"To the bride!" The clinking sounds of multiple glasses fills the air, as we make a lovely toast with big smiles on our faces.

"To the long, lasting, and loving marriage!" Sam adds ceremoniously.

"To many babies to come!" Natasha fills in, making us chuckle delightedly

"And . . . to happiness!" Roshni finishes.

"Oh, thank you, girls!" I utter gratefully as we all sip our drinks.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Darcy!" Sam side-hugs me cheerfully and I can't deny that I'm having a blast of joy in my heart.

We're now inside one of the hottest nightclubs in Las Vegas, enjoying the girls-only moment after dancing as though I'm never going to dance again. It's my bachelorette party at last, and we have decided to have it separately from the guys as it was previously planned.

"Aren't we bringing those masculine stripers for her?" Natasha teases and starts laughing right away. She looks stunning in her silver, long-sleeved bodycon dress, her hair immaculate in a ponytail.

"No, please!" I object fiercely.

They burst into laughter.

"Oh, come on! Don't you want to kiss a random guy tonight?" Sam muses.

"Ew, Sam, no! I don't need to kiss any random guy. My Liam's lips taste heavenly and I definitely don't want to ruin it for some one-night-stand kiss from God-knows where those lips had touched before coming here," I blurt after a long chug of my champagne.

Jeez, I definitely don't need that shit.

"You're no fun, Kiki!" Sam reclines back in her seat, catching a breath. Her black swing dress makes her look sixteen until someone hears her talking. As always she's a beautiful creature that can pull about any kind of clothes.

"That I know. All I need is more drinks. Keep 'em coming, baby!" I pour another glass of champagne that's been lying inside the ice basket on the table.

"I think we might want to call Liam here." I overhear Sam whispering, talking to Roshni while staring at me.

"Why?" Roshni chuckles.

"She can get really violent when she gets drunk and none of us will be able to handle her."

I mentally huff. Sam thinks I can't hear her—but I'm very sober.

"Really?" Roshni squints her eyes at me, and I'm busy searching for my phone inside my clutch.

"Trust me, you don't want to see that happen." Sam sighs and suddenly snaps, "We agreed on no phones tonight!" She snatches my phone.

"What the fuck, Sam!" I groan loudly.

"Liam. Really?" Sam utters after checking on the screen. "Can't you survive without him for a few hours, Kiki?"

Do I need to? I'm just trying to know how things are going with him.

"Oh, come on! First you changed the plan without telling me, and now I can't even text my fiancé without being scolded?" I bewail.

"What for? To know if there's a chick sitting on his lap right now?" Sam breaks into a diabolic grin, taming my wildest imagination.

"Fuck, Sam, don't say that!" I down the chilly, sparkling liquid in my glass. Sam and Roshni laugh at my expense, eating the strawberries and green grapes in a large bowl. "I'll beat the hell of whoever sits on his lap!" I wipe my mouth and perhaps I'm getting slowly intoxicated.

"I'll be your sidekick, girl. No bitch should sit on our men's lap!" Natasha states, finally regarding us after throwing her phone back in her purse.

We high-five as she grabs her own drink.

"Ugh, I don't want to be in your place, I swear. Desperate housewives!" Sam mutters and she already looks tired—unlike the Sam I know.

Pregnancy has its perks, huh?

"My heels are killing me, guys," says Roshni, laughing at our conversation while grimacing from displeasure. She drops her gaze on her feet and adds, "I'm taking them off."

"Oh, why now? Is the size small?" Natasha asks, concerned.

"No, I just have a natural feud with heels," Roshni replies.

"I told you to wear wedges, but you chose Sam's advice," I recoil, taking the seventh round of champagne that's indeed started to take effect in my blood.

"Remind me to not do that again," Roshni mumbles and I think she's taking the shoes off.

"Okay, that's it! Why don't we get back to dancing?" Natasha yells when we hear a new beat blaring throughout the club. Like a sassy blonde she is, her body is radiantly wrapped into a little strapless dress in maroon color, a perfect match to her nails.

"Oh yeah! I thought we'd stay glued to the couches as if waiting for the chairman of the board to start the meeting!" Sam gets up, throwing my phone onto my lap. "Let's do the taki taki, taki taki . . ."

"Rumbaaa!" Natasha finishes, following through the song that's currently blazing.

"You coming, girls?" Sam asks me and Roshni.

"Go ahead, I think I'm still enjoying my drink." I make myself comfortable on the couch after grabbing my drink.

"Don't drink too much, Kiki!" Sam warns.

"Why not? It's my party, right?" I beam.

"Because I don't want the drunk you, maybe?" Sam utters, acting wiser than I've ever imagined her to be.

"Don't worry, I'll drink responsibly," I assure her with a smile.

"Please call Malik or Liam if you think she's getting high," Sam tells Roshni and I believe she's exaggerating.

"No problem. I'll be watching her." Roshni smiles sleepily.

"Cool. See ya!" Sam leaves right away, following Natasha.

Back to me, Roshni asks, "Are you okay?"

"Mh-yeah!" I nod, my head leaning lazily on the couch. However, my face seems to betray the masquerade I've been putting on as I sigh heavily. "I don't think I am," I confess in a very low voice—mirthless even.

"Hey!" Roshni shifts so we sit closer, her brown eyes worried. "Tell me, what's the matter?"

"I don't know." I huff a tiny laugh. I pull a sheet of tissue from the table and gently wipe my suddenly moist eyes.

Am I drunk for real?

Confusion runs across Roshni's face. "Don't tell me you're like this because Liam—"

"Because Liam is not here? Gosh, do I seem like a teenager now?" I'm amused by the assumption she made. "No, I'm not on that level yet."

"So then? Why crying on this beautiful night that's supposed to be your night?" She smiles fondly, staring at me.

"Maybe because it feels like a damn goodbye!" I blurt out, letting my eyes swim in the pool of tears. "I feel like . . . things are moving too fast, Roshni. It's just two months ago when I was a single girl—an ordinary woman who thought nothing about marriage. I had no time to feel insecure about anything, I had no anxiety just because some other woman is out there to get my man!" Thinking of Liam's ex always fills my head with terror.

"Are you affected by that woman? The one who came together with Malik's girlfriend . . . or whatever she is?" Roshni asks calmly, her tone distasteful, talking about Monique. "I could sense the tension between the two of you earlier today."

Was it that obvious? My subconscious sighs heavily.

"I'd be lying if I said I'm not," I reply matter-of-factly. "It's natural, right? I mean . . . she and Liam must've shared some things that are probably deeper and unforgettable. And the way she looks at him . . . it's as if things are still the same for her."

"But I'm positive they're not the same with Liam," says Roshni, "and that's the most important thing."

"I know." I bite my bottom lip, wishing I had the strong faith I want to keep. "I'm a little nervous, I guess. No, not a little; I'm really nervous. I'll soon be married, I'll have to move countries, and I'll have to leave all that I've known in my whole life behind."

"You mean Sam, right?"

"Among other things."

Roshni heaves a rueful sigh. "Yeah, it's sad, and I know how that feels. Leaving everything you consider dear to your heart and moving to someplace new can be very heartbreaking. I'm missing my siblings, and my mom . . . I miss home," she whispers softly, her smile nostalgic.

"Are they in Australia?" I'm a bit curious about this half-Indian goddess.

"Yes." Roshni reclaims her drink at last.

"Why did you accept this?" I croak without thinking twice, my eyes narrowed from the intensity of my own question. "Didn't you have a choice? I know you're not interested in this alliance—both you and Malik—but I don't understand why you agreed to it."

"My choices were limited," Roshni states. "I had to accept it, Kira. And it's not because I'm a submissive woman who can't stand up for herself, no. I can very well stand up against my tyrant father, but other people were involved in this; the people I love and care about, so I had to accept. I'm not sure how it's going to end, though, as I'm not really planning on getting married."

"I understand," I reply, not wanting to impose as it's evident that Roshni is not ready to fully open up. "However, whatever your reasons may be, I hope you and Malik will work things out."

I can't believe I said that.

"What do you mean?" Roshni huffs a small laugh.

I flush. "I mean, you can use this chance to get to know each other, while thinking of a way to get out of it, and maybe you'll eventually find the solution to your shared problem."

And maybe fall in love.

"I don't know." Roshni sighs and sips her drink.

I think she knows what I mean and perhaps she no longer finds Malik a stranger. I'm not fond of playing matchmaker but I can tell when there's a heat of attraction between two souls—and there's definitely a strong one between these two.

"Malik is a very nice guy," I continue. "A noble heart that I've never seen before. I really wish for him to be happy, with a very nice woman who'll love and appreciate him. A woman who's not that witch!"

"That witch?" Roshni laughs, looking momentarily thoughtful, until she immediately catches on. "You mean that Monique?" Her eyes shimmer with delight.

"Yeah. I don't like her!" I say truthfully.

"Me neither," Roshni confesses, and it's all that I wanted to hear.

We don't drag the conversation further as I realize that the champagne is over.

"How about another drink? My best part of clubbing is staying at the bar with my cocktail, watching people making their weird dance moves," I suggest with a grin.

"Aren't you done drinking? You had plenty already," Roshni quizzes.

"No, I'm still good. Just one more drink won't take me down." I get up and fix my dress.

"Just one, okay?" Roshni rises up.

"Sure." I roll my eyes. "No wonder Sam used to bark at me whenever I said that."

Laughing, we advance towards the bar. Jostling through a number of people shaking their bodies, or holding their drinks, if not kissing under the dim lights, we do nothing but giggle until we finally sit on the only empty bar stools available at the counter.

Jeez, are these people born to party or what? The club is literally full.

Suddenly the sound of the DJ echoes throughout, making the cloud go wild at the mention of whatever he is announcing, followed by the blast of harmless smoke and bluish LED ribbons. The atmosphere turns into a diamond-like ambiance, cheerful noise everywhere.

"What's up, Cuties. Anything special?" A charming blonde regards us after sliding a couple of drinks to other customers at the speed of a light.

"Apple Martini." I'm shaking my head in response to the music. "Make them two," I instruct.

"Yes, little bird," a male voice interrupts. Roshni and I cock our heads toward the right side, where a bald guy is standing right beside me. "Looking hot, Curly. So, how about we go somewhere private, huh? You, me, this gorgeous here and my buddies! We could really use some beautiful company in our VIP lair."

"Yeah!" two more guys cheer, making me release a heavy breath, my eyes rolling in annoyance that I put no effort to conceal.

First, the name Curly feels wrong coming from his filthy mouth, and second, they just make me sick right now.

"What do you say?" the bald one insists, sliding his hand about my waist.

"I swear if you don't get your filthy hand off my waist, I'm going to shove it in your ass," I mutter with menace, and in a second the hand is gone.

"Woah!" they all gasp in unison, followed by a ridiculous laughter.

"Uh, feisty, huh?" the bald asks me, licking his lip.

Breathe, Kira Jones! I remind myself as anger builds up at the memory of being touched without my consent.

"Let's leave," Roshni suggests while dropping off the stool.

"You're right," I reply, ignoring the stupid guy who's busy talking nonsense. "I wonder where Sam and Natasha—"

"Hey, girls, we've been looking all over for you." Sam's voice reaches my ears, and I'm eternally grateful that we don't need to search all over the club for two blondes.

"Oh, there's a bombshell here!" The raven-haired dude, one of the other two, sets his eyes on Sam.

"It's two of them, Ricky!" the other one remarks, staring at Natasha from her thighs to her chest.

Assholes!

"Perhaps you'd consider picking your eyeballs from the floor," Natasha tells him sternly. "Your eyes are disgusting!"

"And who are you, freaks?" Sam asks, her eyes shifting from the first to the last.

"Don't mind them; I think we are done!" I get out of my seat. "Why don't we leave? I think I'm done with this night," I tell Sam.

The bald holds my arm as I try to move. "Chill out, Curly," he whispers, leaning over to sniff my hair.

"Fuck off!" I pull away briskly.

"We just want to get to know you girls. What's the fuss about, huh?" He holds me once again.

"I said fuck off!" I repeat sternly.

"And if I don't fuck off, what will you do, girly?" He smirks.

You seriously don't want to know, idiot!

"I'll do this!" I briskly grab his arm and in a second he's flipped onto the ground. He groans like a sissy. "I told you not to touch me!" I'm panting heavily, thanking my future husband for insisting that I should take three weeks of self-defense classes.

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