Flawed Heart: House Of Obsidian - Bella Jewel Page 0,10

place, so I went with my gut and decided to dress as if I was going for a night on the town.

I pull out my phone and try to glance at my reflection on the screen, but I can’t see anything. I left my strawberry-blond hair down, but I’m starting to wonder if that was a bad idea. I already stand out in a crowd as it is. Max would never miss my hair.

He loved it.

Once.

The cab driver arrives twenty minutes later at a massive club. I stare out at it, confused. This . . . this isn’t what I remember. I glance up at the massive silver sign and it definitely says House Of Obsidian. I have vague memories of the club, and it was always nice but never this flash. Max’s dad struggled to keep the funds up to it, but this club is pristine, buzzing with people, and twice the size.

I pay the cab driver and get out of the car, moving into the crowd of people lining up at the door. It’ll be better if I’m in with them, because he’s less likely to see me. As I move towards the front of the line, I stare at the massive black deck to the left. It’s filled with people, chatting and laughing. This club is nothing like it was before. It’s so much better. Max has done an incredible job.

I flash my I.D. to the bouncer and he studies me curiously for a moment. My heart picks up a few beats because I still have Max’s last name, and I wonder if he notices. He shrugs and lets me through after a few seconds. The moment I step inside, I gasp. This is definitely not what I remember. What were once wooden floors, a chunky wooden bar and red booths are now sleek black bars, black and silver polished floors, gorgeous big booths and a massive open dance floor. Someone from behind me shoves me through and I stumble forward.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been to something like this, and I’ve never handled these situations well. I was never the clubbing, partying type. I always preferred to snuggle up watching movies, but I learned to deal with these places, because Max always liked them. I know how to handle myself, but it’s been a while. I feel like a fish out of water.

I find a space at the bar and squeeze in, glancing around, my heart pounding. I can’t see Max, but then for all I know, he’s changed and I won’t recognize him. I don’t know what I’m looking for—in my head the man I love is tall and built with dark messy hair and brown eyes. I don’t know what he’s like now, but I don’t think I’ll miss him. Max has the kind of face you never forget.

“What can I get you?” the barmaid asks, her hands moving rapidly as she serves drinks. She doesn’t even stop to look up.

“Just a vodka and cranberry, thanks.”

In seconds, she’s whipped it up and is sliding it at me. Holy crap, she’s good. I hand her the money and she runs it through the machine while holding a bottle in her free hand and pouring. Yep, she’s impressive. She moves on before I can even thank her for the drink. I take it and turn, putting the straw into my mouth and sipping as I glance around.

I have no idea where to start.

I walk through the crowd, past the booths, and find a spot in the corner of the room to stand. From there I can see the bar and the full dancing space. I study all the people, watching them dancing and grinding, laughing and kissing. My heart flutters and I focus my attention on the bar to avoid the pain seeing such affection brings.

I never considered that Max might not even be working tonight. Granted, it’s a Saturday night, and most club owners work the busy nights, but he could be sick, or away, or with . . . someone. My heart squeezes and I keep my eyes on the bar, watching everyone work. I’m focusing so hard on them that I don’t see the man and woman standing at the end of the bar. It isn’t until she moves and I catch a glimpse of his face that I turn and stare.

My heart stops beating.

I’m a good ten meters away, but even at this distance I know it’s him. The way