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Cassie grins. "I knew you'd like it. You have to wear something super sexy, okay?”
I laugh. "Of course. Have you met me? I'll show you what I'm going to wear."
I put the phone down on the bed and rummaged through my wardrobe for something to wear. I finally settle on a black dress that hugs my curves in all the right places. I slide it on and check myself out in front of the mirror.
I look good.
"Okay, Cassie, what do you think?" I hold the phone up to the mirror so she can see me.
Cassie's eyes widen. "Damn, girl, you look hot! Michael is going to regret locking you up in that house when he sees you in that dress."
I giggle, rolling my eyes. "Oh please, Cassie. I'm so excited to get out of here and have fun."
Cassie nods. "Just be careful, okay? Don't do anything too crazy."
"I won't," I promise.
I grab my purse and slip out of the room, leaving my phone behind. I don't want Michael tracking me. I sneak out of the house and into the Uber I reserved. I tell the driver to take me to the hottest club in town since I'm behind on all the latest happenings in LA.
When I arrive, I'm a little nervous. It's been a while since I have been at a club alone. I don't know anyone here, but I take a deep breath and walk inside, trying to look confident.
As soon as I step inside, the music hits me. It's so loud I can feel the rhythm vibrating in my chest. The lights are flashing, and people are dancing and having a good time.
It's contagious.
I make my way to the bar, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.
"Can I get a vodka tonic, please?" I ask the bartender, raising my voice over the thumping music.
He nods and starts to mix my drink. I take a sip and feel the alcohol start to take effect. It makes me feel light-headed and carefree, and I move my body to the beat of the music.
I dance for about thirty minutes, losing myself in the music. Suddenly, a guy comes up to me and starts talking to me.
"Hey," He smirks at me. I look away, trying to ignore him, but he doesn't stop trying to get my attention.
I move away from that side to dance somewhere else. He follows me.
Can't this man take a hint?
He starts to dance with me, grinding against me.
"Please stop; I'm not interested," I tell him politely, but he doesn't seem to care. He's drunk and getting handsy, and I start to feel uncomfortable.
"Get off me," I try to push him away, but he won't take no for an answer. Before I know it, he's groping me, and I feel violated.
There is a sense of Deja Vu here. This is about the same thing that happened in Milan two and a half years ago. Only this time, Michael isn't here.
I slap him across the face, hoping to get him to back off. But it only makes him more aggressive.
"Bitch!" He grabs my arm and tries to pull me closer to him. Everyone is dancing like a drunk, and no one seems to care about what's happening around them.
When I think I'm trapped, a firm hand grabs the guy's shoulder and pulls him away. I see Michael standing between me and the drunk guy, towering over him and glaring down at him.
"Leave her alone," Michael growls, his voice low and threatening.
"Fuck off!" The drunk guy spits out, trying to push Michael, but Michael doesn't budge. He punches the guy in the face, knocking him out cold.
I gasp, placing my hand over my mouth.
