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ADIRA

Author: Phy Duneiz
last update Last Updated: 2025-01-25 02:16:29

I think we should go clubbing later tonight,” Penny declared, her voice light and breezy.

I stared at her, fork hovering mid-air above my third plate of kleftiko, utterly dumbfounded.

“Clubbing?” I repeated, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

My cousin’s tiny frame belied the force of her personality. Her black hair shimmered under the soft light, and her brown eyes sparkled with barely contained mischief. Mischief, it seemed, was aimed directly at me today.

Having arrived at the family home in Mykonos from Athens a mere five hours ago, I had envisioned a serene afternoon by the pool. Catching up with Penny had been the plan—relaxing, low-effort, completely free of stress. Her idea was a sharp divergence from my completely chill plan.

Penny leaned forward, her determination practically radiating from her pores. “Yes. Clubbing. Why not?”

Good question. Why not?

I stuffed another piece of lamb into my mouth, hoping to evade her question. Should’ve known that’ll never work on her.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Penny rolled her eyes, undeterred. She slid closer, her gaze fixed on my plate.

Hell no.

“Touch my plate, and I’ll throw you into the pool. Eyeliner and all,” I warned, pointing my fork at her like a weapon.

She stopped mid-reach, smiled sweetly, and shook her head. “Addy, you can’t hide behind that plate forever. We’re going, and that’s final.”

According to my constitutional rights, I absolutely could refuse.

With a theatrical sigh, I handed over the plate, gazing longingly at my unfinished meal.

“I came here to escape the madness of New York, and you’re dragging me headfirst into its Mediterranean equivalent. My sanity is already hanging by a thread, Penny.” I retorted with a pout on my lips.

She smirked. “Oh, relax. It’s just a little fun. And isn’t it too early to complain?”

“It’s 2 p.m.,” I argued, gathering my things. “Isn’t it too early to prepare for a club?”

That’s when it hit me.

“Shit.”

“What?” Penny asked, her brows furrowing.

“I forgot to call Mama and Baba!” I bolted inside, racing toward my wing of the house.

Why was this house so unnecessarily huge?

After a sprint that felt like a marathon, I reached my room and grabbed my phone, dialing my dad. Despite the time difference, I knew he’d answer my call.

He answered on the second ring as expected, launching into a good-natured lecture about my forgetfulness. Mama was in the background, lamenting about how I almost gave her a heart-attack.

Dramatic much, I thought with an eye-roll.

By the time I’d finished chatting with both parents, I collapsed onto my bed, face-first into the pillows, utterly drained.

Penny appeared in the doorway, her brown eyes wide and pleading.

“Nope.” My muffled voice came from the depths of the pillow.

“I’ll buy you more of those flaming chips you like,” she offered slyly.

Damn it. My weakness.

Is she bribing me? Yes. Would I accept the bribe? Uh… Duh. We’re talking about the world’s best snack after chocolate, people.

Peeking out from behind the pillow, I gave her a reluctant nod. She squealed with delight, pouncing onto the bed with the energy of a golden retriever. Her excitement was contagious, and before long, I was laughing along with her.

“Ooooh, I’m going to have so much fun dressing you up!” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable.

********************************

“Penny, if you keep plucking my eyebrows, I’ll have none left!” I protested, wincing as she wielded the tweezers like a weapon.

“Hush,” she scolded, swatting my hands away. “Beauty takes time.”

“You said that three hours ago!” I groaned, but one look at her withering glare shut me up.

“And... done!” she announced triumphantly.

Finally.

I glanced at the mirror and had to admit: she was good. “Okay, fine. You win this round.”

“I told you to trust the process,” Penny said smugly, tossing the tweezers onto the vanity.

Turning, I surveyed the stream of clothes strewn across my room—a battlefield from our quest for the perfect “I’m getting fucked tonight” outfits. Pen’s words, not mine.

Slipping into a cherry-red romper, accessorized with gold chains and sleek black boots, Pen let her hair fall in loose waves, adding bold red lipstick to complete the flawless makeup she’d applied prior.

She looked stunning.

“If we weren’t related, I’d totally sleep with you,” I quipped, earning a laugh from her.

“And you look like the cover of Vogue,” she shot back. My dress—a sleek black wrap that hugged my curves perfectly—was a hard find. I didn’t even know I had it. Paired with three-inch heels that made my legs looked impossibly long and gold jewelry, I did look pretty hot.

“You’re welcome,” Penny added, fluffing her hair.

After bidding farewell to her mom, we took an Uber to Nyx, an exclusive club known for its elite clientele. One look at us, and the bouncers ushered us inside without a second thought.

The interior was dazzling—golden lights, luxurious decor, and an air of effortless sophistication. A live DJ spun electrifying beats that blasted through the speakers placed at strategic points and the dance floor pulsed with energy.

“This place is gorgeous,” I murmured, taking it all in. Everything about Nyx screamed opulence.

“I think I’ve found my target,” Penny interrupted, her gaze locked on a distinguished salt-and-pepper gentleman at the bar.

“I’ll see you at home. Don’t wait up!” she teased, sauntering off with a seductive sway in her hips.

“Wait—what?” I called after her. She disappeared into the crowd, leaving me stranded.

Did she just leave me? The little bitch.

As I stood there, debating whether to follow her or make a run for it, a smooth voice interrupted my thoughts.

“You’ve been invited to the VIP lounge.”

I turned to find a man with an easy smile and sharp features. He gestured toward a handsome stranger watching me from across the room, his eyes warm with intrigue.

Throwing caution to the wind, I accepted the invitation. If Penny could have her fun, so could I.

After all, it would be a crime to waste such a beautiful dress.

With my hands clasped around the elbow of the man who had delivered the invitation, I followed him into the VIP area.

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