Page 10 of Stolen Queen

My heart nearly stops.

Ava Rinella.

Here, at a gentlemen's club.

My instinct is to whisk her out of here, but she’s not mine to protect, not mine to want. But the thought of her being here, in the den of sin and debauchery, alone…

No. I can't let that happen.

3

AVA

Ican't believe I actually did it. I escaped my bedroom… my home. I am free. The minute I reached the road outside my home, I wasn’t sure what to do. I’ve never been unescorted anywhere. But I picked up a lot from friends in school, so I was able to order a rideshare and now, I’m in the city. Alone. The thrill of rebellion courses through my veins. For the first time in my life, I've defied my father's iron grip. No guards, no chaperones.

But where do I go from here? I have no plan, no destination in mind. I just knew I had to get out of that suffocating house before I went mad.

My gaze drifts across the street, landing on a sleek building with a line of well-dressed people outside. Music pulses from within. It’s exactly the kind of place my father would never allow me to set foot in.

"If I'm going to misbehave” —I square my shoulders— "I might as well go all out."

With a deep breath, I stride toward the club entrance, praying I don't give myself away as an imposter. I don’t lookthe part. Plus, I’m only eighteen. I step close to a group who is ushered in, following them in as if I’m with them.

I step into the club, and my senses are immediately overwhelmed. The pulsing music vibrates through my body, and the air is thick with the scents of perfume, alcohol, and something musky I can't place. Flashing lights paint the room in a kaleidoscope of colors, making my head spin.

My eyes widen as I take in the scene before me. Women in skimpy outfits that would make my father have a heart attack slink around the room, their movements sultry and practiced. Men in expensive suits lean against the bar, eyeing the crowd like predators on the hunt.

I tug at my oversized hoodie, suddenly feeling like a child playing dress-up. My attire might as well be a neon sign announcing my naivety to everyone here.

I catch sight of my reflection in a nearby mirror. Even with my face half-hidden by my hoodie, I can see the fire in my eyes. The fire that's been simmering inside me for years, waiting for a chance to break free. And here I am.

I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. I may not belong here, but I refuse to let that stop me. This is my night, my chance to taste freedom.

I approach the bar, my heart racing as I try to project an air of confidence I definitely don't feel. The bartender looks at me expectantly, and I realize I have no idea what to order. My knowledge of drinks is limited to the wine my father occasionally allows at dinner and his regular glasses of bourbon.

"I'll have… um…" I stammer, frantically searching my memory for something that sounds sophisticated.

Two men sidle up on either side of me. The one to my left flashes a charming smile.

“You look like a Cosmo gal."

I have no clue what that means, but I nod.

The first man chuckles and then tells the bartender to make me a Cosmopolitan while he asks for a scotch and water. The other man orders the same.

As the bartender whips up my drink, I resist the urge to run away because I know I’m out of my element. But this is what I want. Adventure, excitement, a taste of the world outside my gilded cage.

"So, what brings a girl like you to a place like this?" the second man asks, leaning in close.

The bartender sets a bright pink drink in front of me. I take a sip, savoring the sweet, tangy flavor. "I guess I was feeling rebellious."

They both laugh, and I smile despite my nerves. As we chat, I start to feel more at ease. The alcohol warms my veins, making me feel loose and free. As I finish another sip, a hand settles on my backside and squeezes. I jump, nearly spilling my Cosmopolitan.

"Hey!" I yelp.

The man who touched me grins, unrepentant. "Sorry, sweetheart. Couldn't resist." His gaze turns predatory as it scans my body.

My face burns with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. I open my mouth to tell him off.

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