~♡~Mac's POV~♡~

It's showtime.

Holding my head up high, I walk towards the tall guy who is entering the club. Mark Hamilton III is wearing a simple — but clearly expensive — white t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Scratching his head, he continues shifting his gaze back and forth between the dance floor and the front door. He looks quite distracted — and slightly pissed, perhaps because of Sophia's stint earlier — which makes it easier for me to launch my move.

Let's see if he's nice enough to fall for my trick.

As usual, I prepare my clutch before accidentally bumping into his rock hard chest.

"Ouch!" I take a few steps backward, pretending to stumble on my own feet. To my surprise, he quickly circles his arm around my waist to keep me from falling.

Well, that's the first time. I guess he really is a nice catch!

"Whoa! Are you okay?" he asks as our gazes meet. Wow, he's got wonderful eyes! I mean... those beautiful blue eyes are just—

"Uhm... Are you okay?" he repeats, snapping me out of my trance.

"Yeah, yeah! I'm fine!" I put my hand on his upper arm — which feels like it's made from steel — to help me gain my balance and stand straight. As he lets go of me slowly, I give a few pats to my dress and push the hair that falls on my face to the back.

Get a grip, Mac! Get a grip on yourself!

I fake a loud gasp as I shift my gaze to the ground. "Oh! I'm such a klutz!" I kneel on the floor and start picking up my stuff. As expected, Mark does the same.

I proceed to do my usual trick to the very last part, where our hands accidentally touch and I fake a blush. That's when I glance at Sophia — who is watching our every moves from the sideline — and wink, giving her a signal to do her part. She gives a firm nod in return.

"Sorry." He smiles and hands over the phone to me. "Here you go."

Right when Sophia's call arrives and her number is displayed on the screen, the intro to KISS's I Stole Your Love is heard. Earlier, I've changed my ringtone to the rock song in order to further gain his attention — and it works like a charm.

His eyes light up as he stares at me with awe. "You're a KISS fan?"

I lower my gaze and tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. Acting shy, I reply, "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. A girl who likes hard rock music?" I shake my head lightly and throw my gaze slightly to the side. "Such a weirdo, right?"

"No, no! Not at all!" he quickly adds. "In fact, I think it's pretty cool."

"Really?" I look at him and pose a calculated, surprised smile, trying to hide my inner victorious grin.

"Absolutely!" He gives a firm nod in return. "Here, let me help you." He extends his hand to help me stand up and I happily receive it. Wow. He really is a gentleman! "I'm Mark, by the way. Mark Hamilton III."

It takes every bit of strength in me to prevent a winning smirk from being displayed on my face. "You can call me M."

"Well, M, let me buy you a drink," he continues. Yes! "As an apology for bumping into you."

"Oh, you really don't have to. It was my fault t—"

"No, no, I insist." He flashes a charming smile and his perfect, shiny teeth are displayed exactly like in those toothpaste advertisements. I swear I can see it glows in the dark.

Keep it together, Mac. I fake a defeated sigh and return a somewhat shy smile. "Well, if you insist..."

Mark and I are heading towards the bar when suddenly, two highly intimidating men approach us. The two beefy men are wearing formal black and white suits — a strange attire for a place like this — and sunglasses. My forehead folds and my smile is wiped without a trace when they stop beside me. I look up at them with confusion, feeling like a midget surrounded by giants in the process. What...?

Then, as I realize what might be happening, my eyes go wide and a small gasp escapes my mouth.

They couldn't possibly have found out I entered the club without an invitation, could they?

My limbs start to tremble and my lower lip quivers as a wave of fear surge into my mind. My knees go weak and my shoulders are raised slightly, feeling much smaller than I already am.

What are they going to do to me?

My eyes start to move side-to-side and my heart pounds loudly. While I try to control my breathing and calm myself down, my gaze searches the room for Sophia, who's nowhere to be found.

Dammit! Where the heck is she?

I bite my inner lip as I continue to curse. Typical Sophia, always gone when I need her the most.

"Is this girl bothering you, Sir?" one of the men asks Mark.

I continue to bite my lower lip as my heart beats faster and louder. Should I just ditch the plan and run?

But... I've worked too hard for this!

To my surprise, Mark exhales and runs a hand through his perfectly styled, light-brown hair, his bicep flexes as he does so. Dayum!

I gulp when I realize drool is about to drip out of my mouth. Control yourself, Mac!

With a soft growl, he answers, "No." Turning to look at me, his gaze softens. "Would you excuse me for a second?"

I have no idea what's going on, but it seems like this has nothing to do with me breaking into the club. So, I just smile politely. "Of course."

He flashes another charming smile before signaling the two men to follow him. Stopping a few feet away from me, he put both hands on his waist. His lips curl into a frown and his gaze strengthens, annoyance shining through his eyes. I can vaguely hear the conversation that follows. "How many times do I need to say, I can take care of myself?"

"But, Sir, we have been specifically ordered to—"

"I don't give a shit what my father told you to do!" He raises his voice, his broad chest moves up and down in anger. After a while, he closes his eyes for a quick moment and takes a deep breath. "Look, I know you're just trying to do your job. But I'm a boxing state-champion and I hold a black belt in Karate. Surely a tiny girl like that creep wouldn't be able to do anything to me!"

My forehead puckers in a split second. Uh-oh. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?

"But, sir—"

Mark lets out a sigh. "Please, for the love of God, can you at least be a little more discreet about it?"

The two men look at each other for a moment before returning their gaze to Mark. "Very well, Sir. If you need us, we'll be right over there." The man gestures towards the corner of the room.

Mark shakes his head and sighs once again before turning around and walking towards me. With a small, apologetic smile, he apologizes, "I'm sorry for the distraction."

"It's okay." I fake a smile. Then, out of curiosity, I ask, "What was that all about?"

He inhales, running a hand to mess up his hair. "There was this creepy girl who broke into my apartment last week. I think she might be a stalker or something."

My eyes widen in an instant. Oh, shit! How did he know that?

I let out a fake gasp. The pitch of my voice raises considerably when I say, "No kidding?"

"Nope." He gives a small shrug. "And now my father ordered those two bodyguards to follow me everywhere." He rolls his eyes and sighs. "Talk about overprotective parents, huh?"

"Tell me about it." A nervous laugh comes out of my mouth while I try to hide the panic that is beginning to take over me.

Then, a big question is raised in my head. How did he know I — well, someone — broke into his apartment?

"So, did she take anything?" I ask, wanting to know how much he knows about the 'thief'.

"That's the weird thing! Nothing was missing!"

"Oh?" I mutter, pretending to be surprised.

"But, when I walked into my apartment, I knew in my gut something was wrong. See, some of the clothes in my closet had wrinkles on it!" His nostrils flare as his eyes are filled with rage. Wrinkles? My lips curve downward slightly at his response. "She must've done some creepy stuff with them!"

Geez, it's just a freaking wrinkle! For a quick moment, my eyelids droop in annoyance. Besides, I didn't do anything to them, I just hid in the closet, you moron!

Pulling my act together, I continue faking my sweet girl persona. "Are you sure it wasn't just the dry-cleaner's fault?"

"Nope." He shakes his head. "I always make sure my clothes are wrinkle-free when I put them in my closet."

Neat freak. "But, how did you even know it's a she? I mean... if it's just a thief, it could be anybody, right?" I argue.

"She was caught on the cameras in the hallway. Plus, my cousin saw her too, so..."

His cousin?

"Oh... That is so creepy..." I mutter under my breath, trying my best not to look suspicious.

"You know what, enough about that." With another charming smile, he continues, "Let's go get that drink, shall we?"

We proceed to go to the bar to buy some drinks. Thinking a daredevil like him might like a girl who can handle her drinks, I order a Vodka — and I'm right yet again. He looks amused and thrilled at the same time. As I continue to enjoy my drink, the rest of the night goes out as planned. Within minutes of conversation, it's safe to say he's mesmerized by me — or rather by my newly-found knowledge of extreme sports and rock bands.

But, during those moments, I also find him to be the most boring and self-absorbed guy I've ever talked to. I have to force myself to nod and smile as he talks on and on about his achievements — boxing, golf, being a student body president, blah, blah, blah. Pretending to be interested in the things that he's saying is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

As the clock keeps ticking, the conversation becomes duller and duller. Of course, he's still over-the-moon to find a girl who's seemingly interested in everything that he's interested in.

Not being able to take the boredom any longer, I grab his hand and drag him to the dance floor. "Let's dance, shall we?"

He welcomes the invitation with a wide smile. Within seconds, we're already dancing on the dance floor. Our hands are entangled in each other's body, learning each and every curve. As our body gets closer and closer, the heat between us continues to rise. Before I know it, our faces are mere inches from each other. I can feel his hot breath against my forehead as I rest my arms over his shoulder. Then, he leans forward to land the hottest, most sensual kiss on my lips.

Our lips continue to lock with each other and when I open my mouth to let out a moan, he slides his tongue inside my mouth like a pro. Shivers run through my body as he runs his hand around my waist. The best part of everything is, he treats me with more respect than any other boys have done this past week. He doesn't try to touch my breasts, or grab my butt, or touch my private area like almost every one of those boys has done so far!

I guess he really is a good guy.

Boring, but good.

After a while, we break our kiss. Still staring at each other, our chests heave up and down as we try to catch a breath.

"Wow..." he mutters. "That was..."

I smile shyly, running a thumb over my lips. "Yeah..."

His lips form a proud smile. "Wanna get another drink? Or..."

My heart races as my mind begins to weigh all my options. Is it time to go all-in?

My breath hitches. All-in? This isn't some poker game, you idiot!

But... should I?

"M?" he calls. "Are you okay?"

Suddenly, the memories of those awful things that have happened — what Peter did, what Hayley said, what everyone on Instagram said — make their way into my mind. The pain and heartache they caused inevitably follow.

It's time, Mackenzie. It's about fucking time.

With full-on determination filling my heart and soul, I raise my gaze to meet his. "Actually, how about we go somewhere a little bit more private?"

For a quick second, he looks surprised. But then, his lips curve up into a small smile. "Okay. Just... wait here for a second, will you? I gotta say goodbye to my cousin over there." He glances at one of the rooms. "After all, it's his birthday party tonight."

"Okay," I reply. "I'll be by the bar."

Still smiling like a kid who's gotten his favorite lollipop, he nods and turns around. Within seconds, he's out of my sight. While waiting, I take a seat by the bar and order another vodka. I figure I need it if I'm going to go all-in tonight.

While I take a sip of the strong liquor, I'm beginning to sense something strange. It could only be the vodka playing mind games with me, but I feel like someone is eyeing me, observing me from head-to-toe in dangerously close proximity. What the fuck?

My eyes slowly move to the direction of the threat. When I see there's a girl's face staring at me inches away from my face, I jump out of my seat and shriek. "What the heck do you think you're doing?"

She nods to herself, as she continued to narrow her big, doe eyes in suspicion. "It's you..." the black-haired girl mutters.

"What?" I shriek. Wait a minute. The girl looks oddly familiar. Those plump cheeks, small button nose, and full lips... She looks young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen — which gets me questioning how she could get into a club. But, more importantly, where have I seen this girl before?

"You're her!" she shouts, pointing a finger at me.

I draw my brows together, unable to grasp what she's talking about. That's when Mark approaches me. With his eyes fixated on me, he asks, "Ready to go?"

"Mark?" she asks, surprised. I jerk my head back and shift my gaze to Mark. She knows him? "What are you doing with her?"

Mark shakes his head and chuckles. "Roe, need I remind you it's totally up to me to choose who I hang out with?"

Roe? Where have I heard that name?

"It's not that!" She shakes her head rapidly as her panic is spreading all over her face. "S-sh-she's the girl who broke into your apartment!"

My eyes almost pop out of their sockets and I gasp loudly. Holy crap! She's the girl in the elevator!

"What?" Mark jerks his head back, his brows are stitched together. "Roe, now come on. What did I tell you about lying?"

"I'm not lying!" the girl insists. "I saw her with my own two eyes! I can never forget that stick figure body!"

"Hey!" I protest.

"Aurora! That's enough!" Mark scolds. Turning to look at me, he asks, "That's not true, is it, M?"

"N-n—"

Before I get to answer his question, the loud screaming voice from the crowd grabs our attention. Narrowing my eyes, I try to get a closer look at what's happening. It appears there is a fight taking place near the ladies' room.

"...stop it!" a voice breaks out in the middle of the loud music. The uniquely rich voice has an unmistakable amount of rasp that I easily recognize. That's Sophia's voice!

"M?" Mark repeats, putting a hand on my shoulder and lightly shaking my body. A hint of fear is beginning to take over his eyes. "Tell me that's not true!"

"I-I..." I switch my gaze back and forth between him and the fight. What should I say? Should I just come clean? Or should I lie and tell the girl she's mistaken? Or should I just run?

Ugh! Sophia would know what to do! But...

In the meantime, the crowd makes way for the two fighting boys who are throwing punches at each other. Within a while, I can see Sophia standing next to the boys. A mixture of panic and fear is written all over her face — an expression that I've never seen displayed on her face before.

As I get a closer look at the redheaded boy, I draw my brows together and my forehead puckers. "Dylan?"

What the heck is going on?

Author's Note:

So, what do you think of this chapter? And what about the cliffhanger?

As always, don't forget to vote and comment! Thanks for reading and hope you like it! See you in the next chapter :)