My Fiancé Married Me To His Brother

The car didn't go to her house. It pulled up to the curb of Velvet, the most exclusive nightclub in the city.

"You can't go home looking like G.I. Jane," Killian said. "Go inside. Clean up. Blend in."

He didn't get out. He just waited.

Delia slipped out of the car and into the club's side entrance.

In the bathroom, she scrubbed the blood off her hands. She ditched the cap. She shook out her hair. She took off the tactical jacket, leaving her in the tight thermal top. It looked intentional. Edgy.

She walked out onto the floor. The bass thumped in her chest, masking her heartbeat.

She found Elsie Kidd in a booth near the bar.

"Delia!" Elsie screamed over the music. "Oh my god! I thought your dad locked you in the dungeon!"

Delia slid into the booth. "He tried."

She signaled the waitress. "Tequila. Double."

Elsie grabbed her arm. "Is it true? About Ansel?"

"Yes."

"Everyone is saying he dumped you because of his... condition."

"He's just ugly, Elsie," she said, downing the shot the waitress brought. "Inside and out."

Elsie grinned mischievously. “Oh? And what kind do you like, then? The deadly type? Like Killian Gibson?”

Delia choked on the lime.

Elsie's eyes widened in alarm. "No way! You're actually into that devil? He'll eat you alive!"

The image of Killian handing her a handkerchief in the car just moments earlier flashed across Delia's mind.

Delia quirked up the corner of her mouth. "Maybe I want a taste of being devoured too."

"Well, well." A slur of a voice interrupted them.

Delia looked up. Luke Higgins. Ansel's best friend. He was swaying, holding a drink that was mostly spilled.

"The reject," Luke sneered. "Ansel told me you begged him. On your knees."

Her hand tightened on her glass.

"Go away, Luke," she said.

"Or what?" He leaned in, his breath smelling of sour whiskey. "You gonna cry to your daddy?"

He reached out, his hand grasping for her shoulder.

Her muscle memory triggered. She grabbed his wrist. She twisted.

"Ow! Fuck!" Luke yelled.

"Let go of her!" Elsie shouted, standing up.

Luke shoved Elsie. She stumbled back, hitting her hip against the table. She cried out.

That was it.

The red haze dropped over her vision. She stood up. She was about to break his arm. She was about to snap it like a dry twig. She didn't care about the cover anymore. She was going to hurt him.

Suddenly, the music cut out.

The silence was instant. Violent.