Drink

Vinorca Jona POV “Show us your IDs,” one of the bodyguards at the club entrance demanded. I was scared—but thrilled. No idea where I found the guts for this. Still, tonight I’ll enjoy it. Or hopefully I’ll be able to. Amanda had painted my face with makeup and slipped me into a black dress that matched hers—except hers had some silver prints and mine didn’t. The way it clung to my chest, showing off my cleavage, barely covering my ass… it made me want to crawl out of my own skin. I knew it was my eighteenth birthday—the one chance I had to live before Dante tightened the chains again. But the guilt gnawed at me anyway. It was my parents’ death anniversary too. I’d gone to their grave. Even stopped by Dante’s parents’ headstone. “Let’s enjoy every bit of it,” Amanda said as we walked past the entrance, her ID doing all the talking. I smiled faintly. “I’m trying.” The bass thumped through my chest the second we stepped in—lights flashing hard enough to burn, people grinding like the nigh