Chapter 39

thirty-nine

-Serena-

Two days later

I’m trying to pick an outfit for the club tonight.

It can’t be too revealing because I’d never hear the end of it from Set.

But I can’t show up looking like I’m two days from retirement either.

So, I pick a peach sequin skirt and a black top.

I don’t want to overdo it, but the fashionista in me refuses to let me walk in anything less than fabulous.

I agreed to go to one of Set’s clubs as long as he stays away. I just hope he keeps his promise.

Monica came this morning, and I already let her know that I was giving her a room here, but I only told her about the suite when she arrived.

She screamed so loud the whole hotel probably heard her, then jumped on the bed for almost half an hour before I let her unpack and rest a little since it’s been a long drive.

Plus, I took the time to surprise Set in his office with a very special lunch break that ended with both our clothes on the floor.

That should keep him satisfied for the day—enough so he won’t grumble too much when he sees me head out tonight.

I then let him get back to his business and I take Monica for coffee—that’s an excuse for cocktails at the hotel's downstairs café. And yes, it’s the same one I got kidnapped from, but it’s still my favorite café. Besides, with Chen out of the picture, I figure I’m safe.

“So, tell me about the demigod you just bagged,” Monica says, dropping into her chair the second her cocktail arrives.

Demigod, what a strange, but accurate choice of words. I can’t hold back a smile. “I didn’t even get the chance to introduce you to Set. How do you know about him?”

“People treat you like royalty here. I saw the waitress nearly having a panic attack because she had to serve you. Plus, I read the papers, and you were seen with the hottest bachelor around, who happens to own this exact hotel. I’m smart enough to figure out the rest.” She grins, pretty proud of her amateur PI work.

“I guess you got me there. But there’s not much to say.” At least nothing much that I can tell her anyway. “We met in Vegas and have been together ever since,” minus the months I ran off, but that’d just raise more questions.

“What about the other guy you were with? Nick, I think.”

Hearing his name still unsettles me, but I’ve finally come to understand why he’s dead. It was because one way or the other, he would’ve eventually brought my own death.

I try to smile again, even though it doesn’t come right.

I feel the corner of my lips twitch in a strange, involuntary way.

And I tell her part of the truth. “He cheated on me. Now he’s gone from my life.

” Of course, I don’t explain what gone really means.

I still don’t think he deserved to die. But he didn’t deserve to live with me either.

I realize I’m so much stronger than I was before I met Set, how making decisions has become much easier to me, and how much I’ve truly evolved.

“Girl, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.

To be honest, I never liked the guy. Never trusted him, and he sure as hell wasn’t worthy of you.

While this man? Let me applaud you for a second.

” She claps dramatically, applauding me, and we both burst into laughter.

“But I have to ask. Does he have any brothers?”

I blink at her, a little dumbfounded. I know she’s asking just for fun, but she wouldn’t really like to meet his brothers. Or maybe she would because she’s as crazy as Whiro at times. But that would be a straight-up catastrophe. And I can’t have her on my conscience.

I dodge her question with another cocktail.

That’s kind of my thing—deflect with alcohol.

Which naturally leads to a lot of cocktails.

But we cut ourselves off before we get too drunk.

We’ve still got a club to go to, and we have to get there sober—or at least close.

But most importantly, I’ve got to go back to the apartment to change while still sober, or I might end up grounded.

Come to think of it, that might actually be fun. But that’s just the alcohol talking, and I did promise Monica I’d take her out. Besides, Set would never let me leave if he saw me like this. So I order a strong coffee before I get back to the penthouse to change.

And if I’m still giggling with Monica as we share the elevator to her suite, I snap out of it the second I walk into the penthouse and see Set.

He’s sifting through some files spread out across the kitchen island.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, eyeing the photos of several men.

“Yeah, just work. You know…”

“Keeping the balance,” I say, completing his sentence.

“You're home early,” he notes, since I told him I’d probably spend the day with Monica and head straight to the club with her after.

“Well, I came here to spend an extra hour with you, then change and head out,” I say, wrapping my arms around him, just in case I need to defuse something—such as Set the ticking time bomb.

But he’s unusually calm to start with. “Are you hungry?” I have to ask, mostly because we kind of skipped lunch.

And I’m starving after all of those cocktails.

“Is that even a question?” he smirks, then kisses me in a way that would lead to something else than dinner.

“For food, Set,” I quickly break the kiss before it escalates, and go to the fridge to make us some turkey sandwiches.

I leave him with his files, planning to head to our bedroom right after we eat and take my time getting ready.

But, as usual, between doing my hair, makeup, and changing through twenty outfits only to land the one I already picked, time flies by really quickly.

I hope Set won’t be too mad about the mess I left behind.

But I don’t have time to fix it. Besides, he’s the one who moved most of my things into his bedroom, so this disaster is also on him.

Just as I’m about to walk out the door, he enters the bedroom, heading straight into the walk-in closet.

I stop for a moment, trying to tell what he’s doing, and realize he’s changing clothes. He comes out wearing a pair of black jeans and a stylish black T-shirt. Everything looks stylish on him, but damn, tonight he’s astonishing.

I look at him from head to toe, debating whether to ask or just let it go. But I can help myself. “Are you going out somewhere?”

“Whiro’s in town. We’re grabbing drinks at The Burnout.”

I can’t explain the relief of hearing he’s going to the opposite side of town from where I’m headed. That means he’s at peace with the idea of giving me space. I don’t really need space in general—not from him, anyway. But I do need a girls' night out.

“Have fun,” I say, giving him a last kiss before rushing out the door to pick up Monica.

Let’s just say he doesn’t look thrilled, but there’s not much he can do about it. It’s only for a few hours, anyway.

I knock on Monica’s door and let the party begin.

A limousine takes us to The Inferna—one of Set’s clubs, which figures, considering the name—and Monica makes the driver circle a few extra times before parking so she can fully soak in the Vegas nightlife.

She even sticks her head out of the sunroof, but doesn’t stay too long because it’ll mess up her hair.

She’s always been so nice to me, back when I worked at the gas station, so I find it comforting to be able to give something back for a change. Plus, I’m covering all the drinks tonight since I still owe her for taking me out last time.

We arrive at The Inferna, and the place is packed.

I was here once before with Set a week or so ago, but that was just to check in on things and play boss.

Tonight’s different. I’m not holed up in the back office, I’m at a VIP table, one hour away from watching Drake perform.

There’s a concert tonight. But until then, the DJ here is out of this world.

Everyone’s dancing, and the atmosphere actually takes me back to when I used to hit the clubs with Michael and our crew.

That leaves a sting in my soul, which I try to burn away with a shot of something fiery.

And then another shot of something called Brain Freeze—which actually freezes my brain for a few moments.

It’s enough to get me into the dancing mood, and since Monica’s always in party mode, our heels are in real danger of snapping soon.

A few more cocktails flow, plus a few extra shots.

I’m not overdoing it, but Monica definitely is.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’re having a blast, and the concert literally leaves my feet bleeding and my voice raw.

I can get full crazy around her, and still not even come close to her level.

A couple of guys who’ve been eyeing us all night come over, and Monica seems to be getting extra friendly with one of them.

But I’m not here to hook up with someone, so I don’t want to dance with any guy.

Besides, my thing with Set is pretty public around here, just as Monica pointed out, and I really don’t need some paparazzo snapping a pic that could make Set turn into the Incredible Hulk again.

I’m just here to have fun with my friend. Period. Set doesn’t like dancing. Well, he does actually like dancing—just not the kind that keeps his hands to himself. Two minutes in, we’re usually in a bedroom—or anywhere else with him inside me.

Yeah, definitely not the time or place for that.

I excuse myself, make it clear I’m in no way interested, then head back to our table.

I have the feeling the night out’s about to end soon anyway.

Monica threw out some pretty obscene signals—which I’m almost sure the guy she’s with picked up on—so probably her night’s going to go out with a bang.

I was kind of expecting that from her, and I am almost partied out.

It’s almost 3 a.m. anyway. I just noticed the time since I started scrolling through my phone.

I’ll give her another hour, just to see if she’s really set on leaving with him.

I’m not in the mood to dance alone, and my feet are killing me, so I just watch the crowd.

I used to do that a lot—just watch people and imagine how they live their lives.

Trying to guess if they’re happy—probably because I wasn’t.

Now it’s different. I look at them because it feels like they live in a whole different world than I do.

I take another sip of the drink, my body’s slowly swaying to the music, even though I’m still on the couch—until something grabs my attention.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

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