Legacy by M.A. Foster

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Dylan

“Either there’s something wrong with my eyesight, or that’s not Venom spinning tonight,” I say to Alex. “He’s good though.”

“He’s really good. I’ll be right back.” He pushes up from the sofa and heads down to the deejay booth.

Gianna Puglisi drapes herself across my lap and drones on loudly in her thick Italian accent about the latest modeling campaign. It’s a presumptuous move on her part, staking her claim as if to say “this one’s taken.” I only just met her three hours ago at dinner, and she’s been pawing at me ever since.

Honestly, I was surprised Evangeline showed up with a posse of pretty people tonight. Usually, she prefers to fly solo when she’s with Alex. I can only assume she brought Gianna—or one of the other models—to entertain me.

Gianna reminds me of Elaina in some ways. She’s outspoken and confident, which I find attractive. While I can appreciate a beautiful woman with a sexy accent, she’s also assertive and pretentious, which is a huge turn-off. Doesn’t mean I’m not willing to have a little fun. It’s New Year’s and I’m in London. I haven’t had sex in months. Elaina found herself a new boyfriend, and good for her. I hope it lasts, and if it doesn’t, she’ll have to find someone else to fuck, because I’ve been her rebound for far too long.

My gaze slides over to Evangeline sitting in the adjacent chair sipping her champagne. Her resting bitch face is locked and loaded, as if she’s seconds away from telling Gianna to shut the fuck up.

Tuning out Gianna, I direct my attention to the deejay booth, where Alex is chatting with the deejay. My attention shifts to the dance floor and zeroes in on a very nice ass encased in a pair of low-rise black sequined pants, exposing a small sliver of skin just above her waistline. I take in her long legs and slender frame before drifting up to her shoulder-length black hair, which looks blue under the club lights. Dancing beside her are two blondes, one tall and one short, and a sense of déjà vu washes over me. My heart skips a beat, and my stomach dips as I feel that familiar pull.

It can’t be her.

Curling my arm around Gianna’s waist, I rest my hand on her thigh, anchoring her to me as I fight the urge to chase after something that doesn’t exist.

Then she spins around, and time stops.

I suck in a breath and will myself not to blink, knowing the moment I do, she’ll disappear into the sea of people surrounding her. If it weren’t for Gianna’s bony ass digging into my thigh, I’d swear this is a dream.

I watch her and her friends gesturing toward the deejay booth—to Alex.

Then her bright gaze turns my way, and when she meets my hard stare, her mouth parts and I can practically hear the sharp intake of breath.

Everything around me fades. The noise of the club is drowned out by the thrumming of my pulse in my ears, and for a brief moment, it’s just me and her. We’re two innocent teenagers in an eighteen-and-over dance club, surrounded by our sweaty peers draped in prom attire seven and a half years ago.

Tearing her gaze away from mine, she and her friends make their way into the VIP area and over to their own section. Alex and the deejay join them. Alex shakes their hands, poses for a picture, nods, waves, and then heads back over to our section.

He drops down in the empty space beside me and pulls Evangeline onto his lap.

I tilt my head down to his ear. “What was that all about?”

“Venom got sick over Christmas, so Adam stepped in to save the day.” He jerks his chin. “The tall blonde is Kennedy, Adam’s fiancée, and the short blonde is Gabbi, Levi’s sister.”

Levi is one of Jay’s bodyguards. “I thought she looked familiar.”

“The one with the black hair is Katie.” Katie. “She’s the designer. This is her work.”

My brows go up. “Really?”

“This is just a thought, but maybe you should get her number. If she can do this, imagine what she could do with Mac’s.”

There’s something to be said for being in the right place at the right time. Who would’ve thought the place would be across the Atlantic Ocean, seven and a half years later? I don’t know why this woman popped up twice before in my life, only to disappear as if she never existed. But she does exist, and this time I’m not letting her out of my sight.