My billionaire, Ex

I walked right into the club, my heart pounding so loud I was sure someone would hear it. I glanced at the people around me, trying to act normal, but no one noticed. They were too drunk, too high, too distracted by the music thumping through the floor. Coming here was the worst decision.

I felt sick. Actually sick. I knew I shouldn't have come. 'What are you doing here?' I asked myself again. 'You should run. It's not too late. You are not ready to see him.' I tried so hard to bury the memories- the memories of this club, and of him. and coming here was exactly the opposite of that, poking at wounds I wasn't ready to face. Not tonight. Not five months later, when my heart was still bleeding.

As I entered, I noticed the sprawling lounge of the club. It looked different than I remembered. So much different. This used to be our hideout, our spot- the place we came when we wanted to be invisible. Nothing fancy, just beer and cheap tequila. But now? Now it looked like something out of a billionaire's wet dream.

Velvet chairs hugged the curves of private booths, and golden fixtures glowed under the blood-red lighting. The whole place pulsed like a heartbeat. Sexy. Expensive. Intimate. if I hadn't walked in myself, I would've sworn I was on the fancier side of town. A little part of me felt sad. It was like the world had erased my memories of him-of us. This used to be our place. What am I even saying? I should be glad. Now there's a 5% chance I'm going to enjoy this night. "Suzi." Her voice pulled me out of my spiral.

I turned and saw her-Sam-grinning like she hadn't just dragged me into my personal hell. She looked unfairly good. Her short black dress clung to her body in all the right places, showing off those long, tanned legs she'd always been blessed with. Sam always had great legs-no stretch marks, no weird lines, just smooth and golden like she lived on some goddess-only beach. Her hair was freshly cut into that sleek brown bob she'd always wanted but never dared to try until now. It framed her sharp cheekbones and made her look expensive as hell.

"You're f*ck*ng late," she said, planting a hand on my chest and pushing me back before I could hug her. I raised a brow.

"B*tch, you're lucky I'm even here."

"Of course you're here. Your only friend is getting married," she said, rolling her eyes. Laughing, ignoring her last comment I hugged her. inhaling the familiar scent of her floral perfume. It grounded me-reminded me why I came. For her. Sam had been there since I can remember. She was there through my heartbreak and puffy eyes, and now she was glowing. I should be happy. I *am* happy... until I remembered who she was marrying. And more importantly, who his best man was.

"Don't say duh, but you look so f*ck*ng gorgeous right now," I said, pulling back to look at her.

"Also, I can't believe it's happening. You're actually getting married."

"Me too," she said with a grin. Her cheeks flushed, not from the heat, but pure excitement. She looked genuinely happy-eyes sparkling, full of life. That kind of happiness only comes when you really love someone. And I would be a hundred percent happy for her right now... if she wasn't marrying *his* friend.*For f*ck's sake, Suzzane. Get it together.*

"C'mon, everyone's waiting," she said, grabbing my hand. She started pulling me into the crowd, but my legs froze. Because I know who "everyone" is. Everyone... is him. The music felt louder suddenly, like it was pounding through my skull. People laughed and danced around me, oblivious to the slow panic crawling up my spine. My fingers tightened around my clutch. Sam looked back.

"What's wrong?"

"I just... need a second," I lied. I need eternity.

"You're not gonna puke, right? I swear if you puke on me-" "I'm fine!" I said quickly, pasting on a fake smile. I wasn't fine. I was anything *but* fine. My eyes scanned the room before I could stop myself. I told myself I wouldn't look for him. I lied. Of course I lied. And then... I saw him.

Zane.

Standing near the back bar, surrounded by some friends, laughing like he hadn't ripped me open and walked away. God, he looked good. So fucking good. Better than he had any right to. Dark suit. No tie. Top buttons undone like he owned the fucking place. His dark hair was slightly messy, like he'd run his fingers through it all day, and his stubble made him look even more infuriatingly perfect. He hadn't seen me yet. But I saw him. And every cell in my body screamed.

My knees almost gave out. Five months. That's how long it had been. And yet seeing him again was like being struck by lightning-sharp, hot, and immediate. My lungs stopped functioning.

I saw him smiling and I could almost hear his laugh. That stupid, cocky laugh I used to love hearing at 2 a.m. in his bed, his hand on my thigh, whispering sweet filth in my ear like I was the only woman who mattered.

God, I hated him.

God, I missed him. I missed his touch. I missed his mouth. *get it together*

He hadn't seen me yet. but somehow it feels like he is watching every corner. He has always done that, control the room by pretending it doesn't matter. But I mattered. I was the room for him once.

"Suz?" Sam tugged at my wrist. "Are you okay?"

I blinked, shaking my head. "Yeah. Totally."

Lie number two for the night.

We started walking toward the VIP lounge. I kept my head high, but I felt his presence like gravity. And then-just as we passed the bar-I felt it.

His eyes.

I didn't have to look to know. It was a pull. A magnetic pulse I hadn't felt in months. Goosebumps everywhere. my breath got stuck in my throat. Don't turn, don't turn

I turned.

He was already watching.

His lips parted slightly, his eyes clouded, like he couldn't believe I was real or here. I mean, who would? His hand stilled mid-gesture. His eyes traveled over my body, in a slow and greedy motion, like he was taking inventory of every inch he used to own. My red dress clung to my curves like a secret I wasn't ready to tell, and the sl*t on my thigh left little to the imagination. He remembered that leg. I knew he did. I saw it written in black color in his eyes. It darkened.

And for just a second-I wanted him to want me. No, I needed him to want me. To regret. To burn. my heart ached.

The whole world was spinning.

So I did what any woman would do.

I smiled. Holding him for a moment

Then I turned my back on him and walked away. Pulling Sam

"I need a drink"

My hips swayed like they had a purpose, and I could feel his stare crawling down my spine. Let him watch. Let him see I have moved on. clearly I haven't.

Inside the VIP area, the music was louder, bodies tighter. The table was full-Dave, Sam's fiancé, gave me a nod, already buzzed. Josh, my colleague from work, leaned in with a grin.

"D*mn, Suzzane," he said, clearly checking me out. "Didn't know you cleaned up this good."

I laughed and let him pull me into a half-hug. Loud enough for HIM to hear. I knew he followed us in. I could feel it.

Josh whispered, "You okay?"

"Getting there," I murmured.

He smiled, clearly ready to play the part. I suddenly appreciated that Sam had invited him. I'd told her I needed backup if I saw Zane. She understood. She always did.

We danced, we drank, and I let my body move like I didn't have a care in the world. But inside? I was trembling. Every time I caught a glimpse of him across the room, leaning on the wall with that look-that dark, possessive look-I felt the air thicken.

His jaw clenched whenever Josh touched my waist. His fingers curled around his drink like he wanted to break the glass. God. Let him be the one losing control tonight. Not me.

Josh leaned in close, his lips grazing my ear. "Want to make him jealous?"

I turned slowly, meeting his eyes. "He's already jealous." I felt scared admitting it. because I knew I was playing with fire.

Josh smirked. "Want to make it worse?"

I bit my lip,

You play with fire, you get burned.