Chapter 4 CHAPTER 4

BURN IT ALL DOWN

TIANA’S POV

The car engine roared to life like it knew I was seconds away from breaking into pieces. My hands were shaking so hard on the wheel that I almost clipped the gate, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. I needed speed, noise, anything to drown out the sound of Lucas’s voice echoing in my head.

She’s my fated mate. The Moon Goddess herself gave her to me.

Lies. Poison. Betrayal. Every syllable clawed at me, replaying like a broken record until my chest was hollow. I pressed the gas harder. The night swallowed me whole, city lights bleeding into streaks of neon and blur. My tears kept blurring the windshield, but I refused to wipe them. Let them fall. Let them burn.

I didn’t even remember the roads I took—just the pounding in my chest, the way my teeth ground together like I could chew through grief. By the time I skidded into the parking lot of the club, my heart was a drum about to split in half.

I parked so crooked, I’m pretty sure half the car was sticking out of the line. But again—who cared? Not me. Not tonight.

I slammed the door and stomped toward the entrance, the bass from inside already shaking the ground beneath my heels. The bouncer at the door gave me a once-over, his eyes lingering on the mess that was my mascara-streaked face.

“What?” I snapped. My voice came out too sharp, too jagged. He blinked, then shrugged and stepped aside. Damn right.

The moment the doors flew open, the heat, sweat, and perfume of too many bodies slammed into me. Music thundered like a second heartbeat, shaking the walls, rattling the floor. I could taste the alcohol in the air before I even touched a drink.

And then—Constance.

She spotted me instantly from her spot at the bar, her long braids swinging as she turned. Her glossy lips parted in a scream over the music. “Bitch, you look like death!”

“Thanks,” I shot back, voice raw, as I stumbled toward her. “That’s exactly the vibe I was going for.”

She grabbed my wrist before I could collapse and yanked me onto a stool. “Talk. Now. Don’t make me guess, because I know your ass wouldn’t show up here looking like roadkill unless something catastrophic went down.”

Catastrophic. Yeah, that was one word for it.

My laugh came out cracked and bitter. “Constance… he—he was with her.”

“Wait. With who?”

“The pregnant woman you saw earlier.” I spat like venom. “And not just kissing. Full-on, sheets-down, champagne-up, half-naked—” My voice broke, my throat slicing itself in half. “He’s with her. My husband. The love of my life. He’s with her.”

Her mouth dropped open so wide, I thought she was about to swallow the martini glass whole. “You mean to tell me…” She slammed her hand on the bar, making the glasses rattle. “That snake of a man was doing the horizontal tango with the bitch I saw earlier?!”

“Not just that,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “She said she’s pregnant. And Lucas didn’t even deny it. He… he admitted it, Constance. And worse…”

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t say the words, but they clawed their way out anyway. “He’s been drugging me. My vitamins. They weren’t vitamins. Birth control. He never wanted a family with me.”

The world tilted. I thought the club was spinning, but no—it was me. My stomach lurched, my lungs fought for air.

Constance froze. Then, slowly, her hand tightened around her glass so hard, I was sure it would shatter. “Oh. Hell. No.” She stood up like a storm in heels. “I swear to God, Tiana, if you don’t let me stab that man myself, I will actually combust.”

My laugh turned into a sob halfway through. I buried my face in my hands, shaking. “Constance, I can’t… I can’t do this. I feel like I’m going insane.”

“No.” She dropped back onto her stool, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look her dead in the eye. “Listen to me. You are not going insane. You’re grieving, you’re pissed, and you’re heartbroken, but insane? Never. He’s insane. He’s a monster. And you know what we do with monsters?”

“What?”

She grinned, wicked and sharp. “We drown them out with tequila.”

Before I could argue, she flagged down the bartender like she was summoning a soldier to war. “Four shots. No—six. Line them up. This girl needs a damn exorcism.”

“Constance—”

“Nope.” She shoved a shot glass into my hand the moment it landed. “Drink, baby girl. Doctor’s orders.”

I wanted to resist. I really did. But my hands were shaking, my chest was collapsing, and honestly? Oblivion sounded like the closest thing to peace I’d get tonight.

So I tipped the glass back. Then another. Then another.

By the fourth, my chest didn’t hurt quite so sharp. By the fifth, the room felt lighter. By the sixth, I was laughing—ugly, hysterical laughter that made people stare, but I didn’t give a damn.

“That’s my girl!” Constance whooped, clinking her glass with mine. Then—just like her chaotic ass—she leaned over and started kissing the girl next to her. Just… lips on lips like she’d been waiting all night for an excuse.

“Connie!” I yelled, but she was too busy moaning into blondie’s mouth to care.

So I did the only thing I could. I got up.

The dance floor was a beast, and I was ready to be eaten alive.

Music thumped so loud, I could feel it rattling my ribs. Lights strobed, painting everything in red, blue, green. My head spun, but my body—oh, my body was free. I let the rhythm take over, shaking every ounce of betrayal off me. Arms above my head, hips swaying, hair whipping around my face.

And I danced.

I danced like I wanted the Moon Goddess herself to see me. I danced like every dagger in my chest could be shaken loose if I just moved harder.

Somewhere through the blur, I caught Constance watching me from the bar, her lips swollen, her eyes wide. She gave me a thumbs up like, damn bitch, okay.

But then—someone else saw me too.

A figure slipped onto the dance floor, cutting through bodies like smoke. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark eyes locked onto me like I was prey—or maybe like I was fire.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t speak. Just stepped closer, his body syncing to mine like we were born to dance together. The heat between us flared instantly, making the air too thick to breathe.

I should’ve pulled back. Should’ve said no. But I was drunk. I was angry. I was broken. And right now, I needed this.

So I let him move with me.

The music slowed, heavy bass thrumming low. His hand found my waist, firm but careful. My head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as I let the heat swallow me whole. My body pressed to his, every curve fitting into every line.

And then—he leaned down, his lips brushing my ear.

“Come with me.”

Three words. Rough... low and dangerous.

I don’t know what possessed me, but I nodded.

Next thing I knew, he was leading me upstairs, past velvet ropes, into the VIP. Plush couches, dim lights, and privacy. The noise of the dance floor felt like another world.

He sat, leaning back like he owned the damn place, and I dropped beside him, heart pounding.

“You dance like you’re trying to burn the world down,” he said finally, his voice smooth, and deep.

“Maybe I am.” My lips curled in a bitter smile. “Got a problem with it?”

His eyes gleamed, sharp and amused. “Not at all. In fact… I’d love to watch you burn.”

Something in me snapped then—recklessness, pain, rage, I didn’t know. But I leaned forward, grabbed his collar, and kissed him.