𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

18

We pull up to the venue, a massive nightclub that seems to pulse with the beat of the music inside.

As the door opens and Damien and I step out, we're immediately bombarded by a wall of sound and light, the flashes of cameras nearly blinding me.

Celebrities, socialites, and the richest of Vegas society line the red carpet, their designer gowns and suits shining under the strobing lights.

Damien keeps an arm around my shoulder as we make our way inside, his security forming a tight perimeter around us, armed with guns. I can't help but notice the sheer number of security guards swarming the place- more than usual.

I feel a bit uneasy, my mind running through the worst-case scenarios already, but I shake it off. It's Damien Caine's birthday. Of course, he's going to make sure everything is locked down and airtight.

I can feel the weight of a thousand stares. As we step into the main hall, I'm struck by the sheer scale of the party. The place is huge, filled to the brim with what must be thousands of people. The music is so loud it vibrates through my bones, the bass thumping with my heartbeat.

Damien leads me to his private section, a roped-off area that's heavily guarded by even more of his security team. The moment we step inside, we're swarmed by a sea of well-wishers, all of them eager to pay their respects to the birthday boy.

Damien takes it all in, shaking hands and accepting congratulations with the easy charm of a natural born leader. I watch him work the room, my heart swelling with pride at the way he commands attention, the way everyone seems to orbit around him like planets around the sun.

We do a few rounds, mingling with the VIP guests, sipping champagne and exchanging air kisses. But before long, the siren call of the dance floor proves too strong to resist.

Damien leads me through the crowd of sweaty, gyrating bodies, his hands hot and heavy on my hips as he grinds against me in time to the pounding beat.

I lose myself in the music, in the haze of alcohol and whatever "party favors" are making their way through the crowd. Top-shelf liquor is being passed around like water.

But just as I'm starting to feel like nothing could ruin this perfect night, through the flashing lights and the sea of faces, I catch a glimpse of someone I definitely recognize. Someone I was hoping I'd never have to lay eyes on again.

Gia.

She's draped over the bar, sipping a cocktail, looking like she owns the place. Like she has any fucking right to be here.

Anger surges through me, cutting through the pleasant buzz of the alcohol. I turn around to face Damien, my eyes flashing with accusation and hurt.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" I hiss, jerking my chin in Gia's direction. "I thought you put her on the blacklist, told security not to let her skanky ass through the door."

Damien frowns, his gaze following mine to land on Gia's smirking face. For a second, I swear I see a flicker of something in his eyes - annoyance, maybe even anger.

But then he's turning back to me, "Don't worry about her, baby," he slurs, his lips brushing my ear. "She's not worth ruining our night over. Let's just focus on us, yeah?"

I really want to march over there and rip Gia's hair out by the fucking roots.

But the pleading look in Damien's eyes, the way his hands tighten on my waist...it's enough to make me swallow my rage, plaster on a smile and nod like everything's fine.

"Of course, my love," I coo, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Tonight's all about you. Fuck everyone else."

Damien grins, "That's my girl."