19. Sophie

19

SOPHIE

T he club hits me like a punch. The music slams into my chest, deep and unforgiving, like a live wire cutting through the air. The lights are strobing—too fast, too bright—blurring the people around me, the sweat, the bodies packed too close. It’s hot, suffocating. The air smells of alcohol and something darker, something wrong. The crowd moves as one, like they’ve rehearsed it. I hate it. I hate how easy it looks; how effortless they make it seem.

I hand the bouncer a hundred-dollar bill. His hands are swift, not even a glance at our IDs. He doesn’t need to look. He already knows what we are. His eyes flick over us once, a quick read, and he lets us through. Lily’s already pulling me into the fray, dragging me with her, her laugh cutting through the bass, high and bright. She doesn't belong here. I don’t belong here.

I feel every eye on me as we step into the room, the crowd washing over us, brushing up against my skin like a tide of heat, body odor, and drugstore perfume. My stomach twists. But my brain clicks into gear, ticking off the boxes—getting in, getting the intel, getting out. Yet, the world around me is suffocating— too loud, too bright—and Lily’s pulling me deeper into it. She’s so fucking eager, like she’s in her element, while I can barely keep my skin on.

She leans into me, shouting in my ear, asking where the girl from biology is supposed to meet us. I offer an easy lie. Tell her the girl from biology flaked. She buys it, of course.

She grins, wide and innocent. “Guess you’re glad you’ve got me then.”

I nod, but my skin crawls. It’s all fake here. The excitement, the smiles, the way she moves through the crowd with her own bright bubble of warmth—it’s a goddamn performance. I want to yank her out of it, but I don’t. I need her for the job. She’s the link, the key to getting in deeper. No one’s ever going to like me as much as they like her, so I have to play along, stay calm, stay in control.

I keep my head down, blending in as best I can, but it’s not easy. Every step feels like I’m moving through molasses, the pressure building in my chest. I’m not like these people. They wear their smiles like shields, their wealth like armor. I see through it—see the hollowness behind their eyes. They’re all playing the same game, and none of them realize how close I am to cutting through the facade.

The room spins around me—every laugh, every flash of movement, every glance pulls me in deeper, and my mind starts to scatter, fraying at the edges. But then Lily’s nudging me, grinning, all wide-eyed and giddy, and I turn just in time to see her pointing to the back corner of the room.

A man stands there—tall, dark, his suit sharp and gleaming like he’s someone important. He’s flanked by men just as polished, each of them with a look that screams power, the kind that makes the air feel thick. I feel it, low and dangerous, that raw hunger that drives men like him. These are the ones I’m supposed to be studying. These are the ones I’m supposed to get close to, learn from. I’m here to see them, to understand them, to slip inside their world and rip it apart for the agency. For my mother.

Lily’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She’s laughing, so fucking carefree, and I feel the cold knot of anxiety coil tighter in my chest. The job. The people. They’re all blending together, too many distractions. I need to focus, but I can’t. The lights blur, the music suffocates, the faces of strangers shift and melt.

Then Lily’s slipping away from me, moving toward the VIP section, and my pulse spikes.

Fuck.

I reach out instinctively, my fingers brushing the air, but she’s already too far. I see her laughing, talking to a bodyguard, her smile wide and easy. It doesn’t even register in her head, how easily she’s stepped into their world. She’s already caught the right attention, and I’m too slow.

I watch her disappear into the VIP area, her laugh echoing behind her, and my stomach twists. I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve kept her with me, but it’s too late. I should’ve known better.

I stand still for a moment, watching. The pressure inside me boils over. I know I should move, but I can’t. I’m stuck, frozen for just a second. And then I follow. I have no choice.

Inside the VIP room, everything shifts again. The air is thick with perfume and alcohol, too slick, too polished. Everyone here wears their influence like a second skin. I scan the faces, snap a few photos, my hands moving on autopilot. But my eyes keep coming back to Lily. I can’t keep track of her. She keeps slipping through the cracks, lost in the sea of perfect smiles, perfect faces, perfect lies.

I try to ignore it, focus on the job. But the unease won’t leave me. The crowd shifts, the music blurs, and then I lose her completely. I search for her for half an hour before I really start to worry.

Fuck.

I scan the room, pushing through bodies, my mind running in circles. There’s something wrong. I feel it in my gut, gnawing at me like a hunger I can’t ignore. I push harder, shoving past people, until I finally find her.

She’s surrounded by people, but the scene isn’t what I expect. The room spins as I take it in, my stomach clenching.

Lily’s pale, wide-eyed, her body stiff. She’s not okay.

One of the men has his hand up her dress. She’s barely conscious, her body frozen, her eyes wide with terror. He’s groping her. The others are circling, waiting for their turn. Someone’s filming it.

I feel the blood drain from my face.

For the first time, I understand what Mom was trying to tell me. This world? It doesn’t give a shit. It’s not pretty, not clean. It’s dark, ugly, and this is the price. This is the cost of everything I’ve stepped into.

I see the fear in Lily’s eyes, the desperation.

Something inside me snaps.

I don’t think. I don’t ask myself if this is right. I just act. I pull Lily out of the circle of men, shoving them away, ignoring the confusion, the shouts, the looks. My heart’s in my throat, but I force my body into autopilot. Lily can barely stand, so I find a group of girls my age, slip them a few Benjamins, and ask them to take her to the ladies' room and wait for me there.

Then, I turn back.

I move fast, cold and calculated, eyes locked on the man who was touching her. He’s still watching me, his gaze curious, not knowing what’s coming.

I ask him to join me in the men’s room. He doesn’t argue, he doesn’t hesitate. He thinks I’m just another girl playing the game.

I slam the door shut behind us, and I don’t hesitate, either.

I don’t think .

I just do.

Charlotte was right. The job’s never easy. But it’s always clear.

I’m going to make sure he won’t hurt anyone again.