Sofia and Zara followed Max up the stairs to the VIP area. The music was still loud, but up here, the air felt cooler and the space was much more private. They sat on soft leather sofas and ordered drinks. Because they were so relieved to be safe and excited to be with Max, the two girls started drinking more than they usually did.
Max was a perfect host. He was charming and attentive, but as the night went on, he focused most of his attention on Zara. He laughed at her jokes and leaned in close to hear her speak over the music. Zara, who was already star-struck, was enjoying every second of it. Sofia watched them, feeling a bit hazy. The colorful lights of the club began to blur, and the loud thumping of the music felt like it was inside her head.
By midnight, Sofia and Zara were totally drunk. Their vision was blank and spinning. Sofia could barely keep her head up, and Zara was giggling uncontrollably while leaning against Max's shoulder.
Suddenly, the heavy VIP doors swung open.
It was the same group of men from earlier, but this time, they didn't look like regular bullies. They looked dangerous, and they were holding weapons. The leader had a sharp knife in his hand, and his eyes were full of rage. They had come back for revenge.
"You think you can humiliate us?" the leader hissed, stepping toward the table.
Sofia tried to stand up, but her legs felt like jelly. She felt a wave of terror, but her brain was too clouded by alcohol to move. Zara gasped, clinging to Max. Max stood up, his face turning cold and deadly, ready to fight.
But before anyone could move, a loud bang echoed through the room.
A single shot was fired from the dark corner of the balcony. The weapon flew out of the leader's hand as he screamed in pain. The other men froze in shock. Out of the shadows, a tall figure emerged, holding a silenced handgun. His face was hidden by the darkness and a low cap.
The shock and the loud noise were too much for Sofia. Her world spun one last time, and she fainted, falling into total darkness.
The mysterious man moved quickly. He didn't look at the criminals scivelling on the floor. He walked straight to the sofa where Sofia lay unconscious. He ignored everyone else in the room.
Max looked at the mysterious man. There was no fear in Max's eyes—only a look of recognition. They looked at each other for a long moment, a silent understanding passing between them. They clearly knew each other, bound by a secret that Sofia knew nothing about.
"Take the other one," the mysterious man said, his voice a low, gravelly command.
Max nodded. He picked up the semi-conscious Zara, who was mumbling nonsense. Max walked toward the back exit to take Zara to her home.
The mysterious man then turned to Sofia. He picked her up gently, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. He carried her out of the club through a private elevator, avoiding the crowds and the police sirens beginning to wail outside. He placed her in the back of the black Royal car and drove through the quiet city streets.
When they arrived at Sofia's house, the man used the key he had found in her bag to open the door. The house was silent and dark. He carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom.
He moved with a strange kind of tenderness. He placed Sofia on her bed, making sure her head was resting comfortably on the pillow. He took off her shoes and covered her with a soft blanket.
The room was only lit by the moonlight coming through the window. The man sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. Sofia was in a deep, drunken sleep, her breathing slow and even. Her face looked peaceful, though her hair was messy from the night's chaos.
Slowly, the man reached out. His hand was large, but his touch was incredibly soft. He touched her face, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. He gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, lingering there for a second.
He leaned down, his face just inches from hers. Sofia stirred slightly in her sleep, but her eyes remained closed. She had no idea who was in her room. She didn't know that this was the man who had been watching her for weeks.
He whispered something into her ear, his breath warm against her skin.
"Sleep well, Sofia. You are safe now, but the story is only just beginning."
He stood up and looked at her one last time before slipping out of the room like a ghost. He disappeared into the night, leaving Sofia to wake up the next morning with nothing but a headache and a vague memory of a shadow that felt like home.
While the man was busy in Sofia's room, Max was in the guest room where Zara usually stayed. He had carried her up the stairs carefully, making sure she didn't hit her head against the doorframe. Zara was fast asleep, her breathing deep and heavy from the night of dancing and drinking.
Max placed her gently onto the bed. He reached down and unstrapped her high heels, setting them neatly on the floor. Unlike the cold and serious expression he wore at the club, Max's face was now soft and relaxed.
He stood there for a moment, looking down at Zara. Even in her messy state, with her sparkling red dress slightly wrinkled and her makeup a bit smudged, he thought she looked beautiful. A small, genuine smile touched his lips. He reached out and cutely booped her nose with his finger, watching as she made a tiny grumbling sound in her sleep and turned to her side.
"You really are a handful, Zara," he whispered with a quiet chuckle.
He adjusted the blanket, pulling it up to her shoulders so she wouldn't feel the morning chill. He stayed for an extra minute, just admiring her peaceful face. Max was a powerful CEO who dealt with difficult people all day, but seeing Zara's bubbly and bright personality had sparked something new in him.
He knew his connection to the man in the other room was complicated and dangerous, but looking at Zara, he felt a protective instinct he hadn't felt in a long time. He took one last look at her, checked that she was comfortable, and then quietly backed out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.