Chapter 3: The Night of Missed Chances

Chapter 3: The Night of Missed Chances

Charles

I straightened my collar for what felt like the hundredth time, a strange sense of excitement bubbling inside me. Tonight, I’d finally meet her—the woman who had been on my mind since the night we met. My heart raced as the clock ticked closer to 9:00 p.m. I’d sent her the club’s address, and now I was just waiting to see her again. It had been a long time since someone made me feel this way, and I was determined to make tonight unforgettable.

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Charlotte

I stared at the address on my phone, feeling a strange sense of familiarity wash over me. The club's location tugged at a distant memory, but I couldn’t place it. My phone buzzed with a message from Emma, but I decided not to bother her. She’d been through so much with me lately. I could handle this alone.

The cab arrived quickly, and I climbed in, anxious thoughts swirling in my head. The city blurred past as we sped toward the club. My mind was full of questions—who could have sent me this address? Was it the detective? Or someone else? I didn’t know, but I had to find out.

When we reached the club, I handed the driver some cash and stepped out, my mind preoccupied. I didn’t notice that my phone had slipped out of my hand, left behind in the backseat of the cab.

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Charles

By the time I arrived at the club, it was buzzing with energy. The music was loud, and the dance floor was packed with bodies moving to the beat. I scanned the room, hoping to spot her immediately. But she wasn’t there.

I ordered a drink and took a seat at the bar, telling myself she was probably running late. I had sent the address myself, so she knew where to be. I could wait. 

But with each passing minute, my patience thinned. I wasn’t used to waiting. Women were always on time for me—eager, if anything. But she was different. That’s why I wanted to see her again.

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Charlotte

Inside the club, I found a small corner to sit and watch the entrance. The music was a little too loud for my taste, but I kept my eyes peeled, searching for anyone familiar. Something about this place made me uneasy.

Just as I was beginning to relax, my phone buzzed, pulling me from my thoughts. I reached into my bag, but it wasn’t there. Panic flared as I remembered the cab ride. I must have left it behind.

Before I could dwell on that, another thought hit me like a train: my mom. She had called earlier, and I hadn’t answered. What if something was wrong?

I rushed outside, flagging down a cab as fast as I could. I had to get home. I didn’t know what was happening, but I needed to be with my family. As the cab sped off, I didn’t look back, leaving the club—and whatever awaited me inside—far behind.

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Charles

By 9:30, my frustration was mounting. I had called her number, but it went straight to voicemail. I told myself to be patient, but it wasn’t like me to wait for anyone. My fingers drummed on the bar as I glanced at my watch. It was 10:00 p.m. now, and she still hadn’t shown up.

I caught the eyes of a few women nearby. They smiled, their gazes full of promise. I wasn’t in the mood for this, but I wasn’t going to let the night go to waste. 

One woman, a blonde with a tight red dress, sauntered up to me. “Need some company?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet.

I gave her a once-over. She was pretty, no doubt. But she wasn’t *her*. “Sure,” I said, flashing a smile that I didn’t quite feel.

We danced, and other girls joined in. Soon, I found myself surrounded by a sea of admirers. We drank, laughed, and let the night take over. But no matter how much I tried to enjoy myself, my mind kept drifting back to *her*—the woman who wasn’t there.

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Charlotte

By the time I arrived at the hospital, dread coiled tightly in my chest. I rushed inside, asking for Olivia. They led me to her room, and my heart sank when I saw her lying there, pale and weak.

My mom sat beside her, clutching her hand. Emma was there too, her face a mask of worry.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“She collapsed,” my mom whispered. “They think it’s serious.”

I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I had been at some club, clueless, while my sister was in the hospital. 

A doctor walked in, pulling my mom and me aside. “Your daughter is going to be fine,” he said. “She has Peptic Ulcer Disease, but we’ve caught it early. With treatment, she’ll recover.”

Relief washed over me, but guilt still gnawed at the edges of my mind. I had almost missed this—my sister’s health crisis—because I had been chasing some mysterious message.

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Charles

The night was nearing its end, and I found myself in the VIP lounge, surrounded by women who wanted my attention. But I wasn’t feeling it. My mind was stuck on the woman who didn’t show up, the one I had been so sure would be here.

I checked my phone again, even though I knew she hadn’t called. The girls around me were fun, no doubt, but none of them compared to the woman I had met that night. The one with the star-shaped birthmark.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight wasn’t meant to be wasted. I leaned into the chaos, letting the alcohol dull my senses, the music drowning out the thoughts in my head. 

But deep down, I knew I wouldn’t forget *her*—the one who had slipped through my fingers.

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Charlotte

By the next morning, Olivia was stable, and I could finally breathe. I had lost my phone, but Emma had suggested I go to the studios in person to follow up on the jobs I had applied for. It was stressful, but I had to do something.

But each studio had the same story: they had called me, and when I didn’t answer, they gave the job to someone else.

Defeated, I walked to Emma’s workplace to tell her everything. When I explained, she gave me a sympathetic smile.

“I might have something for you,” she said. “But it’s a little unconventional.”

“What is it?” I asked, ready to tak

e any opportunity.

“Well,” she hesitated, “how do you feel about working for a billionaire?”