Song for the chapter is Crazy in Love. Feel free to give this sexy cover a listen.

Damian, Jessica, Taisley, and I saunter by the hostess and enter the night club. Taisley didn't even need to show her membership ID. One look at the Bishop heiress was all it took to get us in.

Neon lights shine around me, creating a purple and blue ambiance on the crowded dance floor. People of all ages move to an upbeat techno song, their bodies grinding against each other in a way that makes me cringe.

If I step on that floor and anyone I don't know touches me, I'm leaving.

"Drinks?" Taisley offers, nodding toward the bar.

"Could I get a sprite?" Damian asks.

"Same for me," Jessica adds, linking her arm through Damian's.

"I'll come with you, Tais," I offer, wanting to give Damian and Jessica a few minutes of alone time.

"Thanks, girl." The redhead grabs my hand and leads me toward the bar. She cuts the line, leans on the counter, and bats her mascara-laden lashes at the bartender.

"What's your poison tonight, Taisley?" he asks, eyeing her up and down like an animal on the prowl.

"Two rum and cokes," she answers, "and two sprites."

"Oh, I'm not thirsty," I say quickly. I still don't drink. One bad experience was all it took to keep me sober.

"Yes, you are," Taisley replies with a theatrical roll of her eyes. "One drink won't kill you."

I bite my tongue. Arguing with Taisley is pointless. She always gets her way.

The bartender pours our beverages. Without paying, Taisley takes the drinks, and we return to our friends.

I sip my rum and coke slowly. Already, I can feel a buzz setting in. Next to me, Taisley has devoured the contents of her glass, but she seems unfazed. In the race against drunkenness, she's winning.

"Layla, what's in your cup?" Damian whispers, eyeing my adult beverage.

I ignore the judgment in his tone and shake my head. "Nothing. Just coke."

"I can smell the booze."

"That must be Taisley's."

"You're a terrible liar. Switch with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Take my soda," he insists. "Remember the last time you got drunk? It didn't end well, and you know it."

I recall my sixteenth birthday and cringe. Damian is right—that was a horrible day. I got wasted off of two glasses of wine and almost told Jose the entirety of my tragic life story. To make a bad night worse, Damian had to put my wasted self to bed.

Begrudgingly, I hand him my half-empty glass. He downs it in two gulps and gives me his untouched sprite, as well as a signature Damian smile.

"Thank you," he says.

"Yeah, yeah." I shrug him off, eager to change to subject.

"Time to dance!" Taisley squeals. She takes my hand and drags me toward the floor, where everyone is still trying to have sex with their clothes on.

I shoot Damian and Jessica a weary glance. Jessica's hazel eyes look like pools of honey beneath the retro lights. She's stunning. Based on the way Damian stares at her, he must notice it, too.

"I love you," I hear him whisper.

"I love you, too," she responds, gazing up at him with a megawatt grin on her face.

Taisley makes a face like she is going to throw up. "Ugh, disgusting. You guys coming or not?"

I inhale as I roll my shoulders back. This is so not my scene.

Across the dance floor, I see a familiar face. Zane. In a black dress shirt with dark denim jeans, he looks like a runway model. His cocoa eyes meet mine, and a smile tugs at his lips. Without thinking, I let go of Taisley's hand and push my way through the crowd.

"You're here," I announce, almost bumping into him.

He grabs my shoulders to steady me, but he doesn't let go right away. His fingers linger on my exposed skin, giving me goosebumps.

"I thought you hated this place."

"I do," he says, and I can tell he means it. "But I was worried about you, so I figured I'd tag along."

I arch my brows. "Worried?"

"My step-sister likes to play games," he explains, "and something tells me that you and your friends are her new favorite toys."

My body is suddenly on fire. I gulp down the entirety of Damian's soda, grateful for the cooling sensation is provides.

"Thirsty?" Zane chuckles.

"A little bit."

"Let me buy you another drink."

I wrap my fingers around his bicep. Together, we walk to the bar.

<><><><><><>

"Have you ever been in the VIP room?" I ask, resting my arm against the back of the sofa. My other hand sits carefully on Zane's knee.

I don't know how long I've been alone with him. My friends are probably looking for me, but the two drinks Zane has bought me make it hard to care.

"No, I never have," he admits. "Why? You wanna see it?"

"Kind of," I reply. "I mean, I work here, yet I've never been inside. Isn't that sort of peculiar?"

"Honestly, no. The Bishops are... private people."

"Are they hiding something?"

"I'm sure they have a dark secret or two."

I slide my hand farther up his leg. "What about you, Zane? Any 'dark secrets' I should know about?"

With the alcohol came a boost of confidence. I feel bolder and more brazen than I've ever been. I'm unstoppable. Right now, I could do anything.

Except the only thing I really want to do is Zane.

His dark eyes glisten with mischief. "Keep touching me like that," he warns, "and I'm gonna have to take you somewhere private and—"

I cut him off with a kiss. I slam my lips against his, wrapping my arms around his neck. He tastes like cigarettes, vodka, and cherries, but I love it. I can't get enough.

He kisses me harder, our tongues tangled together. I feel his fingers on my thigh as he slowly pushes up the fabric of my dress.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "I've been wanting to do this since I saw you playing fucking tarot cards with my sister."

"Then why didn't you? I wouldn't have stopped you," I tease.

"Oh, you absolutely would have."

"No, I would—"

My stomach flips, leaving my sentence unfinished. I feel queasy, like I'm going to vomit. Around me, the room spins. The last time I felt this way was right before I fainted at school.

"Too much to drink?" Zane asks.

"I don't know. I don't... I don't feel that drunk," I say, which is true. I'm definitely not sober, but I'm still in control of my actions. I'm not sloppy.

"You look like you're about to be sick. Do you wanna get some air?"

"No, I don't think I should move."

I don't think I could move. The room is spiraling around me. I can barely keep my eyes open, never mind stand. All I want to do is close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

"Layla, you're scaring me," Zane mutters.

"I'll... I'll be fine," I assure him.

A sinister thought creeps into my head. I've read about girls who go to bars and have something slipped in their drink. I'm not unfamiliar with roofies, the date rape drug. All it takes is a naïve girl and a boy with bad intentions.

I turn to Zane. He wouldn't... would he?

"I need to find Damian," I declare, rising to my feet, only for gravity to bring me back down to the sofa.

"You just said you couldn't move. Here, let me help you," Zane says.

"I'm fine," I insist, desperate to get away from him.

"You're not fine. Just let me help you."

"No, don't touch me!" I cry, pulling away from him. If he did this to me, then I don't want to be alone with him.

To my surprise, he listens. Almost immediately, he backs away.

"Layla, there you are!" Through the cobwebs, I see Damian sprinting toward me, Jessica and Taisley in tow. "Where have you been?" His gaze hardens as he looks Zane up and down. "And who the hell is this guy?"

"That's my Neanderthal of a step-brother," Taisley answers.

"Damian, take me home," I beg my best friend.

"Of course. What's wrong?"

"I don't... I don't feel well."

Damian glares at Zane. "Did you do something to her?"

Zane shakes his head. "I swear to god, I didn't."

"We're here. You're going to be alright," Jessica promises, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and helping me stand. "You should eat something. Let's go to Gabby's."

"Ooh, I'd kill for some cherry pie," Taisley says, rubbing her flat stomach. "Zane, you're not invited. Go crawl back into your cave where you belong."

"If you did anything to her, you're gonna be sorry," Damian threatens Zane. "For your sake, you better hope she's okay."

"Layla, I wouldn't do that to you," Zane says, looking only at me and ignoring the three other pairs of eyes that are glaring at him. There's a sincerity in his voice that makes me believe him.

But I can't shake how I feel right now, how I went from a fortress of poise and confidence to a crumbling tower after being hit by a storm. My body is a weight that I can't carry on my own.

Tonight was supposed to be a good night. Why does nothing ever go according to plan?

A/N:
Did Zane drug her, or is he not that "bad" of a bad boy?
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