introduced herself as Cara, sat down beside him.
There was something about her that immediately caught his attention—shy, almost too shy for this club.
Yet the pounding bass and flashing lights didn’t seem to faze her.
Bas raised his glass and toasted her, easing into casual conversation. His lips curved into a slight smile, and he realized, to his own surprise, that he was actually relaxing. Maybe it was her gentle demeanor, or the way her laugh was contagious, but for a moment, he felt... at ease.
"Honestly, no," he said, his voice unusually calm as they chatted. "We just wanted to try something different."
Even he was surprised at how effortlessly he managed to smooth out the rough edges of his typically guarded self, if only for a little while. He glance d down at the empty glass in his hand.
I should slow down.
As Cara handed him another shot, he shook his head and reached for a glass of water instead. His gaze wandered back to the crowd—an automatic reflex rather than a conscious choice. His body stiffened the moment his eyes found her.
Evin was in the middle of the dance floor, her body shimmering under the kaleidoscope of lights. She was laughing, her head thrown back, and behind her was a guy Bas didn’t recognize.
What the hell? The man was tall, lean, and dressed in a fitted black T-shirt that hugged his muscular arms. Tattoos coiled up his forearms and disappeared beneath his sleeves like secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Bas watched as Evin turned to face him, moving in sync, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. His stomach twisted.
A slow, burning heat coiled in his chest, tightening with every second he watched her. Not moving for him. Moving for that guy.
How long had she even known him? Minutes?
His jaw clenched tightly, teeth grinding as his grip on the glass in his hand turned his knuckles white.
What do you think you’re doing?
His breath grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with the effort to suppress the surge of emotion threatening to boil over.
He raised the glass to his lips and drained it in one gulp, the cold water barely quelling the storm inside. It was a good thing it wasn’t alcohol, or he might’ve done something reckless. The music pounded around him, but it was nothing more than a faint hum in the background.
All he could see was her—her hands running over her hips, the guy’s hand inching dangerously low toward her ass, as if he had a right to touch her like that.
Bas forced his gaze away from the dance floor and stalked toward the bar, needing something—anything—to distract him from the sight burned into his brain. He leaned against the counter, ordering another drink, determined to put space between himself and the twisted spectacle on the dance floor.
But just as he set his elbows on the bar, a familiar figure appeared beside him.
It was Evin, her breath still heavy from dancing, her skin glowing, her eyes glimmering with something distant, as if she were lost in another world.
She waved to the bartender, trying to catch his attention, but he was too preoccupied with other orders to notice her.
She was impossible to ignore. Skin glowing under the lights, eyes sharp with something he couldn’t quite place, like she was still half in the music.
The kind of beautiful that made looking away feel like losing.
And he hated that—it was too easy, too familiar, that pull toward her, like a bruise he kept pressing just to feel something.
Bas clenched his jaw, refusing to look at her. Refusing to let her know she was still in his gravity.
But then she let out a frustrated sigh, glancing around, and something in him snapped—a reflex he couldn’t suppress, no matter how much he wanted to.
Without a word, he grabbed his water and placed it in front of her, his eyes fixed on a spot beyond her shoulder. “Here,” he muttered, his tone clipped, almost cold. “Drink this.”
Evin glanced at him, surprised, the cool touch of the water grounding her for a brief moment. She looked like she was about to say something—a thank you or maybe a sharp retort—but instead, she simply took the glass, sipped, and kept her gaze lowered.
Bas watched her from the corner of his eye, and with every second he observed her, his anger dulled. In its place came a bittersweet ache that tightened in his chest.
___________
Evi n
E vin held the glass for a moment, a flicker of surprise twisting in her stomach when she saw Bas. Of all places, it had to be this club—the one where she’d come to escape, to put distance between them.
What is he even doing here?
So there he was, serious, wearing that faintly possessive look—like he had the right to care. Did he actually think she was drunk? Ridiculous . Her head was perfectly clear—she had ballet training the next morning, something he obviously knew nothing about.
She sipped the water slowly, her eyes locked on his, enjoying the faint tingle his presence sent through her.
It was strange how he could still feel so close, even though she’d done everything to move past him.
And now, here he was, so nonchalantly inserting himself into her space, stirring emotions she’d tried to bury.
Yet, no matter how much it unsettled her, a quiet thrill curled in her chest.
The hint of a playful challenge glimmered in her smile as she set the glass down.
“Happy?” she asked softly, her tone laced with a subtle irony.
A spark danced in her eyes, betraying how much she relished unbalancing him—just a little.
But before he could respond, she turned on her heel and walked back to Sergej, who waited patiently as if Bas’s arrival had done nothing to rattle her composure.
__________
Sebastian
B efore Bas could think twice, his hand wrapped around her wrist, the rapid pulse beneath his fingers betraying her calm exterior. “Don’t go,” he said, his voice harder than he intended—almost possessive.
Evin turned to him, her eyes sharp, searching for answers in his expression, which only fueled his frustration. “Why not?” Her voice was calm, but provocatively so.
Something dark and fiery ignited inside him. “Because I said so,” he shot back, his gaze unwavering, his grip firm. “Who is he? And what do you want with him?”
She scoffed softly, that mocking glint in her eyes nearly driving him over the edge. “Since when do you care?”
He pulled her closer, so close he could catch the faint scent of her perfume and feel the slight tremor in her hand beneath his grip.
"Since always.“ His voice was quieter than he intended, surprising even himself with its rawness.
But then she yanked her wrist free with a sharp, deliberate motion that sent him stumbling a step forward. She stood her ground, meeting his gaze with unwavering defiance.
“You should have shown it long ago.”
Her words struck harder than he expected, leaving a cold ache in his chest. He wanted to say something, to stop her, but before he could react, she turned away.
For a fleeting moment, she glanced back at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable, before walking resolutely toward that bastard.
Frustration and anger flared within him, a helplessness that made it hard to breathe.
How much clearer could he be?
Did she really not see that every move he made for her made him feel like a fool?
_________ _
Evin
E vin carefully slipped out of bed, her heart still pounding from the past hour. Sergej’s breathing was steady as he slept deeply. Silently, she gathered her clothes, piece by piece, careful not to make any noise.