Light strobes pulse in rhythm with the bass. Laser beams weave webs through the fog among the gyrating crowd. A woman behind a DJ booth directs the scene like an orchestra conductor, melodies obeying her every whim. The very air buzzes with energy—vibrant, restless, alive.

That is the view from above, from the mezzanine where I recline on a black leather sofa. A man sits opposite me, watching me scroll through his reports on a tablet. He's in his mid-thirties, around a decade older than me, dark-skinned with grey hairs peppering the sides of his head. Shadows rim his eyes, too deep to be caused by the lights of the club. His untouched glass of iced water sits on the end table by his side, the cubes melting as he fiddles with its rim.

"Looks good," I tell him, handing the tablet to Imari on my left and meeting the man's eyes, "but you're not here to report your tributes. What can I do for you, Herman?"

He brings his water to his lips, throat bobbing with every swallow. When he lowers it, holding it in both hands like it's his little girl, the glass is half-empty.

"It's Angela, my wife," he begins, "it's her second day in the hospital. I couldn't bring myself to leave her earlier, and I— I wanted to apologize for not coming to you right away, Miss Macheras."

My eyebrow goes up. "Tell me what happened."

He traces his fingers along the rim of the glass, his eyes going blank as he looks through it.

"She was driving home after seeing the midwife. I told her it was unnecessary. So many appointments, so many checkups, so much more than with our first one, and the baby was doing just fine. But she was paranoid after last time, you understand, after all the miscarriages and years of IVF..." He takes another drink, blinking tears away.

From my right, Valerie looks at me. I nod my ascent.

"Would you like something stronger?" She asks Herman.

He shakes his head. "No, ma'am, thank you."

With a clearing of his throat and a gesture from me, he continues, "I was at work, you see, couldn't be there with her. I... I had a feeling something was wrong all day. I should've taken the day off and gone with her. Maybe..." He trails off.

"Herman." His brown eyes snap to me at the sound of his name. I bite the inside of my cheek as I look squarely into them. "What happened?"

His chest rises and falls in a shuddering sigh. "Cops stopped her. I don't know what went down, but she was shot. Now she's in a coma, and our boy—" A sob rattles him as he purses his lips, tears running down his face. "They massacred him in his mother's womb. Why? Why would anyone do that?"

I nod at the box of tissues beside Imari, who hands it to him, and wait for Herman to cry it out. When his racking sobs subside, he downs the rest of his glass and breathes in.

"And so," he says, "I ask you for justice."

I lean forward at those words. "Justice for whom?"

His eyes meet mine, tears giving way to a piercing glare. "For my son."

Permitting myself a small smile and sitting back, I nod at Imari. He whips out his phone and starts tapping.

"You've been a friend to us for a long time, Herman," I tell the man, "my father is very grateful, as am I."

His phone on the coffee table lights up. I gesture for him to open it. He takes it with a shaking hand and taps the live feed link with a shaking thumb.

I watch his eyes harden and his nostrils flare at the screen. Veins in the hand holding the empty glass bulge as he squeezes it. He's never seen the scum who robbed him of a son and rendered his wife comatose, but he knows better than to doubt us. 

Two sets of three gunshots sound, and his mouth curls into a snarl.

"I sent some men to your home," I tell him, "two more will escort you there. They have keys to an apartment in a better neighbourhood, one where the cops know whose protection you have. You don't have to move there permanently, but I suggest staying there until Angela recovers, at least. She's being moved to Saint Joseph's." Raising my hand, I cut off Herman's building protest. "Worry not about the cost. All is covered. Like I said, my father is very grateful for your friendship, and he takes care of his friends."

His shoulders sag as he lets out a shaky breath, smiling through his tears. "Thank you, ma'am. Thank you to Rex. Thank you so, so much."

Nodding, I gesture for my men to escort him out of the building. When he's gone, I sip on my glass of Tequila, sighing as the burn travels down my esophagus.

I nod. "Nice job on that one, both of you. Quick, too."

Imari shrugs, tanned biceps lifting with the motion, and whips his chestnut curls out of his eyes. "Yeah, getting police bodycam footage. Challenge of the century."

"Try being handed the fuckers on a silver platter," says Valerie, "by their own chief of staff, no less. Anyways, it was your plan, Sienna."

I roll my eyes, downing the rest of my Tequila. "Can a girl not praise her comrades anymore?"

"Can her comrade not be humble anymore?" says Imari.

"To be fair, humility doesn't suit you." Valerie springs up and holds both hands out to us, looking at me. "Now, can we go do what you bought this place for?"

Exchanging eye rolls, Imari and I take either hand and allow her to lead us down to the dance floor. The music grows to a deafening pitch, the bass pounding in my chest as the crowd parts for us. I hear nothing but the beat, and I don't have to, for I lose myself in Tiesto's Adagio For Strings.

As the track nears its final drop, I recognize Imari's voice in my ear.

"What?!" I yell at him. Like I ever had a chance of making it out.

He doesn't even try repeating himself, just lifts me onto his shoulders. I yelp and find myself soaring above the crowd, everyone jumping to the beat. Mouth to the DJ's ear, Valerie is telling her something.

Knowing what's coming, I resign myself to the inevitable, bouncing on Imari's shoulders to the final refrain of the track. As it fades, Val meets my eye and rushes towards me with a shit-eating grin on her face, while the DJ grabs a mic.

"This next one's for our patron," she says, "let's hear it for Sienna Macheras!"

She stretches a hand out toward me, and all heads turn as The Weeknd's and Anitta's São Paulo starts playing. The very walls rattle with the bass and the jumping bodies. I move to the Brazillian fonk beat as Imari takes me to the bar. A muscled man holds Val by her waist and hefts her onto the counter as Imari stands me up on it.

She throws her arms around me, tracing my body with her hands as she gets low and comes back up. Her black curls gyrate with her every move, and her amber eyes burn, their heat spreading to me. She smells of amber, too, amber and cashmere and blackberries. I'd bury myself in her until the end of time if I could.

The room goes pitch black, and strobe lights flash like lightning, freezing moments in crystalline brilliance. Every flash is a photograph: her smiling, her fiery eyes on my lips, her face closer to mine, closer, closer...

And her lips meet mine. She pulls me into her, and I drag my fingers up her scalp, letting strands of her hair fall between them. I open my mouth to let her tongue in, inhaling her like it's the last time. My heart hammers against hers, in tandem with it. She's everything I know in this moment; her sweet taste and amber scent are the only stimuli I register. Not even the song's bombastic crescendo phases me.

By the time I open my eyes, the song has ended, the neon lights are back, and she beams at me under them. I bite my lip when I smile back, butterflies roiling in my stomach. She's so fucking gorgeous.

Someone taps my ankle. Looking down, I see Imari nodding toward the entrance. When our eyes follow, Valerie's shoulders sag. Ignoring the sting of pain that motion brings me, I hop off the bar counter and catch my boyfriend's eye, motioning to the mezzanine before heading there with my friends in tow.

"Hey," Tyler says as we meet halfway, planting a kiss on my lips. What's left of Valerie's lingering scent is overpowered by his cologne. Not that I mind; he smells of musk and citrus and the sea. "Sorry I couldn't make it earlier, babe. Got held up at work."

"It's alright," I say as we climb the stairs, "I had to deal with some Macheras business anyway."

"Anything we Bradys can help with?"

I stroke his broad chest. He's wearing a simple gold chain and a white T-shirt, his lean muscles beautifully contouring the fabric. His almond eyes squint with his smile as a strand of black hair falls over them. It makes my knees weak every time.

"There's nothing to bother your dad with." I smirk as we reach the top. "You, on the other hand..."

At my words, his smile darkens, eyes going to my lips as he pulls me in, placing a hand to mine on his chest. "Has someone been working herself up for me?" He eyes Valerie at the minibar downing a shot. "Was that the blackberry lipgloss I tasted on you?"

"It's tinted lip balm." She spins on her heels, plastering a transparently fake smile. "And get a room."

"Gladly." He looks her over. "Wanna join?"

"Will you be there?"

"That's the idea."

"Then I'd rather blow my brains out." She downs another shot.

"Val," I drone, another stab of pain piercing my heart, "come on. That's enough."

Rolling her eyes, she turns away. "Whatever."

As I make to go to her, Tyler's hand over mine tightens.

"I got this," he whispers. Speaking louder, he says, "by the way, you couldn't bother my dad if you tried. He's back in Singapore."

Valerie spins on her heels again, eyes going wide. "Already?"

Imari snorts from the leather couch I occupied earlier. I almost forgot he's here.

"You're so predictable, bitch," he says.

"It's true, though," Tyler says, pouring himself a glass of bourbon, "he flew out last night."

"Why does he even come here, at this point?" Valerie says. "His flights are longer than his stays."

"And he's not even the Singaporean one of your parents," Imari adds dryly. "How ever could that be?"

"I know he has a real estate business there, Imari," says Valerie, "but he has business here, too. You can't tell me this isn't odd."

"Careful," Tyler says, "I may let slip that you're suspecting him of something."

"Please do. Maybe then he'll make you back off my girlfriend."

"And you'll lose the only ally you have against those Hydra startups. Is that what you want?"

"I think the Macheras will be just fine without your help, thank you very much."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Sienna—"

"Enough!" Pain stings my palm as I slam it on an end table. All three pairs of eyes jump to me. Bile rising in my gut, I watch Valerie and Tyler shrink under my gaze. Imari, meanwhile, watches and eats a bowl of nuts like it's popcorn.

"I need the bathroom." My eyes fall on my girlfriend. "Come with me."

Thankfully, neither she nor Tyler protests as I lead her. I could've just taken her to my office, but something about ordering her there feels wrong, like she's an employee who needs reprimanding or something. Plus, the individual bathroom feels more private.

"Val, what the fuck?" I shut the door behind her. "I know you don't like him, but are you fucking kidding me?"

"It's not just him, Sienna," she says, "it's his whole fucking family. Your dad doesn't need a Singaporean real estate mogul and a fashion designer, he has more power in his fucking pinkie. You have more power in your fingernail. They're not worth it."

"And you made your opinion very clear in front of the real estate mogul's son. That was stupid, Val."

"Oh, please, what's he gonna do? Run to his mommy and blacklist me from her stores?"

My teeth dig into the inside of my cheek as I stare at the unapologetic look in her eyes. Something at the back of my mind screams.

"Why can't you understand that it hurts like hell every time you fight?" I say.

Her eyes meet mine, her throat bobbing as she looks at me. "Why can't you understand that it hurts like hell every time I see you with him?"

Like biting cold steel, her words stab me. My throat seizes up, breath coming out in shakes as nausea builds.

"That's not fair, Valerie," I whisper, "I told you I wanted to date him. You were fine with that."

"I said I won't stop you, not that I was fine with it."

"What do you want me to do, then? Walk on eggshells every time I'm with you two in the same room? Break up with him because you're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous, Sienna."

The guffaw that comes out of me has no mirth. "Are you sure you wanna die on that hill?"

There is nothing I hate more than seeing the pain in her eyes that I see now. Under any other circumstance, I'd claw my heart out trying to ease it. I still want to do it, and I know that—if push comes to shove—I'd do everything I said. Between her and Tyler, her and anyone, I'd always choose her. Until this moment, though, I was sure she'd never make me choose.

She opens her mouth to speak, and I steel myself to make that choice, but a fist at the door interrupts.

"Sienna," Imari calls, "Rex is in your office. He asked for you."