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Delilah

With a pounding heart, Delilah flung open the taxi door and walked onto the cracked pavement, feeling the nighttime air's coolness hit her body. Her brow furrowed as she peered at the street and took in the austere façade of the brick building ahead. Splotches of graffiti splattered across the neighboring abandoned shops appeared to drain the vibrancy from the scenery, sending a shiver down her spine.

She murmured to herself, "Is this really the place I am supposed to meet Phoebe?" and looked at the glowing streetlight as if it could help her feel better. "Iron Horse" stuck in her head like a stubborn itch; it had to be the correct location, yet the vibe felt more foreboding than festive.

As she turned back to watch the cab disappear into the shadows, a gust of wind cut through her coat, sending a jolt of ice along her skin. She hugged her arms tighter, feeling exposed in her sleek outfit─a stark contrast to the gritty surroundings.

The building's music beat pumped, getting louder with each tentative step she took toward the huge metal doors that looked like they led to another world. Her thoughts flashed of a dazzling dance floor and laughing customers with each step. Now, Delilah was about to enter something different. It felt more like an underground rave scene from a movie than the lively night out she'd imagined with her friend.

As she approached the club, the heavy doors swung open, revealing a pulsating world of lights and sound. A tall, pale figure loomed just inside the foyer, his eyes locking onto her with an intensity that made her skin prickle. It was a gaze that felt too predatory, too hungry, like a wolf sizing up its next meal.

"You can check in your coat and scarf over there," he said, his voice smooth and laced with something unsettling as he continued to watch her.

She walked away from him and hurried to the coat check, where a lady waited behind a counter, her cheerful grin in sharp contrast to the man's disturbing stare. While the woman's bold makeup was somewhat excessive for Delilah's preference, it was a relief that she didn't appear to be scrutinizing her with a lingering gaze.

"Just slip your ID inside your right pocket," the attendant ordered, her cheery tone softening as her bright blue eyes surveyed Delilah with a blend of friendliness and professionalism. "When you come back for it, we can identify the owner."

"Oh. Sure," Delilah replied, her eyes drifting to the inviting atmosphere of the club.

It was more cozier than she expected, with plush chairs and ambient lighting making her feel comfortable and urging her to take off her coat despite the cold outside.

She paused to admire her reflection in a polished surface. The white dress she had chosen clung to her curves, a daring choice for a night out. It was new─untested territory for her─but it felt like the best option, given the lack of nightlife in her hometown. However, seeing other customers' stylish clothes made her question herself. Had she chose the right style?

Delilah turned back to meet another customer's piercing gaze, now transformed into a wide grin that cut through the dim lighting, its sincerity feeling out of place. The smile didn't reach the man's eyes; instead, they glinted with a desire that sent a fresh wave of unease washing over her.

"How about I buy you a drink?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with interest as they met hers.

"I'm meeting my girlfriend," she replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask than a genuine expression. The words tumbled out as she glanced around, her heart quickening. "I prefer not to keep her waiting."

The man's lips curled into a sneer, his disappointment palpable in the air between them. He turned away, his posture rigid, but his eyes remained glued to her, an unsettling watchfulness that made the back of her neck prickle.

Delilah felt her irritation boiling. She accelerated her pace as she moved deeper into the club, feeling a slight sense of relief with each step she took away from him. The sharp click of her heels echoed around her, but the pulsating music swallowed the sound as she stepped into the expansive room ahead.

A disco ball hung from the ceiling, its light illuminating the dance floor like stars in the night sky. The rhythm reverberated through the air, with laughter and shouts weaving through the room. Tables lined the walls, filled with groups of people, as the dance floor pulsed with bodies moving to the beat, carefree and immersed in the moment.

Couples cuddled in corners, engaged in their own worlds, creating a romantic ambiance. Phoebe had insisted they meet here, despite it not being Delilah's ideal waiting spot. She scanned the upper level, searching for a familiar face.

"You made it!" a voice rang out, breaking through her thoughts. A flicker of relief warmed her as she spotted her friend waving from a cozy nook.

Delilah joined Phoebe on the plush sofa and watched the lively scene below. The dance floor was a kaleidoscope of colorful lights and rhythmic movement.

"Wow, this place is something else!" Phoebe shouted, her voice barely piercing through the bass. The excitement in her eyes lit up her face. "I can't figure out why people come here. Anton recommended it to me!"

Delilah smiled with relief. Knowing she wasn't alone in feeling a little lost in the electric atmosphere that seemed to swallow them whole provided comfort.

"How did your meeting go?" she asked, leaning closer, her voice almost drowned out by the throbbing music.

Phoebe's expression shifted, her shoulders drooped, and she let out a heavy groan. "Ugh, awful. Collecting money from some of the buyers is exhausting. They believe they can undercut Mr. King simply because he allows them to handle a tab. That's unacceptable."

Delilah's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her mind racing to grasp the weight of Phoebe's words. "Did they pay their bill?"

Phoebe reached for her amber drink, sipping just a little as her eyes darted across the audience. "It took some convincing. I have a strong feeling that one of the clients will express their negative opinions about me to the owner."

"Are you worried?"

Phoebe shook her head, a confident smile breaking through. "Nope," she declared, her tone light. "We immediately let go of the last client who attempted to cheat the bill. Mr. King isn't a fan of that sort of behavior."

Delilah didn't know much about Aiden, except that he was the kind of businessman who understood the value of loyalty and respect─traits rare in the corporate world. She smiled at the thought that he would always support his employees, even in impossible situations.

"I hope it's okay that we met up here," Phoebe murmured, looking around as the music rose. "I had a little errand to do before you arrived, but I expected it to be more than this since everyone talks about it so much!" She shrugged, her adventurous spirit undeterred.

The pulsing bass and flashing lights surrounded them, but a quiet unease flickered beneath Phoebe's smile. Delilah's heart sank as she wrestled with the realization: her friend wasn't thrilled being in a place like this.

"I take it that clubs aren't your thing?" Delilah ventured, a hint of concern in her voice.

Phoebe wrinkled her nose, the corners of her mouth twitching as if to erase the noise around them. "I enjoy jazz clubs," she admitted. "They're quieter, not drowning in wild dancers." A determined glint sparked in her eyes. "But hey, let's make the most of tonight and have fun. Next time, how about coffee or a movie?"

Delilah's heart danced at the thought, a wide smile breaking across her face. The idea was soothing, enveloping her in a sense of warmth in the presence of her new friend.

Phoebe suddenly sat up straight and looked across the room at something or someone. Delilah followed her friend's eyes, spotting a striking figure slipping into the VIP section. The pale man had an enigmatic allure, his red eyes cutting through the crowd like a beacon.

"Do you know him?" She wondered whether he was part of Phoebe's world.

Her friend shook her head and slammed her glass down with a burst of energy. "Let us go get some cosmos and hit the dance floor!" Phoebe flashed a playful smile. "Let's make these men worship the ground we walk on!"

Delilah saw Phoebe's gaze lingering on the attractive man, but she remained silent, feeling a change in her friend's mood. She nodded, sensing the infectious excitement ignite between them as they headed to the bar.

When Phoebe reached the counter, she hesitated and turned to Delilah with a small grin. "Why don't you have a drink? I'm going to the restroom since my bladder is killing me."

"Sure." 

Phoebe hurried away, leaving Delilah to ponder the chaos that was about to unfold in the night. The lights above glittered like stars, and all she could think of was the prospect of a refreshing drink. She couldn't help but grin at the bartender as she leaned against the counter, watching him serve drinks with precision.

"Cosmo, please," she chimed, her anticipation bubbling over.

"The drink's on me," a voice purred from beside her, smooth and deep like dark chocolate, sending a shiver down her spine.

Turning, Delilah found Draven standing there, every bit as striking as she remembered. His playful grin ignited a warmth in her cheeks that she couldn't quite suppress.

He smiled and asked, "How did you find out about this place?"

At that moment, the bartender smoothly slid her drink in her direction, the glass sparkling beneath the club's strobe lights. Draven's smile broadened as he held her gaze, and she couldn't escape the sensation that there was more to him than what initially appeared.

"You know, there truly's nothing more alluring than free-spirited people," he continued, his voice like silk wrapping around her thoughts. "I'm here for business and ran into you."

With a hint of skepticism, Delilah arched an eyebrow. She took a sip and enjoyed how the strong flavors danced on her tongue.

"Do antique dealers conduct their business in clubs? Or whatever your job entails?" She shot back, intrigued but apprehensive.

His laughter radiated warmth and invitation, igniting a flutter in her heart. "This dealer is different." He winked, leaving a trail of questions in his wake.

The thought of Draven being involved in something shady lingered in her mind, like a persistent shadow.

Delilah looked around at the crowd, who moved rhythmically to the music and laughed. She couldn't see Phoebe, and the thought of navigating this sea of people alone made her uncomfortable. She took another sip of her drink, feeling the warmth of the alcohol wash over her.

"White looks lovely on you," Draven said, his gaze sweeping over her like a caress. "You're almost like an angel. Aiden's... angel."

Delilah ran her fingers over the fabric of her dress, and the idea of how uncomfortable it was vanished as he stared at her. She still grappled with how the fitted silhouette accentuated her curves more than she had intended, but for a moment, she let herself bask in Draven's compliment.

"This was a gift from my cousin," she replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice the moment Liz's name almost escaped her lips.

"Do you have a close relationship with her?" he probed, curiosity evident in his eyes.

Delilah shook her head, the briefest flash of hurt crossing her features. Setting her empty glass down, she forced a lighthearted tone.

"Nope. Liz and my ex-boyfriend hooked up while we were together, which is why I moved to Denver." A wave of nostalgia hit her, but she collected herself by thinking about the good things about her cousin. "She takes pictures all over the world for a living. She sends me fun things every once in a while that she thinks will look good on me. Hence, this dress."

As they stood there, the music pulsing around them, Delilah felt the weight of her past lifting, if only for a moment, beneath the charm of the man beside her.

She caught a brief glimpse of something sorrowful in Draven's eyes, a shadow that suggested untold stories. The way he spoke, with a tinge of that Southern drawl she had noted earlier, made her wonder whether he was from New Orleans' bustling streets.

"Liz made a fantastic choice," he remarked, his subtle grin hinting at a deeper insight. "Garments from varied areas each tell a distinct story. Despite her treachery, she couldn't have picked a finer dress."

Heat flooded Delilah's cheeks, creeping up her neck with the weight of his words. His appreciation was like sunlight in a dark room, and even though she knew he had a keen eye for fashion, it made her feel good.

"Would you do me the honor of a dance?" Draven asked, his gaze steady and sincere, anchoring her amidst the swirling crowd. "Don't worry, I assure you, my interests are with someone else. He's not here tonight."

A flicker of curiosity flashed through her as she recalled the unspoken connection between him and Merrick from the previous night. She hesitated, but just as she began to shake her head, he clasped her hand, his grip gentle yet insistent, leading her toward the gleaming dance floor.

"This dress deserves its moment to shine," Draven insisted, casting a look at the crowd. "Besides, a dance with me would distract the creatures in here from staring at you like you're supper."

Her laughter rose, reflecting her cousin's lively attitude. "Alright, but only until Phoebe returns from the restroom."

His wide grin illuminated the room. "As you wish, Ms. Fox."

As they moved to the soothing rhythm of the music, the graceful melody enveloped them like a tender hug. Delilah enjoyed this slower pace, the quiet intimacy of the dance─none of the loud grinding that previously surrounded them.

"So, how long have you and Mr. King been in business together?" she pondered, twirling under her partner's careful guidance.

Draven's expression shifted, a thoughtful sigh escaping his lips. "A few years, but Aiden? He's a challenging man to work with, a true lone wolf," he said, his smirk betraying a note of camaraderie.

She laughed, fueled by interest and booze. "You've got that right."

Since the other night, the image of Aiden as a wolf lingered in her thoughts, a tantalizing blend of reality and fantasy that refused to fade. She was certain that the alcohol wasn't deceiving her. With a resolve settling in her chest, she decided to keep that secret locked away until Aiden was ready to unveil it himself.

Delilah glanced up at Draven, sensing the pause in their conversation. "What?" she asked, curiosity piquing at his sudden scrutiny.

He examined her closely, squinting as though searching the very depths of her soul. "Fascinating. You're special, Ms. Fox. It's time we uncover what you truly are."

Her stomach twisted, tightening with doubt, as she swallowed hard. The evening was just beginning, and a thrill of excitement coursed through her.

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