Chapter 38

DIANA

The pulsing bass of the music reverberated through the air as Hudson led me through the throng of people outside the nightclub. My hand was firmly clasped in his, our fingers entwined as we made our way to the entrance.

"The line is back there," I said.

He snorted. "I don't wait in line."

His arrogance took me by surprise. "Hudson," I chided. "We can't take cuts."

He ignored me. He dragged me up to the front of the line with the young men and women staring at us. Surprisingly, they didn't look pissed. They looked envious. All of them were dressed to the nines. They had been waiting for their moment to shine, and Hudson just waltzed in like he owned the place. Maybe he did. The bouncer at the door gave Hudson a nod of recognition, a knowing smile on his face. I shot Hudson a puzzled look, but he just squeezed my hand tighter and flashed a charming smile at the bouncer.

We stepped inside the club, and that was when I saw why Hudson was so confident. The VIP section was roped off, but we didn't even break our stride as Hudson led me past the security without a second glance. As we ascended the staircase to the exclusive area, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a tinge of apprehension. This was a world I had only seen in movies, and now here I was, hand in hand with a man who seemed to belong in it effortlessly. The VIP section was a stark contrast to the crowded dance floor below. Plush couches lined the walls, bathed in a soft golden light that made everything seem dreamlike. The music up here was just a murmur, a backdrop to the low hum of conversation and laughter.

Hudson guided me to a secluded corner where a small table awaited us, already stocked with an array of drinks. He pulled out a chair for me with a flourish, gesturing for me to sit. I sank into the luxurious seat, my head spinning with a heady mix of excitement and disbelief. Hudson settled into the chair across from me, his gaze never leaving mine.

"Surprised?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head in amazement. "You could say that. How did you manage all of this?"

Hudson leaned back in his chair, his confidence unwavering. "Let's just say I have some connections in high places."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort at the special treatment, the way we were waved through as if we were VIPs. I wasn't used to this kind of attention, this sense of entitlement that seemed to follow Hudson wherever he went. But he seemed unfazed by it all, laughing as a woman wearing next to nothing stepped into the VIP area.

"Bottle service?" she asked Hudson.

"You know it," he said with a wink. He turned to me with a huge grin. "You're going to love this." He turned back to the woman wearing booty shorts, a tiny little top, and heels that hurt my feet. "Dom."

"Coming right up," she said and flashed a grin.

"Come on, Diana, let's show them how it's done," he said, his voice barely audible over the thumping music.

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the unease that settled in the pit of my stomach. I wouldn't have minded waiting in line like everyone else, but Hudson's easy confidence was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement of it all.

The woman returned with a bottle of Dom Perignon on a silver platter, popping the cork expertly with a loud pop. The champagne bubbled over as she poured it into two crystal flutes, the effervescent liquid reflecting the lighting in the VIP area. I took a delicate sip, feeling the luxurious drink slide smoothly down my throat. Hudson clinked his glass against mine, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"To new adventures," he toasted.

I couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. It was a little over the top, but I only lived once. He gestured for the young woman to come back again. I couldn't imagine what he wanted, but he ordered whiskey.

As the woman left to fetch the whiskey, Hudson turned back to me with a gleam in his eyes. "You're going to love this," he said.

"What about the champagne?" I asked.

"What about it?"

"Mixing drinks leads to disaster," I reminded him.

I heard a loud uproar and looked down at the people below. The young woman tasked with getting Hudson's whiskey was being carried through the crowd by several security members like she was a regal queen.

I watched in disbelief as the scene unfolded below us. The young woman was being carried through the crowd with reverence, as if she was royalty. People in the club turned to stare, some even reaching out to touch her as she passed by, their faces a mix of awe and envy. It was like watching a surreal spectacle, one that seemed to blur the lines between fantasy and reality.

"What the hell?"

"Bottle service." He grinned. "It's part of the show."

I nodded, trying to mask the nervousness that had gripped me again. Something about the spectacle left an uneasy feeling within me, but Hudson was quick to distract me. His fingers intertwined with mine, his touch comforting in a place so foreign. We had been around the world in foreign countries, and I never felt so out of place as I did just then.

His next words were just a whisper, meant only for me, his lips brushing my earlobe. "Just enjoy the night."

As if on cue, the woman arrived at our corner with several security guards trailing behind her. The bottle she was carrying was encased in a glowing ice bucket, the liquid amber of the whiskey gleaming. The crowd below watched the spectacle, their eyes focused on us with an intensity that made my stomach churn. I reminded myself to breathe, to laugh, to match Hudson's unwavering confidence. He was used to being watched. I wasn't. Not like this.

The woman placed the bottle on our table with an exaggerated bow. "Enjoy," she said before she sauntered away.

Hudson poured us each a glass of whiskey. I watched as the amber liquid swirled in the glass, the scent of oak and smoke wafting up to my nose. I took a tentative sip, letting the warmth slide down my throat.

"Smooth, right?" Hudson asked, a grin on his face.

I nodded, unable to suppress a smile. "It is."

A group of guys approached. "Bancroft! Where have you been?"

Hudson got to his feet, shook hands, and fist-bumped them. I sat back and watched and listened to them. They were giving him crap about being missing in action and thought he might have been locked up. They looked at me and teased Hudson about bringing a girl to their usual hookup spot and killing the mood. I felt their eyes on me, assessing and judging. I shrank back slightly, suddenly self-conscious under their scrutiny. I knew I didn't look like the women on the dance floor wearing very tight, skimpy outfits.

I tried to laugh it off, to play along with their teasing, but inside, I felt a growing sense of discomfort. This wasn't my scene, wasn't where I belonged. I couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in this world of excess and indulgence.

His buddies headed back down to the floor to look for women. Hudson sat down, throwing his arm around me. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Hudson," I murmured, leaning in close so he could hear me over the pounding music. "I don't think I belong here. This is a little much."

He refilled my champagne glass. I had only drunk a little. Something told me I needed to keep my wits about me. I did not want to get drunk. He was well on his way to being wasted. One of us was going to need to get us out of here.

"Why don't we dance?" he suggested. "If you still want to leave, then we will."

I supposed I could look at this as my one and only chance to party in an upscale Manhattan club.

I hesitated but eventually nodded. Hudson gave me an encouraging smile, finishing off his glass of whiskey before reaching for my hand. He led me out onto the dance floor, the pulsating music vibrating up from the floorboards and into my very bones.

The flashing lights cast strange shadows over everyone's faces, making it all feel even more surreal. I gripped Hudson's hand tight as he pulled me into him, our bodies moving to the beat of the music. A small smile played on his lips, and for a moment it made my apprehension fade.

He was a surprisingly good dancer. Every move was filled with confidence and grace despite being drunk. I tried to match his rhythm, to lose myself in the music and the moment, but there was something different about his touch tonight, something more primal and intense than I was used to. His hands roamed over my body, his movements more sexual and aggressive than usual. I felt a flicker of discomfort stir within me at the very open display. Yes, everyone else was doing it, but that didn't make me feel like I should be doing it. I was used to following the rules and never doing anything that might be looked down upon.

I took a step back, trying to get some breathing space, but the crowd was too dense. Bodies closed in around us, swaying rhythmically to the pulsating music. I looked up at Hudson and saw his eyes were a darker shade of green than the usual hazel. His pupils were dilated with amusement and something else that sent shivers down my spine. His hands tightened around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and for a moment, I forgot where we were, lost in the feel of his body pressing against mine.

"Hudson," I murmured, trying to catch his eye over the pounding beat. "Maybe we should take a break."

But he seemed oblivious to my unease, his attention focused solely on the dance floor and the throng of bodies surrounding us. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, before slipping out of his grasp and making my way toward the exit.

The cool night air was a welcome relief after the heat and chaos of the club. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart as I leaned against the brick wall of the building. My moment of solitude was short-lived when I spotted a group of girls sitting on the curb, their faces flushed and their eyes glassy. They were all pretty drunk, judging by the way they were stumbling and giggling.

I watched as a group of guys approached them with their intentions clear. My stomach churned with disgust as they leered at the girls, their hands wandering where they weren't welcome. Without hesitation, I made my way over to them.

"They're with me," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. "Leave them alone. Back off."

To my relief, the guys backed off without protest. I turned to the girls, offering them a reassuring smile as I helped them to their feet.

"Come on," I said, guiding them toward a waiting cab. "I'll make sure you get home safely. Go straight home."

By the time Hudson emerged from the club, his steps unsteady and his words slurred, I had already settled the girls into the cab and sent them on their way. He draped a heavy arm over my shoulder, pulling me in close as he swayed slightly on his feet.

"You're a beautiful person, Diana," he slurred, his breath warm against my ear. "Inside and out."

I smiled, grateful for his words but unable to shake the sense of unease that lingered within me. "Thanks, Hudson. But I think it's time to go home."

He nodded, his movements slow and deliberate as he hailed a cab. As we climbed inside and the city lights blurred past us, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over me. Tonight had been a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of the city. This was Hudson's world. I was struggling to pair the man I knew with the man I saw tonight. I honestly didn't really care for this version of Hudson.