Page 54 of Vintage

"I love you, Mrs. Rowan."

My tears flowed more freely as the dark spots began to cloud my vision.

Chapter Twenty Three

Red scattered everywhere. The neon glow enveloped the dark figures shimmering under the faint lights, spreading across the space filled with bodies dancing, slick with sweat.

"You see me." The gentle lilt of her voice drowned out all other sounds, slipping through the droplets of fear that eclipsed any authority.

"I see you." I murmured, my voice thick as I downed another shot of liquor.

We stood facing away from each other, her heavy breaths and gasps echoing in my ears, sending shivers down my spine. The air was thick withthe scent of alcohol and smoke, making my thoughts sluggish amidst the heavy sounds.

In the far corner, she lingered, her silhouette adorned in a sleek black dress that clung to her curves and shimmered like satin. Her gaze was intense, scanning the room with a focus that both attracted and repelled. A faint red glow from the neon sign above the bar illuminated her features, accentuating the sharp lines of her face while leaving the rest shrouded in shadow.

Laughter erupted around her, yet it felt far away, almost muted, as if the outside world was just a whisper. The atmosphere buzzed with an unspoken tension, a blend of desire and danger.

Our eyes locked, colliding. I could see her clearly, but she struggled to define me despite the brightness of the bar counter.

I wanted to ask, have you ever gazed into the darkness and thought how beautiful it is? Because I might be on the verge of committing a sin—looking into the dark and smiling.

She took a slow sip of her drink, the glass shimmering in the low light, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to hold its breath, caught in the spell of her presence.

"Keep your eyes on the entrance, Mr. Rowan," she laughed softly, her voice echoing in my ear, laced with a dangerous undertone that challenged me.

I barely noticed the pain from my scar or the irritation of the bandages clinging to my skin.

It had been less than a week since I left the hospital, yet uncovering hidden truths felt like shadows creeping into our lives. This time, I decided to embrace them to ensure her safety. To keep her close.

"I never wanted to be here," another voice cut through the tension left by my wife's words. Reese muttered from somewhere on the first floor.

She was petite, with red hair that allowed her to fade into the background effortlessly.

"Attention! Target has entered at 2 o'clock through the back staff gate..." Darius announced, and instantly, we were all on high alert without needing to see or ask.

Timothy, my gym buddy, poured another round of vodka shots. Almost everyone I knew was at this table—some I conversed with, others not so much—but it was clear they were glad to have me back.

"Just don’t get lost in the drinks, Amir. Stay focused on the target, and watch your back. You’re his target, remember?" Reese warned, her tone sharp.

Whatever. I know. But I hardly cared because my gaze was fixed on my wife, doing her best to evade the attention of the annoying men who thought she was available. Not on my watch.

"Amir! Amir! Amir! Amir! Amir! Amir!" The table erupted in cheers as I downed glass after glass, finally slamming the last empty one down and raising my hands in triumph.

The bar buzzed with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses, a warm atmosphere of excitement enveloping the men I had sought assistance from. They were deep into their drinking contest, competitive spirits rising with every round. That’s when Luhak made his entrance—a tall figure with a disconcerting smile that never quite reached his eyes.

He was the one we were after. A man in his sixties, his hair streaked with gray from age, yet there was nothing about him that felt ordinary.

I rose alongside the others, standing taller than everyone, including Luhak.

He flashed a smile and extended his hand for a shake, but I only reciprocated after he had exchanged pleasantries with Timothy. The roughness of his hand brought back unwelcome memories.

That bastard. I knew him all too well to forget.

“Mind if I join?” he inquired, his voice smooth yet somehow unsettling. “I’ll take care of the drinks tonight.”

Timothy shot me a glance, his face a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

I nodded quickly, and he moved to secure a consensus from the rest.

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