Beneath the Surface (Fell in Love with the Machine 1)

VESPER

Smoke. Noise. Liquor.

Blinding lights spill from the dance floor, illuminating bodies lost in the chaos-some drowning in the music, others in each other. The scent of sweat and alcohol clings to the air, thick and intoxicating, a perfume of recklessness.

This scene no longer startles me. The flashing colors, the deafening bass, the fleeting indulgences-they are all too familiar.

I don't come here for the thrill, nor do I come searching for something to fill the void. My girls and I come to forget-not to surrender ourselves to wandering hands or empty promises. Our desires live in our minds, not in this place, and certainly not for just anyone.

"Essie, you haven't even touched that yet." Isla's voice cuts through the noise, her gaze flicking toward the untouched drink in my hand.

Lia lets out a small laugh, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What's the hold-up? Drink up, my girl!"

I roll my eyes before bringing the glass to my lips, letting the burn of liquor chase away their teasing. The sharp taste curls through my throat, igniting something in my chest-warmth, rebellion, defiance.

"Girls, let's dance!" Sera's voice rings out, electric with excitement.

Without hesitation, we move. The music pulls us in, our bodies swaying to the rhythm-a fleeting moment of surrender before the night truly begins..

---

(Neon Pulse Playing)

Heartbeat heavy, lights turn low,

Bodies moving, lost in the glow.

Whispers burn like liquor deep,

Dancing fast but sinking steep.

One more taste, one more high,

Drown the night in flashing lights.

Touch like fire, breath so thin,

Falling fast-who's pulling me in?

---

The bass pulses like a second heartbeat, rattling in my chest as we lose ourselves in the music.

Lia is already gone, her figure blending into the crowd with a stranger-not that we're worried.

Ophelia Sinclair is a flirt, a master of the game, but never a fool. No man has ever stolen more than a glance from her, despite their desperate attempts. We play in our minds, but we don't hand ourselves over.

I turn to Isla, only to find her staring at me, gaze unwavering.

"What?" I scoff, rolling my eyes.

'Where's Sera?" I ask, trying to deflect.

She simply motions with her chin in some vague direction, as if that would tell me anything.

"Damn it, Celeste Isolde! Quit staring at me, or I might just take you up on it," I tease, laughing.

She merely raises a brow. "I'd be glad if it means they'd stop looking at you," she says.

I follow her gaze.

Several men are watching me. Some subtle, some not. Their eyes roam over me with hunger, but I feel nothing.

None of them interest me.

They never have.

I smirk. "Come on, Isla. We come here all the time. Of course, people stare. We're hella gorgeous-who wouldn't? It would be a crime if they didn't."

A smirk tugs at her lips before she leans in, voice dripping with amusement. "Then tell me, what if it was Lucien Rael Vale watching you? What would you do?"

My body goes still.

No.

That cannot happen.

And more importantly, I won't allow it.

Worse, I know Silvan Leon Holloway, my ever-loving, ever-righteous older brother, would despise it.

He knows Lucien. They run in the same circles, though they aren't particularly close. And we're talking about my brother here-a man who stands his ground.

I've heard plenty about the Machine.

Lucien Rael Vale.

The sole heir of Vale Industries-a global empire built on advanced technology, cyber security, private security, and weapons manufacturing.

Everything he touches,

Everything beneath his feet and gaze,

He owns. He bends to his control.

"Never go near Rael, Vesper. And never let him come near you. I'm warning you."

Silvan's voice echoes in my head.

Earlier, I had felt something strange on the dance floor. Something intense-an unseen weight pressing against my skin, a gaze that sent a ghost of a shiver down my spine.

I had suspicions. And of course, I was right.

I had known of him for a long time, yet our paths had never truly crossed. And I had no intention of changing that.

Dismissing Isla's words, I lift my glass and down the last remnants of my drink, letting the burn chase away the thought.

Then, without another word, I grab Isla's hand, pulling her with me into the crowd-intent on finding Lia and Sera.

But then-

I feel it.

A presence. Heavy. Overwhelming.

My breath falters for a split second.

My eyes unintentionally catch the gaze that has been unraveling me from afar.

Him.

He sits there, sipping his drink, watching me.

A single look, and something tightens in my chest-something foreign, something dangerous.

And for a fleeting second,

I feel as though I'm drowning-pulled into the depths of those piercing green eyes, their weight pressing against my skin, coaxing something out of me I cannot name.

Is this insanity? Am I truly losing myself?

Then-he smirks.

The curve of his lips jolts me back, snapping the fragile thread that held me still. I tear my gaze away, letting it drift into the sea of bodies, yet the weight of his eyes remains.

I can still feel it.

That searing gaze, burning against my skin, refusing to let go.

I press my lips together, willing the unspoken sensation into silence, pretending it does not exist.

And leaving-before the night turns into something I can't control.

---

LUCIEN

My Hollow.

She felt me.

Through the noise, the lights, the smoke–she felt me.

As she and her friends walked through the crowd, pushing toward the exit, I saw it-the unease flickering in her eyes, the tension coiled in her frame. She tried to mask it, to steady herself.

But I know.

She is not unaffected.

She can run, but she cannot ignore the weight of my presence.

I take the last sip of my drink, savoring the burn, a smirk curling at the edge of my lips.

One gaze is not enough to unsettle you, is it, Hollow?

You can run. But you won't get far.

You were already mine the second my gaze claimed you.

My patience is endless, my control absolute.

I lean back in my seat, watching as she disappears into the crowd.

The game has only just begun.