Chapter 29 #2
His hands began to wander more boldly, tracing the curve of my hips, sliding along the small of my back, and teasing the sides of my torso.
Every shift of his body pressed me closer, every movement timed perfectly to the beat, driving the tension higher.
I could feel his thigh brushing against my core and I let out a little shiver.
“If we aren’t careful, I will have to take you in the back,” he murmured into my ear, his breath warm and deliberate.
My heart was racing, my skin flushed, and my pulse thrumming in time with the music. “And if you did,” I whispered back, “What then?”
“I could probably get us a private room,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he spoke. The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel the heat pooling lower, the press of his body against mine suddenly sharper, more deliberate.
I bit my lip, half in anticipation, half in disbelief at how much I was already craving him, the idea of being alone with him igniting a dangerous mix of excitement and restraint.
The music around us pulsed like a second heartbeat, each beat syncing with the racing of my own, as if the club itself was conspiring to heighten the tension.
I swallowed, heat pooling low, and finally let the words slip out, breathless but decisive. “Let’s go,” I said, gripping his hand a little tighter.
Felix was torn. Every fiber of him ached to claim me, to pull me into the shadows and give in to the hunger that had been building all night—but the thought of taking me to the darkness of the back rooms, to the world of unrestrained indulgence and danger, made him hesitate.
I grabbed his hand and led us off the dance floor, weaving through the throng of bodies, lights flashing around us. My heart was racing, and for a brief moment, I realized I had no idea which way we were actually going.
Felix took the lead, guiding us through the crowd with a quiet confidence that left no room for hesitation. We had to cut through the area with the poker tables, the clatter of chips and low murmur of wagers filling the air.
My gaze had been fixed on Felix, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught a very familiar figure. Older, raggedy, and definitely out of place amid the sleek, dangerous energy of Eclipse—my dad.
He was sitting at one of the poker tables, hunched over a stack of chips with a confused, almost desperate look.
His hands fumbled as he tried to hold his cards, and every few seconds he glanced nervously at the other players, who were clearly experienced and far more confident.
The pile of chips in front of him wasn’t growing—it was slowly dwindling, sliding toward the more seasoned gamblers with each round.
My stomach lurched and I stopped walking. He was supposed to be trying to make money to earn me back, to “save me” from the mafia man who had kidnapped me. Instead, he was slouched over the poker table, utterly out of his depth.
“I…” I said aloud, to no one in particular, my voice barely above a whisper.
The words faltered, lost somewhere between disbelief and frustration.
How had he ended up here, in a place so far from the plan I had trusted him to follow?
My chest tightened, a mix of dread, anger, and helplessness constricting me.
“Should I kick him out?” Felix asked. His eyes stayed locked on my father, reading every twitch, every faltering movement at the poker table.
“What’s the point?” I whispered, torn between anger and disbelief. “He’s just going to come back. He was never going to…” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. “I want to go home.”
My need for Felix had been completely extinguished by the sight of my father.
Every flicker of desire, every pulse of heat that had been building between us just moments ago, vanished, replaced by disbelief and a gnawing frustration.
How could he be here, so recklessly, when he was supposed to be doing everything to earn me back?
When Felix first took me, all I did was miss my father and want to go back to my old life.
The life where I worked six days a week at a shitty cafe, took care of his drunk ass, and said nothing when he stole my money.
That life had been exhausting, soul-crushing even, but it had been familiar. Safe in its own twisted way.
And seeing him here, getting himself deeper into debt instead of actually trying to earn me back, felt like the biggest betrayal. My chest tightened, hot anger coiling with a bitter disappointment I hadn’t expected to feel.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from him, away from the chaos he had stumbled into. Felix’s hand remained firm in mine, a steadying presence I didn’t even realize I needed until that moment.
“Come on,” he murmured, guiding me away from the poker tables and the mess my father had made of himself. I let him lead, the pulse of the club fading behind us as we pushed through the crowd and out into the night.
The air outside felt like a balm, cool and quiet compared to the heat and chaos of Eclipse. I leaned into Felix slightly, letting the tension of the night and the sting of betrayal ebb just enough to make the journey home bearable.
By the time we reached the brownstone, I was exhausted, my emotions frayed and raw. Felix opened the door and let me slip inside first, closing it behind us with a soft click that felt almost like a promise of safety.
I exhaled, sinking against the wall, letting the quiet envelop me. Outside, the world could burn, the chaos could rage—but here, at least for now, I was home.
Although by definition, I was still a prisoner.