Dedication

For all the dark swans

FOREWORD

“Love me like my demons do.”

-Akif Kichloo:

INTRODUCTION

This is a dark romance. A one-night, terrifyingly indulgent fantasy for readers who like to dabble in reading the darker corners of literature.

I obviously do not condone, or endorse the things that happen in these pages. It is a work of FICTION. You ask, and I deliver. So make sure to let me know what you want to read next!

I will not be putting a long list of triggers due to this being a dark book so it goes without saying, proceed with caution.

I. Club

PART 1

CLUB

Tonight, things are going to change. I’m going to dance into Altitude, grab the nearest hottest guy I can find and stick my tongue down his throat just for spite.

Maybe I’ll even get Jade to snap a few pictures for Instagram.

Tonight, I’m going to be anyone besides myself.

In my true reality, I’m a twenty-five-year-old lawyer, spending sunny days in courtrooms and starry nights tucked inside the comfort of my king-sized bed.

I rarely, no scratch that. I never let loose.

Since graduating, I’ve spent the better half of my twenties climbing the corporate ladder and shelling out every ounce of my energy into a relationship that didn’t fucking matter.

“You’re going to make him so jealous!” My best friend Jade sings, swiping on the last wisps of thick black mascara over my lashes.

I look at my reflection. A smokey shadow with a glimmer of shine on the inner lid. “We have to post a million pictures.” I grin mischievously, attempting to let a fake grin blanket my sadness.

Jade agrees, nodding. “We’re going to make Dante regret the day he left you.”

Which was last night.

I walked in from work, excited to tell him about a new high-profile case. I searched everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found.

I thought something had happened, until I found a bright pink post-it on my pillow that read ‘Sorry, Mace’ along with my keys scattered on the silk sheets. If I hear anyone call me Mace again, I’m going to gouge their eyes out.

“I just don’t get it,” I dig my teeth into a twizzler, “three years for what? He just took his shit and walked out.”

Jade shrugs, ever the bachelorette. “You know my opinion, no one should ev-”

I cut her off, finishing her mantra. “Be stuck with one cock in their twenties.” I roll my eyes. “But you know that doesn’t apply to me.”

She pats my cheek, “Yes, Mother Theresa.” She teases.

I clench my fist, “He could have just talked to me if it was that.” Which we both know it was, it’s just something I won’t dare say.