Elena didn't remember when the music became so loud or when her body started moving without her permission.
She only remembered the feeling—heavy, dizzy, freeing.
The club was alive around her. Lights flashed in red and gold. Sweat, perfume, and alcohol mixed in the air. People laughed, shouted, touched. It was everything her old life was not.
For years, she had gone home early. For years, she had chosen quiet nights and shared dinners. For years, she had been someone's wife.
Tonight, she was no one's.
Mia danced beside her, shouting something Elena couldn't hear. Elena laughed anyway, lifting her arms, letting the beat guide her. With every movement, she felt the weight on her chest loosen just a little.
But she wasn't alone.
She could feel them.
Eyes on her skin. Heavy. Focused.
She turned slowly—and met Ethan Cole's gaze again.
He stood near the edge of the dance floor, tall and still, like a storm waiting to break. His dark shirt clung to his broad shoulders. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes told a different story. They were sharp. Curious. Almost hungry.
Beside him stood Liam West.
Where Ethan was controlled, Liam was dangerous. His smile was lazy, confident, the kind that promised trouble and never apologized for it. He leaned closer to Ethan, saying something Elena couldn't hear, his eyes never leaving her.
Her pulse quickened.
This is stupid, she told herself.
You came here to forget, not to start something new.
But her feet moved anyway.
She walked to the bar, her hips swaying, her head held high. She could feel their gazes follow her like heat. When she reached the counter, she ordered another drink.
"Careful," the bartender said. "You're going fast."
"So is life," Elena replied, forcing a smile.
The glass was cold against her fingers. She took a sip—and almost dropped it when a familiar voice spoke behind her.
"Elena."
She turned.
Ethan stood close—too close. She hadn't heard him approach. His presence felt solid, grounding, and dangerously comforting.
"Ethan," she said, surprised. "Didn't know you were back in town."
"Came back a few weeks ago," he replied. "Didn't expect to see you like this."
Her lips curved. "Like what?"
"Free," he said honestly.
The word struck something deep inside her.
Before she could respond, Liam appeared on her other side, resting an elbow casually on the bar.
"Don't listen to him," Liam said with a grin. "You look exactly where you belong."
Elena raised an eyebrow. "And where is that?"
"Right here," he said smoothly. "Between bad choices."
She laughed—a real laugh, light and sharp. It surprised her.
"And you two," she said, glancing between them, "are the bad choices?"
Ethan frowned. Liam smiled wider.
"Depends," Liam said. "Are you running or chasing?"
Elena lifted her glass. "Neither."
She took a slow sip, then looked at them both, her voice steady.
"I'm done with love."
Ethan's expression hardened. "That's a dangerous thing to say."
She shrugged. "So is marriage."
The air between them changed.
"What happened?" Ethan asked quietly.
She hesitated. For a moment, she almost told him everything. About Michael. About the ring on the table. About the way her heart felt hollow.
Instead, she shook her head. "Tonight is not for stories."
Liam tilted his head. "Then what is tonight for?"
Elena leaned closer, her lips inches from his ear.
"Tonight," she whispered, "has only one rule."
She pulled back and met both their gazes.
"No promises."
They moved to a quieter corner of the club. Music still thumped, but the shadows gave them privacy. Elena sat between them on a leather couch, her body warm, her head light.
She could feel Ethan's tension. He sat straight, his hands clenched, like he was fighting himself. Liam, on the other hand, relaxed easily, his arm stretched behind her, not touching—but close enough to feel.
"So," Liam said, "you're really done with love?"
Elena nodded. "Love lies. Desire doesn't."
Ethan turned to her sharply. "That's not true."
She met his gaze. "Isn't it?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His silence was answer enough.
"Love asks for sacrifice," she continued. "Love asks you to trust. And trust is the easiest thing to destroy."
Liam studied her face. "Who hurt you?"
She smiled bitterly. "The man who promised forever."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"You deserve better," he said.
She laughed softly. "Everyone says that. No one explains how."
Liam leaned in, his voice low. "Sometimes better isn't safe. Sometimes it's just… honest."
Her breath caught.
She stood abruptly. "I need air."
Ethan was on his feet immediately. "I'll come with you."
"So will I," Liam said.
She looked between them, then nodded.
Outside, the night air was cool against her heated skin. The city lights shimmered. Cars passed. Somewhere, laughter echoed.
Elena leaned against the railing, breathing deeply.
"This is a mistake," Ethan said quietly.
She turned. "Then walk away."
He didn't.
Liam stepped closer. "If you want us gone, say it."
She didn't.
Silence stretched between them, thick and dangerous.
Ethan broke it. "Your brother would kill us."
She smiled faintly. "My brother doesn't own me."
Liam chuckled. "I like her."
Ethan shot him a warning look. "This isn't a game."
Elena looked at both of them, her voice firm.
"It is to me."
They froze.
"For once," she continued, "I want control. No expectations. No heartbreak. Just tonight."
"And tomorrow?" Ethan asked.
"There is no tomorrow," she said.
The truth of it hit her as she spoke.
Later that night, Elena lay awake in her apartment, staring at the ceiling.
She hadn't crossed the line—not yet. But the tension clung to her skin like a memory. Their eyes. Their voices. The way they looked at her like she was something precious and dangerous at the same time.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: Did you get home safe?
—E
She stared at the screen.
Another message followed seconds later.
Unknown Number: Ignore him. I'd have walked you myself.
—L
Her heart pounded.
She typed slowly.
Elena: I'm fine. Thank you.
Elena: Remember the rule.
Three dots appeared on both screens.
Ethan: I don't think I can.
Liam: I already broke it.
She turned her phone face down, her chest tight.
"No more love," she whispered to the empty room.
But even as she said it, she knew the truth.
Desire had already stepped inside.
And it was not planning to leave quietly.