Tucked behind one of the main boulevards in an old bread factory abandoned after the 2008 economic crash, The Factory was a club and bar that opened while I was away. Its weathered exterior concealed a lush, almost hidden world inside.

Stepping in felt like walking into a psychedelic dream. Everything drowned in red light. Mosaic lamps hung from the ceiling at mismatched heights like fireflies. Soft fabric draped from above, forming a canopy over the space, and to the left, a bar gleamed like a golden island.

On the far side of the dance floor, the DJ mixed dirty rock, rap, and pop tracks—genres I never imagined would work until then. A wave of heat washed over me before the strong scent of lotus incense hit. Pushing through the crowd, I understood why.

Smoking inside closed public was banned not too long ago, but the smell of tobacco and weed grew stronger the deeper we went, and I couldn't help but smile. I missed that freedom—the excuse to smoke at a party and come home smelling like a tobacconist.

Mercy blasted from the speakers, the bass pounding through my chest until my heartbeat synced with it. Oh yes. This was exactly what I needed tonight.

Drink after drink, shot after shot, we drowned the day's tension in alcohol. My body forgot the strain that had knotted my muscles; the world's worries dissolved as I wove through the heat of bodies on the dance floor.

My friends passed a joint among themselves, and I licked my lips like a cat eyeing catnip, swiping it before Dani could pass it to Andrei. Under their surprised eyes, I took the j between my lips and inhaled deeply.

Tilting my head back, I exhaled the thick plume of smoke, watching it swirl and twist like a ghostly wisp. The joint's tip glowed fiercely against the dim light, a tiny beacon of defiance against the shitty feelings I'd battled all day. After another puff, I passed it along.

We spent some time like that—dancing, drinking, swaying between the bar and the dance floor. A couple more puffs found their way to me, and I gladly accepted, savoring the gentle buzz. But even after my period of abstinence, the high fell short. It was almost laughable. It was irritating. Months of benders would do that, I guess.

Before, I danced with excess, swayed to the rhythm of indulgence, and reveled in the hazy euphoria. It used to be my temporary reprieve, a celebration of freedom that felt all too fleeting. My escape from the bleakness of what life turned into. I snorted until my days stretched, time blurred, and morning and night blended. Until the high turned jagged, and I needed to calm my heart down for a minute.

In those moments, weed became nothing but the balancing act, smoothening out the edges of whatever uppers course through my body, taking the edge off just enough so I don't spiral out too fast. And when weed wasn't in the books, xannyes and other pills took care of it.

We were taking a break from dancing when I felt a tug on my arm jolted me. On edge, I reacted quickly, feeling oddly dejected seeing my friend. Dani pulled me aside with an urgent grip that made me frown. His palpable worry made me follow him to a spot near the entrance.

"You sure he didn't do anything to do you?"

It took a moment to grasp what he meant.

"Not you, too..." I groaned.

Laura, I understood—she felt some weird duty as my childhood friend. But Dani? This was a stupid drama I didn't need from him.

"I thought we went over this. Nothing happened." I said, my irritation clear.

"That's what you keep saying..." Dani's whisper was barely audible over the music. "But you're not acting like it."

Staring him down, I arched my brow. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"When did you join us for drinks, let alone a party before, Isa?"

I sighed, running a hand through my sweat-drenched hair.

"I don't know what image you've painted of me, Dani, but I'm not some goody two shoes." I exhaled.

It was his turn to raise his brows and scrunch his forehead. "The moment we lit up a joint, you'd already be gone, Isa."

I understood why he might find my behavior odd. A party was like putting me up for trial with the devil's sweetest temptation dancing around me. I had to avoid any triggers and stay in check.

"This isn't like you, and I know he must've played a role in it."

In a way, he was right. Hamza ruined it all for me with that first hit that made my resolve crumble faster than a house of cards. But Dani saw me as a good girl going through a rebellious phase at best. He couldn't be further away from the truth. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I struggled to burst his bubble without revealing too much.

"I just needed time to readjust, to make friends," I offered him a soft smile, hoping to ease the tension on his face. "That doesn't make me Mother Theresa, you know?"

"Fair enough." Dani returned my smile. "It's just that..." He looked down with rosy cheeks. "I don't want to see you getting caught up in Hamza's games."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm a big girl, Dani. I can take care of myself." I forced a smile back, my cheeks tight with effort.

Thinking this marked the end of our discussion, I turned to make my way to the group. But Dani wasn't letting go.

"Hamza ruins everything good around him." His grip was firm but gentle, turning me to face him. "You deserve better than that," Dani pleaded, making my heart pound uncomfortably.

I yanked my hand away and snapped, "Like who? You?"

"Yes! Anybody but him," he shouted, throwing his hands in the air. He closed the distance between us and looked at my lips.

The silence stretched as I tried to process his words. Thoughts raced in my head, but I tried to stay composed.

"I care too much to let him ruin you, Isa." His urgency was clear. "No," Dani shook his head, eyes shining with a newfound confidence.

Irritation bubbled inside me, and I pressed my lips into a thin line. I knew where this was coming from and wanted none of it. Dani was crossing a line, and I was fed up with guys doing this to me when all I wanted was a fucking friend.

I shook my head. "Don't—"

My world tilted as he spoke again.

"I like you, Raisa."

Before I could react, Dani cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. His lips almost touched mine, and I saw red—this time not just from the neons above.

"What the fuck, Dani?" I shoved him away, shouting, my voice trembling with shock and fury.

My fist clenched, but a shadow moved swiftly, and Dani was on the floor, clutching his jaw before I could hit him.

"Get the fuck away from her," Rafael snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

Turning, he scanned me from head to toe before his gaze softened, but the intensity in his dark forest eyes remained. It was fascinating to see how his hazel eyes changed colors each time.

"You okay?" His voice was a rough whisper that brushed against my skin as he cupped my face.

Still in shock, I nodded slowly, my mind reeling from the sudden turn of events.

"What the hell?" Dani groaned, and he staggered back to his feet.

Touching his nose, he winced at the dark liquid on his finger. The red lights of the club made it look brown, but I knew it was blood. He looked up at Hamza, seething with anger like I never saw from him.

"I was just talking to my friend, asshole."

"Check your eyesight, 'cause your friend didn't look like she enjoyed talking to you." Hamza tilted his head in my direction.

From our first and last interaction, it was pretty clear that Rafael Hamza acted based on his own interests. He got me out of a dangerous situation only to drug me and make it worse. He threatened me like a maniac one minute, pinned me against walls the next, then dropped me home and disappeared. Yet, here he was, in all his dark glory, glaring at Dani with such scalding fury; it made my skin chill and my body shrivel. Why?

Why was he here? Why did he do this? He wasn't known for being a good Samaritan, yet he had helped me twice now.

Why, why, why?

I couldn't figure out the guy at all. What was clear, however, was that Hamza was not someone to mess with.

It wasn't just his reputation or his neighborhood I considered in my assessment, but the way he appeared like a shadow and punched Dani with perfect technique as if he had done it a million times before. How, if he'd wanted to, he could have knocked Dani out cold.

My friends were right. Hamza was dangerous. Yet, despite knowing all this, his presence beside me felt strangely comforting.

"Isa...?" Remembering I was still there, Dani ran over my face before noticing my clenched fists. His eyes widened, and he took a step back.

"I'm sorry, Isa, I—" Dani stammered, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. "I thought—"

"You thought wrong," I said, cutting Dani off. My voice was cold and sharp, and for a second, I almost sounded like Hamza.

"Isa..." Dani took a step towards me. "Let's just talk for a moment, yeah?" He tried with a pained smile, stretching his hand towards me. Black blood was running down his nose, and I almost pitied him. Almost.

Rafael's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in an effort to restrain his anger. I pulled away before Dani could touch me and take another punch from him.

"I think we're finished talking for tonight."

Looking between the two of us, Dani dropped his hand.

The music didn't stop even for a second, but with Hamza involved, it wouldn't have surprised me if the word spread from this side of the dance floor to the toilets and beyond. From the corner of my eye, I saw our friends approaching through the crowd. Biting the inside of my cheek, I switched my weight from one leg to the other. I had enough of their inquisition for the day.

The star of the night leaned in.

"You can join us." Hamza offered, jerking his chin toward his group, waiting behind us.

Caught in the heat of the moment, I didn't even register their presence until then. Glancing between them, I recognized Pixie and the two other guys who were at his place before.

I was about to do exactly what Laura told me not to, but she should've known better than throwing cheap warnings my way. I didn't listen to my own mother. I wasn't going to listen to Laura.

We were about to walk away when Dani grabbed my wrist. Behind him, Laura watched me with squinted eyes, her lips pursed in a tight line.

"Try grabbing her again, and I'll make sure to break your face, Devinescu." Hamza shook off Dani's hand, shoving him away in one smooth motion.

"Isa, please."

Dani's eyes were pleading, urging me to stay. I didn't. Instead, under my friends' shocked looks, I took Hamza's extended hand.

Feeling sort of sorry for leaving him after he got punched in the face, I spared Dani one last glance. But seeing Hamza's crooked grin as he took me to his group, I felt like I had just let the devil deceive me. There was no turning back tonight.

The crowd on the dancefloor seemed to forget they were there to part, parting like the red sea before Moses as Hamza and his friends walked through, taking me with them. 

A man waited for us by the bar.

His floral shirt, loose and open enough to show off a thick gold chain on his chest, gave off a laid-back, "I don't give a fuck" vibe and dark slacks ironed with military precision and leather loafers; he was hard to ignore.

The loud shirt, with its bright-ass flowers, shouldn't have worked with the pants. But on him? It did. A chunky signet ring flashed on his pinky, catching the light with every move, while a gold watch gleamed on his wrist. The guy was all class and kitschy flair before he even said a word.

He stretched out a hand toward Rafael, flashing a grin. The ring sparkled, showing off again. Rafael met him halfway, gripping his hand in a firm shake. The guy pulled him closer, patting his back.

"Glad you made it, man."

"I said I would." Hamza returned the smile.

He seemed more relaxed than I've ever heard or seen him. Which, in retrospect, wasn't much since I just met the guy.

Then the guy slid over to me, his lips curling in a smirk. "I see you brought a date. Would you care to present this pretty lady?"

Hamza just smirked, glancing at me over his shoulder, not even bothering to correct the "date" assumption. He told him my name without missing a beat.

"Nice to meet you, Raisa," the man said, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips like we were in some cheesy movie.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Hamza's jaw ticking

"Elvis," the guy finally introduced himself, dropping my hand. I couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"He's joking, right?" I half-whispered to Hamza.

Sure, Elvis had the flashy vibe to match the name, but for a second, I thought he was screwing with me. But Hamza just shook his head. Nobody laughed either, and I clamped my mouth shut.

Pixie leaned in. "Elvis co-owns the place," she whispered.

My jaw nearly hit the floor. I shot arrows at the devil who brought me here, but Hamza looked thoroughly entertained by my distress. The prick loved putting me in these awkward situations. If I didn't know the pervert liked it, I'd punch him for it.

Realizing that I could have offended the man in under a minute of our first meeting, I mentally facepalmed myself. Nice job, Raisa. Nice job. Thankfully, Elvis seemed more amused than offended.

"It's alright, pretty. My brothers got it worse," he reassured me with a warm smile. At least Mama dear didn't name me Ferrari*, though she had a thing for them." Elvis winked, and I couldn't help but snort.

Scooby clapped his hands, saving me the misery. "Now that introductions are covered, let's go have some fun."

Elvis smirked like he'd been waiting to hear that all along.

"Follow me."

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I'm sorry, guys, statistics are draining the soul outta me, and life is a little peach ATM, so all my plans got delayed. But I finally got to edit this chapter, too! It is not too long before new chapters roll in again. 🫶🏻