Chapter 22

TWENTY-TWO

Sabella

The queue for the nightclub stretches all the way to the bar next to the slot machines. We skip the line and head for the doorman. My heels sink into the plush red carpet with the casino logo, my calves already cramping from the unfamiliar height of the shoes. It takes all my concentration not to trip.

Ryan says something to the doorman. The man checks our ID cards and nods us in one by one.

When it's my turn, he looks up from my ID. "First time, huh?" He hands me back my card. "Happy birthday, darlin'. Have fun."

Colin takes my arm, allowing me to lean on him as we follow Ryan and Celeste into the club. Ryan has obviously been here before. Judging by how he cuts straight across the floor to a lounge area raised above the bar, he knows his way around.

The red, blue, and indigo lights that flash in a staccato pattern on the dance floor are blinding. It's not even ten, but the music is pumping. The risotto I had at the restaurant sits like a lump of clay in my stomach. Ryan insisted that I eat, making me finish every morsel on my plate. It's not that the food wasn't good. The on-site restaurant is renowned for its cuisine.

It's stress.

Clutching my evening bag under my arm, I pull on the hem of my dress, making sure my ass is covered. Why did I let Mattie talk me into buying this scrap of fabric? I glance down, checking that my boobs aren't popping out. They're not big, but the neckline gapes if I don't pull my shoulders back.

Colin leans closer and says above the music, "Have I told you how stunning you look?"

I scoff. "Only about ten times. I know what you're trying to do, and it's not working."

The hairstylist dried my hair in waves and arranged it over one shoulder. My make-up is light with a dusting of golden eyeshadow and a pearly lipstick to match the dress. It's not me. I look different. I feel different. It doesn't help to settle my nerves.

"You're a hottie, Bella." Colin grins. "Admit it."

I shove him playfully and immediately regret it when I have to maneuver the dangerous walk over the slippery marble floor alone.

Ryan leads Celeste deeper into the club with his hand on the small of her back. She's bouncing with excitement at being out for the first time after Brad's birth. She's gone to a lot of trouble with her appearance, looking gorgeous in a black fitted dress with dainty silver chains for straps and platinum heels.

I take a closer look at her. Why have I never realized how beautiful she is? Her blond hair is ironed straight and tied in a high ponytail, exposing the fine bone structure of her face. The beautician did a great job with her make-up. The smoky eye shadow brings out the cobalt blue of her eyes, and the shimmery blush accentuates her high cheekbones. No wonder Ryan is holding onto her with so much possession, making a point of demonstrating to anyone looking that she's taken.

In a gray three-piece suit and a white shirt without a tie, my brother doesn't look too bad himself. Lighter than Mattie's and mine, his hair is dirty blond with natural highlights from the sun. Like his hair, he inherited his paler skin tone from Dad. Mattie and I got our olive complexions from Mom.

At the VIP section on the raised platform, Ryan shows his ID card again. The bouncer unclips the cord cordoning off the area and lets us through. A waitress who passes shoots Colin an appreciative look. His fitted white shirt and tailored beige slacks show off his muscles. The formal jacket he pairs with the otherwise casual attire as well as his signature loafers gives him that distinguished edge of wealthy people who underdress. He pulls the style off with ease.

Despite myself, I smile. "I'm not the one in danger of breaking hearts, tonight."

"No danger of that," he says.

He means it. Even though they've broken up, he's adamant about staying faithful to May until he moves to Cape Town.

Grateful to finally locate a seat, I sink into one of the transparent plastic chairs arranged around a Perspex table. The backrest is curved, and the seat is low. Getting up without flashing my underwear in the process will be difficult. The modern design of the furniture favors aesthetics instead of comfort. Now more than ever, I regret wearing a thong, but the dress is so tight that panty lines would've been visible.

Colin slides with considerably less difficulty onto the chair next to me. A waitress removes the reserved card on the table and asks what we'd like to drink. I open my mouth to say ginger ale, but Ryan orders champagne and sparkling water.

Celeste walks to the balustrade and leans over, swaying her ass to the beat of the music. Ryan goes to stand at her back, caging her between his arms with his palms planted on the rail. Unable to shake my unease, I look around, assessing the faces on the floor below before searching the bridge next to the DJ box.

Mistaking my motive, Colin says, "Don't worry. The others will be here soon. You know how long it takes them to get ready."

I give him a weak smile.

When the champagne arrives, the waitress uncorks the bottle and pours four glasses. I grab one and all but down it, needing the liquid courage. She tops up my glass before leaving.

"Thirsty?" Colin asks with a chuckle.

Ryan takes Celeste's hand and drags her back to us, preventing me from having to explain. My brother sits, pulls his wife onto his lap, and hands her a glass. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he rests his free hand on her stomach and says something in her ear. A flush darkens her cheeks. I don't often witness them in an environment outside of family. It's good to see them so happy.

By the time the rest of our group arrive, I'm on my third glass of champagne. Ryan waves the waitress over and tells her to keep the bubbly coming. I drink another glass while Ryan makes a toast, remembering too late to alternate with water. As if reading my thoughts, Colin hands me a crystal goblet of sparkling water.

"Let's dance." Celeste balances her empty glass in one hand while snaking her arms around Ryan's neck. She wiggles her ass on his lap. "I love this song."

He takes her glass and puts it on the table. "We're here to chaperone, remember?"

"Urgh." I make a face. "Don't let my friends hear that." Although, friends isn't the term I should use. We're not that close. Classmates or acquaintances would be a more fitting description. "Take your wife to dance, Ryan." My tone is teasing. "What kind of a husband are you?"

Ryan gives Celeste a panty-dropping smile and deposits her on her feet with a tap on her ass. The DJ hasn't opened the dance floor, but a few people are already warming up, shaking their bodies to the beat.

I watch the dancers until someone shoves a blue, fizzy drink into my hands. I look up.

"A blueberry gin and tonic," Veronica, the long-distance star athlete of our school, says with a wink. She clinks a glass with similar contents against mine.

The cocktail is sweet. I'm already buzzing from the champagne. Mixing isn't a good idea, but I need the alcohol to calm my anxiety. This is my party after all, and I'm still chasing the fun that seems set on eluding me.

The DJ opens the dance floor with a popular song. Everyone except me, Veronica, and Colin are dancing.

"Let's join the others," I say on impulse.

For the next hour, I try to get into the mood on the overfull dance floor, but the fragmented bursts of laser lights and the blaring music hurt my eyes and ears. A headache starts to build in my temples. The alcohol doesn't help. Neither does the paranoia that makes me see dark-haired and dangerous-looking men everywhere in the crowd.

The heat is insupportable. Or maybe it's just me. Perspiration covers my skin.

I touch Colin's arm to get his attention. "I'm going to the ladies."

"I'll come with you," he says, raising his voice above the music.

I'm glad for the hand he wraps around mine to steady me.

"Hey." He frowns when I almost lose my balance on the stairs. "Are you okay?"

I should be. I should be having the time of my life, but I'm not. I can pretend all I want to. The truth is that I'm hating this.

"I think you had a little too much to drink," he says with a laugh, opening the door to the VIP ladies' bathroom and holding it for me to enter. "I'll wait here. Shout if you need me."

"Thanks," I say, meaning it like never before.

Thankfully, the VIP bathrooms are less busy than the normal ones. I enter the nearest open stall and empty my full bladder. When I flush the toilet, the gold ring on my thumb catches my attention. Like a shiny piece of fool's gold, it mocks me, resembling everything that's been eating me since the day Angelo put that ring on my finger.

Vexation rises in a slow-burning path up inside me. The anger eradicates my self-control and reason. The point I'm at my lowest is the point I snap.

Enough.

Angelo ruled my thoughts and my life for the past two years. I won't allow him to take more than he already has. He won't destroy this night too.

Wiggling the hated ring from my thumb, I toss it in the toilet. It hits the water with a plonk and lands with a clank on bottom of the bowl. I watch the jewel that glitters in the water with detached fascination as I push the button and flush it away.

Gone.

As easy as that.

It takes a moment for the fact to settle.

My hand feels strangely light.

My chest too.

I linger a moment like someone standing next to a grave. Only, I'm not mourning. I'm taking perverse satisfaction from the sight of the clear water.

The bathroom door opens and slams.

Taking a deep breath, I exit the toilet. An attractive woman gives me an absent smile as she goes into the stall next to the one I vacated.

I move on autopilot to the vanity. The world isn't spinning, but I'm off-kilter. A little drunk. I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face, not caring that I'm ruining my make-up.

Someone else walks in. I barely spare the woman a glance as I tear a paper towel from the dispenser and dry my face.

She stops next to me and takes a tube of lipstick from her bag. "You, um, have something here."

It takes me a moment to realize she's talking to me. I catch her gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

She points at the area underneath her eye. "Mascara. Do you need help cleaning that up, love?"

Shaking my head, I yank another paper towel from the dispenser, wet it under the tap, and scrub away the mascara smeared under my eyes. In the reflection staring back at me, my tanned skin is pale.

I straighten. I can do this. I can have fun.

As he promised, Colin waits outside the door. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes," I say, my voice belonging to someone else.

"I think you had a little too much."

I head toward the dance floor. "You already said so."

"I'll get you a glass of water. If you're not feeling well, we can call it a night."

I rub my forefinger over my naked thumb. Backward and forward. It's hot in here. Suffocating. I want to go outside, strip my clothes, and swim for miles and miles into the ocean.

"Bella?" Colin stops me with a hand on my shoulder. "Do you want me to take you to your room?"

I'd rather go to the beach where I can breathe easier, but my finger is bare and it's my birthday. If that even makes sense. We're here to have fun. To be free.

I open my mouth to say no, but the word gets stuck in my throat as I lift my gaze to the bridge in front of us where everyone is dancing except for one man. He grips the rail in both hands, staring down at me with the darkest, most demonic eyes I've seen, looking like the devil in a black suit that molds to his tall form and broad shoulders. The lights dance over his face, illuminating the devastatingly handsome features I know better than my own.

Angelo Russo.

He stands there as if magically conjured by the act of flushing away his ring.

Adrenaline bursts through my veins. My heartbeat quickens. My mind can't decide if the reaction is from shock, fear, or excitement. It can't interpret the emotions rushing through me.

I pinch my eyes shut and open them.

The spot where he stood is empty.

There's no man, only dancing couples.

Am I seeing things now, things that aren't real? Is his hold on me so big that I'm hallucinating just because I finally scraped together enough courage to chuck away his damned ring?

I swallow.

"Bella," Colin says, giving me a gentle shake.

"Yes." My voice is surprising calm. "Please take me back to my room."

"Come."

He takes my hand and clears a path through the dancers until we reach Ryan and Celeste. Ryan has his hands on Celeste hips, rocking her to the rhythm of the music. He stares into her eyes with an intense expression.

Wow.

I've never seen my brother show that much emotion.

Colin taps him on the shoulder and says something. Ryan looks at me. Someone bumps into my back, making me stumble. Colin catches me.

Tilting his head toward the exit, Ryan takes Celeste's hand and moves in that direction. Once we've cleared the dance floor, he pauses.

"Bella had too much to drink," Colin says loud enough to be heard over the music. "I'm taking her to her room."

I wish he'd stop saying that. It's true, but I don't want the whole nightclub to hear him.

Ryan studies me with keen attention. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." It's a lie. I'm still shaking from what happened, from what I thought I saw. "I'm tired. I just need to rest."

My brother nods. "We'll come with you. Give me a moment to tell the others."

"Aw." Celeste pouts, taking Ryan's hand in both of hers and holding him back. "I'm having so much fun, baby." She makes a puppy face. "We haven't been out in a year."

My sister-in-law is tipsy. If the situation wasn't so stressful, it would've been funny.

"We're here for Bella, remember?" Ryan says.

"No." I clutch my bag under my arm so that I can grip the rail in my free hand to better keep my balance. "You should stay. Colin can walk me to my room. The party doesn't have to end because I had one glass of champagne too many. I don't want to spoil everyone else's fun. Besides, it's better if you stay to keep an eye on the others."

"See?" Celeste bats her eyelashes. "Bella wants us to stay. Colin is big enough to protect her." She giggles. "Right, Colin?"

"No problem," Colin says. "It's not as if we have to cross town or something. The room is right upstairs."

Ryan searches my eyes.

"I'll be fine. Really." I give him what I hope is a bright smile. "It's only midnight. After all the trouble you went to with the arrangements, it will be a waste if you leave so early."

"Fine," Ryan says in his usual unreadable demeanor. "Call me if you need us. Otherwise, we'll see you at brunch tomorrow."

"Maybe. With the way I feel, I'm not sure I'll make brunch. Thanks for tonight." I wave at Celeste before Colin steers me toward the door. "Have fun."

Ryan stares after us. He's a head taller than the people around him, which makes him stand out in the crowd. I easily keep a visual on him. He stays in the same spot until the door closes behind us, shutting out his image.

The dinging of the slot machines is loud. The floor is packed. I glance around, looking for Angelo in the sea of faces as Colin pulls me to the elevator. Of course he's not there. It's only been my imagination. Throwing away his ring was a symbolic act that had such an impact on my psyche it triggered the vision.

We get into the elevator and ride to the top floor. There are only two levels, but I'm glad for Colin's consideration not to make me navigate the stairs in my heels.

"Where's your keycard?" Colin asks when we stop in front of my door.

I remove the card from my bag and hand it to him.

"I can stay if you like," he says. "We can watch a movie or eat all the snacks in the bar fridge."

"That's kind, but no." I need to be alone, and I can't even tell him why. "I'm going to crawl into bed and sleep forever."

"Don't forget Ryan booked the brunch for eleven."

"Don't count on me to be up by then."

"Checking out is at twelve. Do you want me to call you to make sure you're awake?"

"I'll set my alarm."

He inserts the keycard in the slot and opens the door before handing me the card. "Drink a glass of water before you go to bed."

"Thanks for walking me." A shiver ripples through me. I glance over my shoulder, but the hallway is empty. "Go back to the party and have fun. It's not every day that the drinks are on Ryan."

He smiles. "Night, Bella. Call if you need anything. I'll keep my phone on me."

"I appreciate that."

"Happy birthday. You're officially inaugurated. Welcome to the tipsy club."

I finger-wave from over my shoulder as I go inside and shut the door. Darkness and silence wash over me. At last. No more cutting lights and banging music. I utter a sigh of relief, my shoulders sagging when I toe off my shoes.

The headache has grown to an uncomfortable pressure in my skull. I need paracetamol.

I dump my bag on the bench in the entrance and flick on the light switch. The overhead dim lights wash over the room, basking the modern furnishings in a soft golden glow. They dispel the darkness in the corners and illuminates the man who sits in the armchair with an ankle resting on his knee, the shadow he makes on the wall looking larger than life.