Page 73 of The Sweetest Revenge

The liquor burned through my veins, turning fear into liquid courage. One shot, two, three, I'd lost count, but now the idea of kissing a stranger in the dark didn't seem so terrifying. What made my heart race was imagining Zaiden's face when he found out, when I proved him wrong.

I scanned the crowded room, watching bodies shift and separate like schools of fish, everyone finding their designated dark corners. Journey and Mila had already disappeared into the shadows, leaving me alone with my terrible decisions.

My fingers trembled as I unfolded the paper, the white slip somehow heavier than it should be.

Room 25 closet.

"Fuck my life."

Closets. Of all the places in this massive house, it had to be a closet. One way in, one way out, no windows to offer even a sliver of moonlight. Just four walls pressing in and darkness so thick you could choke on it.

The paper crumpled in my fist as my gaze lifted to the staircase in front of me and then shifted to the front door. No one would know if I left. No one but me, and for some reason, I felt like I had something to prove, not only to myself but to everyone at this party. Realistically, I knew no one cared, but it didn't change the way I felt.

"You better hurry, Ledger." The tall man's shadow stretched across the wall as he passed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's going to be dark soon, and who knows what evil will be lurking down here."

My skin prickled at his tone as my gaze followed his retreating figure. "What the fuck does that mean?" The question hung in the empty hallway, unanswered.

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head before sucking in a deep breath as I strolled up the stairs and searched the floor for room 25. This frat house had three floors, and the "2" indicated the bedroom was on the second floor.

Room 25 waited at the end of the hallway. Each step down the corridor made the floorboards creak, marking my approach. The doorknob was cold under my palm, resisting for a moment before giving way.

The smell hit me first, a suffocating mix of stale cologne and something distinctly male. Shadows stretched across rumpled bed sheets and discarded clothes, turning familiar shapes into lurking monsters. Everything about this room screamed warning, but the alcohol in my system translated fear into reckless courage.

The closet door creaked as I pulled it open. One step inside. Another. The lights died as I clicked it shut, plunging me into absolute darkness. The air felt thick, pressing against my chest, squeezing tighter with each shallow breath. "You can do this," I whispered, but the blackness around me swallowed my words. My fingertips found the wall behind me, anchoring me in place as I waited. "You can do this," I mumbled as I stood completely still, trying to steady my breathing.

A creak pierced the silence. My heart slammed against my ribs as I held my breath. "Hello?" The word disappeared into the void, unanswered.

Click.

The door sealed shut, and the air felt different—heavier, charged. Someone else was here, breathing the same thick darkness. Usually, company in the dark meant comfort. But this wasn't Journey or Mila or anyone else I trusted. This stranger with unknown intentions shared six square feet of pitch-black space with me.

"Hello?" Nothing. It was too dark to see anything. "Um?—"

I instantly regretted my choice to play this stupid game.

Deep, measured breaths cut through the silence, each exhale controlled. Too controlled.

"I'm Ari—Ariella Ledger." My voice sounded small in the darkness. "And you are?—?"

Large hands found my waist, fingers spreading possessively against my ribs. My pulse jumped wildly, a trapped bird beating against my throat. "Um—okay. If you want to just kiss and get it over with?—"

His grip turned to iron, and before I could process what was happening, he spun me like a rag doll. My back slammed against his chest, the impact forcing a yelp from my throat. This wasn't how someone moved for just a kiss. This was something else, something that made my blood run cold.

Panic raced through my veins. I had no idea who this was or what his plans were, but I had no intention of going any further than a kiss, and I honestly didn't even want to do that. I wanted to piss Zaiden off. Prove I wasn't his. To prove I didn't belong to anyone.

It seemed stupid now that I was in a dark closet with a stranger, and Zaiden would probably never even know I was there or what happened.

Sometimes, I had the stupidest ideas.

His large hands circled my waist, holding me in place as his lips dropped to my shoulder.

"Uh, hey," I tried to keep my tone calm, "I think I'm going to go." I pulled against his grasp, but he didn't budge. His grip only tightened. His hand wrapped around my throat as the other one slid lower to the waistband of my skirt.

"What are you—" The question trailed off as his hand slid over my waist, over my stomach to the waistband of my skirt, a new point of contact that made coherent thought impossible.

My chest heaved with fear, and I knew I only had one possible way out of this, and it was going to kill me to say it out loud.

"I belong to Zaiden Knight." The words tumbled out, desperate and raw. "And he will kill you."

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