Ellie’s POV
The place Dominic wound up taking me to that night was a lounge in the neutral territory. The sign out front glowed neon, displaying the name of the lounge, with a depiction of a woman sitting on a crescent
moon.
Dominic’s Beta dropped us off out front. Before I could get out, Dominic ran around to my side of the car and opened my door for me, offering his hand.
I hesitated but took it, and let him help me out of the car.
Inside, the air smelled like expensive perfume and even more expensive liquor. A woman in a shimmering red gown was singing in front of a golden microphone on a stage against the far wall. Everything was dark and moody and all of the guests were dressed impeccably.
The host led us to a booth that was more private than the tables, with curtains that could be drawn shut around it if we wanted. I didn’t reach for them as I sat.
“Negroni,” I said to the waiter when he came to take our orders. I checked my nails while Dominic ordered his own drink and an appetizer to share.
“You look nice tonight,” Dominic said once we were alone.
I glanced down at the simple black cocktail dress I’d chosen for tonight. I hadn’t exactly gone out of my way to get dressed up; my hair was still in its braid, and I’d foregone makeup entirely. I didn’t intend to stay out for long.
“Thanks,” I said. I looked at him. He’d selected a white button down with the first two buttons open, the sleeves rolled partially up his forearms. I hated that he looked good. Like, really good. “You’re not so bad, yourself.”
His mouth curved. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“Since when have I ever been nice for the sake of it?” I asked.
Dominic looked like he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Our drinks came along with a steaming plate of oysters. He took a sip from his drink and leaned back, crossing his legs.
“So,” he said. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone out like this.”
I looked around. At the guests. The singer. The decor. Anything but him. “This is a nice place.”
“I knew you’d like it.” Dominic leaned in a little. “I knew you’d enjoy laughing at the rich drunk people.
As he said it, he nudged me with his elbow, nodding toward a couple by the stage who were leaning heavily on each other, practically holding one another up as they swayed-or rather, staggered-to the music.
My lips twitched. “You’re not wrong.”

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