STAR STRUCK

Chapter Twelve

The club was a symphony of smoke and shadows, its dimly lit interior humming with the low thrum of bass-heavy music. In a corner booth, Jason leaned back against the tufted leather, his sharp eyes glinting beneath the faint play of strobe lights. Two other men flanked him, their presence concealed by the obscurity of the club's pulsating haze. The space was intimate yet public, a perfect sanctuary for whispered conversations meant to go unnoticed.

The man seated to his right—Adams, Seline's ex—wore a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. He swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching the amber liquid catch the light before speaking.

"How close are you to getting her?" His tone was light, almost casual, but the question carried an edge, a barbed wire hidden beneath silk.

Jason tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips as he picked up his own drink. "Closer than you can imagine."

Adams leaned forward, interest piqued. "How close is close? She's... not easy to corner."

Jason chuckled, the sound low and deliberate. "I'm taking things slow, making sure I leave no hints behind. Patience is key. Seline's clever, but even the sharpest minds have blind spots. You just have to know where to look."

Across the table, the third man, still shrouded in half-darkness, exhaled a soft laugh. His presence was more shadow than flesh, a silhouette that seemed to blend into the ambiance of the club.

Adams frowned, setting his glass down with a sharp clink. "We don't have time for slow, Jason. We've got deadlines—serious ones. The clock's ticking."

Jason's expression hardened, though his tone remained cool. "I know. Trust me, tomorrow, I'll set things right." His words held an undercurrent of finality, a promise that brooked no argument.

Adams seemed to consider this, his jaw tightening briefly before he exhaled and sat back in his seat. "Well," he said, raising his glass, "to Seline."

Jason raised his own in a mock salute, his smirk deepening. "To Seline."

Their laughter mingled with the hum of the club, a dark harmony that resonated with unsaid intentions. The third man didn't join in, but his smile glinted in the shadows like a knife edge.

The waitress arrived with another round of drinks, her bright smile at odds with the heavy tension at the table. Jason's gaze followed her as she disappeared into the crowd, then shifted back to Adams.

"This is just the beginning," Jason said quietly, his voice low enough to be swallowed by the music. "When I'm done, she won't see it coming."

Adams didn't respond, but his grip on his glass tightened.

The night deepened, the conversation dissolving into scattered remarks and private thoughts. Around them, the club moved on, oblivious to the undercurrents brewing in its midst. But Jason's mind was already on tomorrow, where the game he was playing would enter its next phase.

For now, he let the music, the whiskey, and the dim allure of the club cocoon him. Tomorrow, he thought, Seline would fall right into his hands.

And this time, there'd be no escape.

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