Page 48 of Filthy Hot Billionaire
“Oh, my goddess! We’re in!” Priya squealed, squeezing my arm a little too hard and making me wobble on my heels again.
Yes, we were in, and that anxious churning … well, it had developed into a full-blown tsunami in my belly. However, I forged ahead because I would not let my friends down.
We entered the building through a wide hallway lit only by small crystal chandeliers dangling overhead. The walls and floor were painted black, the matte color ignoring the light as though it wasn’t there.
Our first stop was at the coat check, where a beautiful young woman wearing a red sequined dress that was just shy of indecent was standing. “Welcome to Obsession. May I take your coats?”
I stepped back and allowed Priya and Siobhan to pass theirs over before it was my turn. When I stepped forward, the woman smiled, flashing brilliant white teeth as she took my coat.
“Good evening, Miss Campbell. It’s a pleasure to have you at Obsession this evening.”
I paused and looked at my friends, realizing she hadn’t greeted either of them by name. Why not? I mean, this club was open to the public, and I certainly wasn’t on the rich and famous list who frequented it, so how did she know who I was? Was there facial recognition or something? Was she getting whispers in her ear from someone spying on the guests?
“Have a wonderful evening.” Her smile brightened. “Oh, and happy birthday. Twenty-three looks good on you,” she added before stepping away to deposit my coat into a room behind her.
Wai— How— What was going on here?
“Thank you?” I managed before my friends were dragging me down another hallway. This one twisted and turned, the matte black walls morphing into geometric patterns a few feet before the hallway dumped us out into the most fabulous place I’d ever seen.
My breath slammed into my lungs as I peered up and around, admiring. Spread out before me was what I would’ve envisioned as the perfect nightclub in New York City if I’d dreamed it up myself. And to top it off, “Stoopid Rich” by Crankdat and Havok Roth was pulsing through the speakers, the lights synced to the beat.
It was an architectural marvel—geometric patterns everywhere, sleek and modern and sexy. The walls were black velvet squares crisscrossed by stainless steel, and they were the accent that drew the eye up to the two levels above the main floor. In front of me, four steps circled wide, allowing the crowd to descend toward the main bar, which stood proud in the center of the space. Around it, there were two-top tables where people could congregate and chat if they could be heard over the music that pumped through the speakers overhead. Lights danced through the enormous space, flashing purple, pink, and blue, while a giant mirrored octagon twisted and turned slowly overhead, redirecting the light.
“Oh, my goddess!” Priya squealed again.
I laughed because I figured I would hear that a few dozen times before the night was over. It was her signature saying, after all.
“This is fabulous,” Siobhan noted, doing her best not to squeak when she spoke.
“I agree. It’s amazing,” I said unabashedly.
Although I’d been to a couple of smaller clubs in the past few weeks, I’d never seen anything like this. Priya and Siobhan had insisted on taking me out and getting me acclimated to the city as soon as I admitted to them that aside from campus and the nearest coffee shop, I didn’t get out much. In fact, I didn’t get out at all by myself, but I had refrained from sharing that tale of woe. I wasn’t sure anyone would understand how sheltered I’d been or how truly terrified I still was after nearly two full years of living on my own. My classes gave me something to focus on, but the glitter and glam of my fantasies had worn off after the first day. I knew it would benefit me to get a degree, which was the only reason I was still there, but the luster and shine were gone, my days seemingly endless and filled with information that didn’t challenge me like I’d thought it would. It was all made more difficult because I found I preferred the semi-reclusive lifestyle despite being relieved there were people around.
Even now, I could feel my anxiety level ratcheting up because the club was full to bursting with people, a vast range of ages and ethnicities talking, dancing, laughing. Like the city itself, I found the diversity refreshing since I’d spent most of my life living in a weird bubble because Kitty and Rhett were only prone to interacting with stodgy, arrogant white people. I wouldn’t go so far as to say my father and stepmother were racist, they were merely narrow-minded, and their choices in who they socialized with proved it.
I was vaguely aware of my friends pulling out their phones to snap selfies while I continued to look around, admiring the people who were congregating on all three floors. Drinks were flowing. Some were dancing on the second level, which looked to be designated for just that.
“Youaregoing to dance tonight,” Siobhan asserted, tapping my arm and pointing her long finger in the direction I’d been looking.
“We’ll see.” I wasn’t making any promises. I was here, which was quite a feat in itself. If I had my way, I would find a secluded spot and plant my butt so I could people watch—something I found I truly enjoyed doing.
“Shall we, ladies?” Priya said, tilting her chin back and thrusting her chest forward as she started down the steps to the main level.
I made it down one step when a lyrical male voice pulled me up short. “Miss Campbell.”
I halted and looked over, doing my best not to teeter over onto my ass.
“That’s him,” Siobhan whispered loudly, though I wasn’t sure if she was talking to Priya or me. “Kieran O’Rourke.”
The way she said his name was as though he was royalty. In all fairness, he didn’t look like royalty. He was intriguingly handsome, there was no doubt about that, but there was no crown, no halo that depicted him as anything more than a mortal man. A tall, well-dressed, muscular … mortal.
“Serious swoon,” Priya said, fanning herself. “And he’s so much hotter in person.”
As soon as I’d received the invitation, they’d gone on and on about him, pulling him up on Google, telling me everything they could about his life, but I hadn’t paid too much attention, not wanting to go down a rabbit hole. The last thing I wanted was to end up like Rose, harboring a major crush on a famous person I would never meet. I probably should have paid attention.
“Welcome to Obsession,” he said, his words thick with an Irish brogue.
A giggle sounded from my friends.
