Lucia's laughter rang out across the packed nightclub, mingling with the heavy bassline pounding through the speakers. This wasn't her usual scene, but tonight, she was determined to drown out her frustrations. The club was a renowned hotspot in London, where only the elite gathered to revel in luxury and excess.
Lucia sat at a corner booth, nursing a cocktail that shimmered under the neon lights. Her best friend, Mattias, sat next to her, his sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd. Across from him, Celine sipped her drink with unbridled enthusiasm.
"Lucia, stop sulking," Celine teased, nudging her. "We're here to have fun, not to sit and brood over your... situation."
Lucia arched a brow. "Situation? You mean my sham of a marriage?"
Celine rolled her eyes. "Call it whatever you want. But tonight, you're not Mrs. Sterling. You're just Lucia Scott, my reckless partner-in-crime. Now, let's hit the dance floor!"
Mattias groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Someone has to keep you two in check," he muttered.
"Suit yourself, killjoy!" Celine shot back before dragging Lucia to the crowded dance floor.
At first, Lucia hesitated, moving stiffly to the music. But as the alcohol coursed through her veins and the rhythm of the beat consumed her, she let go. Her movements became fluid, her inhibitions fading away. For once, she didn't care about the whispers, the headlines, or the consequences.
It wasn't long before a tall, striking man approached her. He was confident and charismatic, with an easy smile that could melt hearts. But to Lucia, he was just a distraction. Her mind flickered briefly to Malcolm, and she scowled. Why was she even thinking about him?
"Care to dance?" the man asked, his voice smooth and inviting.
Lucia smirked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why not?"
As they danced, the stranger's hands found her waist, pulling her closer. Their bodies moved in sync, and his touch grew bolder with each passing moment. The alcohol emboldened her, and she didn't shy away. Instead, she leaned into him, her laughter loud and uninhibited.
"You're stunning," he murmured, his lips dangerously close to her ear.
Lucia chuckled, her head tilted back in defiance. "You're not bad yourself."
She knew this was reckless, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Malcolm was probably with Stephanie, tending to her like the love-struck fool he was. Why should she hold back when he didn't?
But her moment of rebellion was short-lived.
"Lucia!"
Mattias's voice cut through the music like a whip. He stormed onto the dance floor, his face a mask of fury. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the stranger.
"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.
Lucia blinked, her vision swimming. "Mattias, let go! You're embarrassing me!"
"You're embarrassing yourself," he snapped, glaring at the man. "You think it's okay to take advantage of a drunk woman?"
The stranger raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, she came to me."
"Save it," Mattias growled, pulling Lucia toward the exit.
Lucia stumbled but managed to slip her business card into the stranger's hand before being dragged away. "Call me!" she called over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss.
"Unbelievable," Mattias muttered under his breath, his grip firm as they left the club.
---
Back in the car, Celine was already complaining.
"Why'd you have to ruin the fun?" she whined, crossing her arms. "We were just getting started!"
Mattias's knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. "You call that fun? Lucia nearly got herself into serious trouble!"
Celine scoffed. "Oh, come on. She's a grown woman. Let her live a little."
"She's married," Mattias snapped.
Celine leaned forward, her expression defiant. "To a man who doesn't love her. Why should she pretend to be the perfect wife when her husband's out chasing after his ex?"
Lucia winced at the truth in Celine's words. She stared out the window, the city lights blurring as Mattias sped through the streets.
"Celine, stop encouraging her," Mattias said through gritted teeth.
"She deserves to be happy," Celine retorted. "If Malcolm can have a lover, so can she. Fair is fair."
Mattias shook his head, knowing this argument was a losing battle. "You're staying at my place tonight," Celine announced, glancing at Lucia.
Lucia nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "Thanks."
---
Meanwhile, at the Sterling mansion, Malcolm's fury was reaching a boiling point. He had spent the evening with Stephanie, tending to her as guilt and love warred within him. But when he returned home to find Lucia still absent, his anger ignited.
"Find her," he barked at Morgan.
Morgan returned within the hour, his expression grim. "I have something you need to see."
He handed Malcolm a tablet, and the video that played made his blood run cold.
It was Lucia, grinding on a stranger in the middle of a nightclub. Her outfit, barely more than scraps of fabric, left little to the imagination. The explicit nature of her movements, the way she laughed and leaned into the man—it was all too much.
Malcolm's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.
"She's doing this on purpose," he muttered, his voice dangerously low. "She's trying to provoke me."
Even if their marriage was a sham, there were limits. This level of recklessness could not be ignored.
"Bring her home," he ordered, his tone cold and unyielding. "Now."
Morgan nodded and left, leaving Malcolm alone with his thoughts. His anger simmered, threatening to explode.