Chapter 2 - CALIFORNIA DREAMS: THE RED ROOM

After the familiar hum of the car ride back to my penthouse, the city lights flickering like ghosts in the rearview mirror, I felt an unsettling restlessness. The penthouse, with its sweeping views and cold, empty spaces, did little to comfort me. My mother’s death had left a void that even the most luxurious surroundings couldn’t fill. As I stared out at the twinkling lights of the city below, I made a decision. I wasn’t going to sit here and let the darkness consume me. Not tonight.

I left the comfort of my penthouse and headed back to the club, but this time I drove myself. The act of driving, of being in control, was strangely liberating. The city seemed to pulse with life as I navigated the streets, each turn a reminder that I was still here, still capable of moving forward.

The club’s facade loomed ahead, a beacon of distraction and escape. I parked my car and walked through the entrance, the familiar sounds and scents enveloping me like a second skin. I made my way up to the secluded lounge area, a place where I could observe without being pulled into the chaotic whirlpool below.

I ordered a whiskey, neat, and settled into one of the plush chairs. The first sip burned its way down, grounding me in the present moment. I let my eyes wander over the scene, the dancing bodies, the flashing lights, the ebb and flow of conversation.

That’s when I saw her.

She was standing at the edge of the dance floor, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves, catching the light in a way that made it seem almost ethereal. But it was her eyes that truly captivated me—deep, clear blue eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets and stories. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something more, something that drew me in and made it impossible to look away.

For a moment, hesitation gripped me. The weight of my mother’s death still sat heavy in my chest, a constant reminder of loss and grief. But I could almost hear her voice, gentle yet firm, urging me not to let the sorrow consume me. She wouldn’t want that. She’d want me to live, to find moments of joy amidst the pain.

I took another sip of my whiskey, the liquid courage I needed to silence my doubts. I told myself that I wasn’t going to be held down by grief forever. Tonight, I was going to reclaim a piece of myself. With a deep breath, I stood up and made my way towards her.

As I approached, she turned slightly, and our eyes met. There was a spark there, a flicker of recognition or curiosity. I offered a small, hesitant smile, hoping it conveyed a confidence I wasn’t entirely sure I felt.

“Hey,” I said, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the thumping bass.

She astonished for a moment before she smiled back, a warm, inviting smile that reached her eyes. “Hello,” she replied, her voice soft and melodic, cutting through the noise like a balm.

I felt a knot of tension ease in my chest. This was right. This was what I needed. “Can I buy you a drink?” I asked, gesturing towards the bar.

She nodded, her smile widening. “I’d like that.”

We walked over to the bar, the noise of the club fading into the background as I focused on her. As we ordered our drinks, the initial awkwardness began to melt away. She was engaging and witty, her presence a welcome distraction from the shadows that had been haunting me.

But then again, I kind of felt bad for her..... It was a rare feeling. I just wanted a fuck, nothing more. I don't keep women around me, and she other hand..... Well, I don't know.

After a couple of drinks, I leaned a little closer to her, noting the way her scent wrapped around me—vanilla and something else softer, intoxicating. "So, do you enjoy immersing yourself in the darker side of nightlife?" I asked, my curiosity piqued, wanting to know the woman behind the smile.

Her eyebrow raised, mischievous. "Depends on what you mean by 'darker.'"

I savored the moment, feeling bold. "There’s a private suite in the club not too far from here. It’s called the Red Room. It’s… exclusive." I met her gaze, unflinching. "I was wondering if you’d like to join me there."

The air between us thickened, charged with something unspoken. I could see the flicker of contemplation in her eyes, the way her breath caught just a moment longer than before. The laugh lines around her eyes softened, morphing into a vibrant curiosity. "What’s so special about the Red Room?"

“Well,” I said, leaning even closer, my voice a low murmur. “It's a place where inhibitions can be tossed aside, where you can surrender completely to desire. Just the two of us, away from the crowd."

Her cheeks flushed, an enticing mixture of surprise and intrigue. I could feel the energy shifting, sparking like electric currents between us. I held my breath, letting the moment linger, searching her expression for any sign of doubt. All I saw was consideration.

After a beat that seemed to stretch into eternity, she tilted her head slightly, a subtle smile curling on her lips as she leaned forward her chest coming in contact with mine making me feel her nipple from her flimsy clothing material. "Alright. I’ll go with you."

Lena's POV

The Los Angeles air felt different from New York's—drier, buzzing with a different energy. I took a deep breath, trying to suck in some of that famous California optimism. So far, it wasn't working. Three weeks, fifteen interviews, and countless variations of "You're overqualified," or "We're looking for someone with more experience in..." Experience. Right. Because being a successful, highly organized executive assistant for five years in the cutthroat world of Manhattan real estate meant I couldn't handle scheduling meetings for some tech bro.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from my increasingly bitter thoughts. Another rejection email. This one was particularly insulting, suggesting I might be "happier in a smaller role." I scoffed, shoving the phone back into my purse. Screw 'em. I was Lena Vargas, and I didn't shrink myself for anyone.

Still, the sting of rejection was getting old. I needed a distraction, a break from obsessing over job boards and LinkedIn updates. Scanning through a local events app, I saw a listing for a club called "Sin".

A wave of exhaustion washed over me. Clubs? Really? But the alternative was another night alone in my temporary apartment, dissecting every syllable of every interview. So much for that California fresh start.

Sin was pulsing, the air thick with bodies and the throbbing bassline of some EDM track. The club was expensive to get into, but I still paid, I was somewhat frustrated from everything. I staked out a spot at the bar, feeling out of place but determined to at least have one drink. The bartender, sensing my unease, gave me a sympathetic smile.

“First time here?” he asked, his voice barely audible above the music.

“First time in LA,” I admitted, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly self-conscious.

He nodded, understandingly. “Takes some getting used to. What can I get you?”

I ordered a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, my go-to "trying-to-look-confident-but-actually-terrified" drink. As I took a sip, trying to ignore the stares of a group of overly-tanned guys in identical button-downs.

I decided to walk out to the dance floor a little bit, not exactly knowing why I was going, I felt a presence behind me.

Turning, I looked up, way up, into the most captivating green eyes I’d ever seen. They belonged to a man who could only be described as devilishly handsome. Tall, with artfully tousled brown hair, a five-o-clock shadow that should have been illegal, and a smile that promised both heaven and hell.

“Hey” His voice was a low rumble but high enough to hear over the music, sending a shiver down my spine. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. All I could do was stare.

I had to respond, immediately. “Hello” I replied with a warm, and inviting smile.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked gesturing towards the bar I just came from and I nodded a “I would like that” my smile widening, but not enough to make me look creepy.

After a talking about random stuff and a couple of drinks, he leaned a little closer to me, "So, do you enjoy immersing yourself in the darker side of nightlife?" He asked,

My eyebrow raised, mischievously. "Depends on what you mean by 'darker.'"

"There’s a private suite in the club not too far from here. It’s called the Red Room. It’s… exclusive." He said meeting my gaze, unflinching. His beautiful eyes burning into mine "I was wondering if you’d like to join me there."

Okay now I was curious "What’s so special about the Red Room?" I asked

“Well,” he said, leaning even closer, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down my spine but not in a dangerous way. “It's a place where inhibitions can be tossed aside, where you can surrender completely to desire. Just the two of us, away from the crowd."

My cheeks flushed, an enticing mixture of surprise and intrigue. I could feel the energy shifting, sparking like electric currents between us. I was hesitant, I'm new to this city and I don't even know this man but he is about to fuck me.

After weighing out my options, I tilted my head slightly, a subtle smile curling on my lips as I leaned forward into his hard chest my nipples grazing him. "Alright. I’ll go with you." Taking note of the smile that appeared on his lips.

I was about to get fucked by a devilishly handsome, green eyed stranger from a city I wasn't born in and I'm a virgin.