Hope’s Pov

We had been shopping for four hours, and yet she still wasn't satisfied with the mountain of dresses she had already picked out. My feet ached, my stomach grumbled, and my patience wore thin. But then she emerged from the fitting room in a one-shoulder white dress that hugged her curves like it had been custom-made for her. The way the fabric cinched at her waist and fell effortlessly to her knees—damn, she looked amazing. Sexy, even.

 "So, how do I look?" she asked, spinning around with a playful glint in her eyes.

 I gave her a slow once-over, taking in every inch of her glowing confidence. "You look incredible," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite my growing hunger. It was true. She looked breathtaking. Even though I was tired, she had turned heads.

 She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of my sincerity. "You sure you're not just saying that because you're tired of waiting?"

 I rolled my eyes but smiled. "Okay, I am tired, and definitely starving, but you look seriously good. What's the occasion?"

 Her grin turned mischievous. "I'm taking you to a club tonight. My brother and his two best friends are meeting us there. Oh, and one of them just happens to be my soulmate."

 I blinked at her. "Wait, what? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've looked for a dress too!"

 "Relax," she said, tossing me a garment bag with a wink. "I've got you covered."

 I unzipped the bag, revealing a stunning backless white dress. The fabric was smooth, elegant, with long sleeves that added a touch of class. But it was daring too—just enough skin to turn heads, but not enough to make me uncomfortable.

 "If this dress is too revealing, I'm not wearing it," I warned.

 She waved me off. "Go get changed unless you want me to dress you up myself."

 I stuck my tongue out at her but couldn't hide my amusement as I stepped into the changing room. The dress slid on easily, hugging my figure in all the right places. When I stepped out, Mya gave me a look that made me feel like a runway model.

 "Perfect," she said with a smirk. "Let's pay and get out of here. I'm starving too."

 We changed back into our clothes and headed for the cashier. Mya insisted on paying for both dresses, despite my half-hearted protests. My stomach growled loudly, cutting off any further argument.

 "That's our cue," Mya laughed. She flagged down the chauffeur as we left the store.

 "Where to, Mrs. Anderson?" the driver asked as we slid into the backseat.

 "The restaurant, please," she answered.

 Once we were on the road, I turned to her, narrowing my eyes. "So… spill. You never talk about this boyfriend of yours. What's the deal?"

 She smirked. "Well, his name is Kennedy Cohen. He's the love of my life—tall, handsome, smart, and he fucks me brainless."

 I burst out laughing, shaking my head. Of course, she'd say something like that. "That's definitely you, Anderson," I chuckled.

 As we arrived at the restaurant, we continued our banter, laughing and toasting over drinks. But then, out of nowhere, she hit me with the question I had been dreading: "What really happened that night?"

 I stiffened, the smile slipping from my face. I had never told her the full story, only that it was over. But that night still haunted me. I had called her, sobbing on the other end of the line, unable to speak. Now, with her gaze locked on mine, I felt the weight of that moment crash down on me again.

 "Well," I started, my voice cracking as I fought to hold back tears, "it was supposed to be our third year anniversary. I wore the dress he loved, the one I saved for this night. I waited at the restaurant for hours, watching the candles flicker as the minutes dragged by. Every call went straight to voicemail, each ring a knife twisting in my gut."

 I took a shaky breath, my hands trembling. "I panicked, fearing the worst. I raced to his place, praying for an accident, something—anything—other than this. When I got there…"

 The tears came freely now, choking my words. "I found him… with Brittany. In bed. Their bodies entwined, the sight of them together was like a knife slicing through every dream I had. I stood there, frozen, as the laughter they shared cut through me with a brutal finality. Everything we built together collapsed in that moment, leaving nothing but the hollow echo of betrayal."

 Mya's face softened, and she got up from her chair to wrap me in a hug. "He's not worth your tears, Hope," she whispered, but the words felt hollow. Even if he wasn't worth it, the hurt still stung.

 By the time we left the restaurant, I felt lighter, though not completely free of the memories. We climbed back into the car, chatting idly about life, trying to catch up on the things we'd missed. But I could sense that Mya was holding something back, and I didn't want to push her.

 Just as I was slipping back into my thoughts, a deafening crash shattered the silence. The sharp sound of glass exploding was immediately followed by the high-pitched scream of tires. My heart lurched into my throat as I spun around to see a motorbike lying in a crumpled heap on the road, while a truck skidded to a stop just inches away.

 "Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked, already scrambling to open the door.

 Mya handed it to me without hesitation, and I rushed out, shouting over my shoulder for her to follow. The motorcycle lay twisted on the pavement, pinning the rider beneath its weight. Blood oozed from the man's chest, and his face was contorted in pain.

 "Sir, help me lift the bike!" I called. The chauffeur hurried over, lifting the motorcycle with a strength that surprised me.

 Once the bike was off, I knelt beside the rider, assessing his injuries. A jagged piece of metal was lodged in his chest, dangerously close to his heart but not yet fatal. His breathing was ragged, but steady.

 "Where does it hurt the most?" I asked, pulling out my stethoscope. His heartbeat was strong, considering what he had just been through.

 "My chest," he groaned, wincing. "And my leg. Feels like my head's been split open too."

 I quickly examined him, my hands moving on autopilot. His chest wound was severe, but the bleeding wasn't uncontrollable. I pulled out the metal shard with as much care as I could manage, cleaning the wound and wrapping it tightly with bandages. His leg was fractured but not critical. I treated that next before tending to the cut on his forehead.

 "Mya, get me some water!" I called out as I rummaged through the kit for painkillers.

 She rushed back, handing me the bottle just as I helped the man sit up enough to swallow the tablets. The sound of sirens blared in the distance, and I let out a breath of relief. The paramedics would take it from here.

 "Thank you," the rider whispered as I stood up.

 I shook my head. "Just doing my job."

 Back in the car, Mya looked at me in awe. "You were incredible back there. You could've saved his life."

 I shrugged it off, my mind already shifting back to the evening ahead. "Let's just get ready for the club."

 We arrived back at the penthouse, both of us exhausted but still buzzing with the anticipation of the night ahead. It had been far too long since I'd last been to a club. The music, the energy, the chance to forget everything for a few hours—it sounded perfect.

 Without wasting time, I rushed to my room. Once the door closed behind me, I peeled off my shirt and pants, discarding my undergarments as I made my way to the bathroom. The warm water of the shower hit my skin, instantly soothing my tension. I closed my eyes, letting the water cascade over me, washing away the remnants of the day—the stress, the memories, the pain. I scrubbed my body with slow, deliberate motions, cleansing myself of everything that had weighed me down. This was supposed to be a night of fun, not a night to wallow in the past.

 After thirty minutes, I emerged from the shower feeling refreshed. I wrapped a towel around myself and headed to Mya's room. She was already dressed, standing in front of a mirror applying her makeup. She glanced at me through the reflection and smiled.

 "You ready?" I asked, pulling on the dress she had chosen for me earlier.

 "Yep," she said, her voice light. "You?"

 "As ready as I'll ever be." I gave her a small smile before heading back to my room to finish up. I slipped into the white backless dress, adjusting the fabric until it fit just right. The silky material clung to my body in all the right ways, accentuating my curves while keeping things elegant. I left my hair loose, the waves cascading over my shoulders. One last touch of lip gloss, and I was done.

 When I rejoined Mya in the living room, she grinned. "Damn, Hope. You're going to turn heads tonight."

 I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't help the small thrill her words sent through me. "Let's just get through this without any drama, okay?"

 She laughed. "No promises."

 The club was unlike any I had ever seen before. A massive, sleek building with floor-to-ceiling windows and modern architecture. The VIP entrance was a secluded side door, guarded by two bouncers who greeted us with curt nods as we walked inside. The music hit me instantly, the deep bass vibrating through the floor, the pulse of it syncing with my heartbeat. Neon lights flickered across the dance floor, illuminating the crowd in bursts of color.

 "Hey, babe, you're here!" A voice called out, snapping me out of my daze.

 I turned just in time to see a tall, dark-haired man with sharp features and a charismatic smile pull Mya into a soft kiss. She smiled up at him like he was her entire world.

 Kennedy. Of course. The infamous soulmate.

 "Don't be so jealous, Hope," Mya teased, glancing at me over her shoulder.

 I rolled my eyes. "Jealous? Please."

 She laughed, and Kennedy turned his attention to me, offering a hand. "You must be Hope. Mya talks about you all the time."

"All good things, I hope," I replied, shaking his hand.

 "Nothing but the best," he said with a grin. "Come on, the others are over at the bar."

 I followed them to the table where two men were waiting. The first, Lionel, was impossibly good-looking, with tousled blond hair, sharp cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes that could've been plucked from a model catalog. His muscles were prominent even through his shirt, and I had to stop myself from staring too long.

 He stood up as we approached, extending a hand. "Hello, I'm Lionel. You must be Hope?"

 "Yeah, nice to meet you," I said, trying not to let my gaze linger on his biceps for too long.

 Kennedy pulled out a chair for Mya while Lionel gestured for me to sit next to him. As I settled into my seat, Kennedy leaned forward with a devilish grin. "Alright, we're playing truth or shot. Lionel, you start."

 Lionel smirked, resting his arms on the table. His gaze flickered over to me. "Alright, Hope. Has anyone ever gone down on you?"

 I nearly choked on my drink. Of course they would start with something embarrassing. I considered taking the shot, but if I started now, I'd be drunk halfway through the game. And that was not a good look for my first time meeting these people.

 "No," I answered quietly, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "How would a guy go down on me if I've never even had sex?"

 Silence fell over the table as everyone stared at me. I could see the unspoken questions in their eyes, but thankfully, no one voiced them.

 I cleared my throat, eager to shift the focus. "Okay, Kennedy. When was the last time you cried?"

 He leaned back in his chair, his smile fading into something sadder. "It was years ago, when my parents were killed in an attack."

 The weight of his answer hit me like a punch to the gut. I hadn't expected something so heavy, and I regretted asking. I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I could, he smiled softly at me.

 "It's okay," he said. "I've learned to live with it."

 I nodded, unsure of what to say. Luckily, Kennedy turned to Mya with a mischievous grin. "So, babe, what's your favorite part of my body?"

 Mya nearly spit out her drink, her face turning a deep shade of red. I smirked, already knowing what she was thinking. She hesitated for a moment before shaking her head and taking a shot instead.

 "Sorry, guys. That's staying a secret," she said with a wink.

 "Oh, come on," I teased, nudging her. "It can't be that bad."

 "Fuck you, Hope," she shot back, but there was no heat in her words. We both laughed as Kennedy and Lionel joined in.

 "Anytime, hun," I said with a smirk. "You know where my bedroom is."

 Lionel turned to Mya with a raised eyebrow. "Is this a regular thing with you two?"

 Mya groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Don't encourage her."

 Kennedy chuckled before turning to Lionel. "Alright, your turn. Got any spicy pictures or videos saved on your phone?"

 Lionel flashed a sly smile, and a faint blush crept up his neck. "Yes."

 "Wow, really?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Whose are they?"

 He didn't answer, just looked away with a faint smirk. Before I could press further, the conversation seemed to drift into silence. Everyone suddenly zoned out, their eyes distant, as if they were lost in some other realm. I waved my hand in front of Mya's face, but she didn't react. Neither did Lionel or Kennedy.

 "Guys?" I asked, growing uneasy. Still, no response.

 Just as quickly as they had zoned out, they snapped back to attention. Lionel flashed me a grin as if nothing had happened. Mya shook her head and muttered something under her breath, and Kennedy started ordering more shots.

 "What the hell just happened?" I asked, confused.

 Mya placed a hand on my arm. "Hope, please don't ask. Not now."

 I furrowed my brow, unsure of what to make of it, but I let it go. "Fine," I muttered, grabbing another shot. I wasn't planning on getting drunk tonight, but after that weird moment, I figured I could use the distraction.

 Two more shots later, Dua Lipa's "Physical" started blaring through the speakers, and Mya grabbed my hand, dragging me onto the dance floor. We danced for a solid two minutes before the music shifted into something slower, and I felt someone come up behind me.

 Lionel.

 His hands found my waist, pulling me close as we swayed to the rhythm of the music. I could feel the tension in his body, his grip tightening as I moved against him. It felt like a challenge—a game of who could tease the other more.

 I rolled my hips to the left, then to the right, grinding against him just enough to make him curse softly in my ear. His breath was hot against my neck, and I could feel the heat building between us. I turned around slowly, facing him, my arms sliding up to drape around his neck. His eyes were dark, filled with desire, and for a moment, I thought I saw them flash gold, only to return to their usual piercing blue. Was it just the lights?

 Before I could overthink it, his lips were on my neck, soft at first but quickly growing more intense. The feel of his lips against my skin sent shivers down my spine. I bit my lower lip to stifle a moan, my mind going hazy as his mouth moved lower, his teeth grazing my collarbone.

 Just as I was about to lose myself completely, his lips found mine. The kiss was slow but demanding, his mouth coaxing mine to respond in kind. I couldn't help but give in. Our lips moved in sync, the world fading around us as his hands slid down to my waist, then lower, gripping my ass with just enough force to make my breath hitch.

 This was dangerous. I needed to stop.

 I pulled away from him, running my hands down his chest before stepping back. He looked at me with a mixture of frustration and amusement, but I only gave him an innocent smile.

 "I need a drink," I said, slipping away from the dance floor and heading toward the bar.

 I wasn't planning on getting wasted tonight, but the strange events earlier and Lionel's heated kiss left me feeling more confused than ever. I needed clarity, and right now, that meant escaping into a haze of alcohol.