"It's just a shot!" I shouted angrily at Mr. Bryan, one of my escorts, my voice barely rising above the thundering music. That only irritated me further—I loved it when I yelled and my voice was the only thing I could hear.
I was in a club I barely knew—Feyrol or something—trying to get drunk and forget my problems, but this damn man wouldn't even let me.
"Miss," Mr. Bryan stuttered, "the Madam won't be pleased."
"Damn it," I grimaced. "When have I ever cared about that?"
"But I'm the one who will get fired," he muttered, though I heard him clearly.
I smiled at him, but he shuddered. "Mr., you don't have to worry about your job. Just trust me; I'll take care of it."
He shook his head violently. "No more shots, Miss."
I frowned; his attitude just got worse. "I told you, I'll take care of it."
Mr. Bryan held his breath before releasing it all at once. "That's what you told Jake before he got fired. But you never even asked about him."
My frown deepened. "Who's Jake?"
"So, no more shots?" the brown-haired, Asian-looking bartender asked, his eyebrows raised inquisitively at me.
I waved him off, now clearly irritated. "Forget it."
Mr. Bryan shrank back under my glare, but then he raised his eyes to meet mine courageously. Great, now even my escorts were starting to grow a backbone.
Clicking my tongue in annoyance, I turned my eyes to the dance floor. People way older than me danced and flirted under the dim lights, their voices raised as they sang along with the DJ in total ecstasy.
I wasn't supposed to be here—I was underage, of course. But what can I say? Everybody has their price, especially the doorman. The only reason I chose a club was to clear my head with the music and vibe, and getting drunk was supposed to be an integral part of that plan.
But now I didn't even have the right to do that!
"You don't look like you're having fun," a calm, deep voice said, and I turned in surprise to find someone leaning on the counter beside me. I couldn't see his face because it was turned away, almost as if on purpose.
I glanced at Mr. Bryan and the half-dozen guards surrounding me, growing even more annoyed. Were they so bad at their jobs that they let a stranger walk up to me like that?
Thinking clearly now—that voice... I raised my brow.
"This doesn't seem like a place someone like you should be," the voice continued.
I pouted, turning my face away. "Stop with that tone, Luke. I know it's you."
Luke laughed. "I guess you know me too well. I thought I could keep up the stranger persona a bit longer."
I scoffed. "Good luck with that. You've always sucked at acting."
"But you fell for it at first, didn't you?"
"Having you pop out of nowhere in a club I barely know, all the way in Singapore, isn't exactly something I'd catch on to immediately."
"Fair point," Luke replied, sighing. "You're mad at me."
I tilted my head slightly. "Why do you think so?"
"Your voice," he said. "It's cold. That's something you only do when you're mad. What did this idiot do wrong this time?"
I wanted to deny it, but I knew it was useless. The fact that I could study Luke like a book didn't make me immune to him too.
I glanced around, relieved to see Mr. Bryan and security had taken a few steps back to give us privacy.
"I'm not mad at you," I said. "I'm just angry that you guys keep stuff from me. And if I ask anything along the lines of why Aisha gets beaten up for no reason, you just redirect the topic and make a fool out of me."
Luke narrowed his eyes at me, and I felt he was about to say something serious. "Then don't ask. Let's not give you a reason to get mad at me."
I clenched my fist. This idiot. "How's that supposed to make me feel better?"
Luke raised his brow. "It's... reassuring."
I stomped my feet in frustration. "Stop treating me like a child! You're just a year older!"
"I'm not—"
"Just stop, okay?" I cut him off. "I get it. I'm not as close to you four as you are to each other. I'm just a loose pair."
"Don't say that," Luke growled, his voice sharp. Whatever I said must've struck a nerve.
I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Giving him a weak smile, I said, "But there are things only you four know that I don't, aren't there?"
Luke's grimace deepened. "Then those things won't do you any good if you know them."
"So you admit it?"
"Oh, damn right I admit it," Luke said, irritated. He sat on the bar stool beside me, crossing his legs, his frown still intact. "But you already know that, don't you?"
I sighed. Gosh, how many times had I sighed today? "Forget it." I turned to the bartender, thinking maybe I could steal a shot now that Bryan wasn't hovering.
"I'm sorry," Luke said softly. His forlorn expression made something in my chest tighten. "It isn't easy for me too, you know—keeping things from you."
I smiled at him. Sad Luke was more charming than happy Luke, though he didn't need to know that. I doubted he'd be thrilled to learn I preferred him sad. That wasn't something a normal friend would want. Then again, I wasn't normal.
I stood up and walked toward him, sliding my hands around his neck and settling on his lap. His scent wrapped around me—one of my very few addictions. Gripping his woolen sweater with both hands, I buried my face in his chest, letting a comfortable warmth wash over me.
"Hey, idiot," I murmured.
Luke looked down at me with a smile, brushing my hair behind my ear and tracing my cheek with his thumb. "What's it, sweetie?"
I swallowed hard, fighting the lump in my throat. The tears I'd been holding back were threatening to spill. "Promise me—whatever this is all about, you guys won't keep me in the dark for too long."
Luke took my hand, holding my fingers gently as his gaze locked with mine. "I promise you, Ada Storm," he said, his voice soft, almost like a whisper. "One day, you'll know everything about us—all the things we've kept from you."
I smiled. Luke always kept his promises.
"Little girl, come and dance with me," he teased.
I scowled, punching him lightly in the chest. "Who's little? I've told you—you're just a year older."
Luke grinned, his cute smile making my heart flutter in a way I hated admitting. "Little girl, come and dance with me," he repeated.
The words "little girl" snapped me out of whatever trance I'd fallen into, and I punched him again, harder this time.
"So, you didn't learn your lesson the last time, huh?" I growled.
"Has my charm lost its hold on you?" Luke asked, feigning hurt as he rubbed his chest.
I rolled my eyes. "It stopped working eight years ago, idiot."
He groaned dramatically. "I call bullshit. We were just kids back then. My handsomeness should have left you defenseless by now."
"Stop overestimating yourself," I said, rolling my eyes again.
Luke flicked my nose lightly, making me frown.
"What was that for?" I asked, rubbing my nose.
"Just felt like it," he said with a cheeky smile before standing and grabbing my hand. Without waiting for permission, the jerk dragged me toward the dance floor.
At first, I didn't want to dance—I was stubborn like that. But with Luke, my resolve never lasted.
He started with goofy moves, making silly dances around me until I couldn't help but laugh. Then he nudged my shoulders repeatedly, his energy infectious. Before I knew it, I was dancing too, following his lead and moving to the beat of the music.
From that point, things got crazy. I let go of everything—Dad's investigation, Aisha's injuries, all of it blurred in the haze of lights and sound. For those few hours, I lost myself in the moment, feeling a happiness I hadn't experienced in a long time.
---
The night dragged on, but the fun ended all too quickly. Even in Singapore, I still had a curfew to observe.
Luke and I left the club together, his arm draped lazily around my shoulders and mine wrapped snugly around his waist. My head rested against his chest, savoring the faint scent of him. Call me weird, but I never claimed I wasn't.
Luke's phone buzzed, pulling him from our moment.
He pulled it out of his pocket, and his expression shifted from surprise to confusion, then to something more serious.
I stopped walking, turning to face him. "What's the matter?"
Luke held me close, leaning down to whisper in my ear. "Obinna told me something you might not want to hear."
My heart raced. Luke was waiting for my permission, but not wanting to hear it didn't mean I had a choice to avoid it.
"What did he say?" I asked, gripping his waist tighter.
"It's from Matthew," Luke said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant. "The forensic scans are out. They're saying it's original. Many countries are agitating to get your dad arrested—it's turning into a bloody war. The Storms may not be able to handle the pressure."
"I see," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. Slowly, I released my hold on Luke and stepped back. "Well, they can try," I said, the idea of anyone daring to demand my father infuriating me. "They've gone mad if they think the Storms will hand over one of their own. I know my family—we'd rather all die than do that."
"The innate Storm pride, right?" Luke said, grinning despite the gravity of the situation.
I smiled faintly. "I need to go home, Luke. Since the information is still confidential, I should get to safety before it blows out of proportion. I'll head to the beach house to get Aisha."
"Be careful," Luke said, his tone suddenly serious.
I nodded, giving him one last smile before walking away. My security detail closed ranks around me, cutting him from view.
As I settled into my Cadillac Escalade armored vehicle, I couldn't help but smirk.
The Storms against the whole world, huh?
I wonder how this game will turn out.