Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles novel Chapter 104

ria’s POV:

Grace arrives at my apartment just as I’m about to throw on something simple. Her car pulls up with the familiar hum of its engine, and I can already hear the music blasting from inside. When I open the door, she’s standing there, her blonde hair tumbling in loose waves around her shoulders, her red lipstick as bold as always. She’s dressed in a tight black dress that hugs her curves, paired with strappy heels that click on the pavement as she makes her way to me. I can already see the excitement in her eyes, and I know she’s been planning this night for days. “Let’s go, Aria. Tonight’s about you forgetting everything,” she says, practically bouncing with energy. I force a smile, the thought of being out in the chaos of a club far from comforting, but I know I have to do something to get out of my own head. I grab my jacket and follow her out the door. The drive to the club is a blur. The city lights streaking past the window, Grace humming along to some pop song, while I just stare out, lost in my thoughts. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this–if I’ll ever be ready to just let go–but Grace won’t let me back out now. So, I let the car’s engine drown out the voice in my head telling me to turn back.

As soon as we step inside the club, the atmosphere hits me like a wave. The lights are dim, but neon glows illuminate the space, casting an otherworldly hue on everything. The music thumps in the air, deep bass vibrating through my chest. Bodies move in sync, grinding against each other in a sea of lust and rhythm. The crowd is lively, but it’s not as chaotic as I expected. This isn’t just any club; it’s one of the high–end spots Grace has always talked about–exclusive, with velvet ropes, secret VIP areas, and a polished feel despite the wild energy. It’s sophisticated in a way that makes me feel out of place. The leather booths, marble tables, and crystal chandeliers give it a classiness that doesn’t match the sweaty grind of the dance floor below.

Grace is already leading me past the crowd, her heels clicking with each confident step, her smile wide as she nods at familiar faces. She knows everyone here. Her connections are everything, and she’s practically a queen in this space. I follow behind her, trying not to feel too small in comparison, but it’s hard not to notice the way people step aside for her, the attention she commands. I don’t belong in this world.

‘Don’t worry, just relax,” she calls over her shoulder, already heading toward the bar. As we pass the crowded dance floor, I spot people in designer outfits, swaying to the beat, but my mind is elsewhere. The constant movement around me makes me dizzy, the air thick with the smell of expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol. I try to shake off the tension in my shoulders, but it’s impossible. Grace orders us drinks, her voice barely audible over the loud music, but it’s the least of my worries. As the bartender hands me my strawberry daiquiri, I take a long sip, trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The thumping bass of the music vibrates through my chest as I step into the club. The lights are blinding, flashing in every direction, each one creating a rainbow of colors that blend together. I can smell the mixture of perfume, sweat, and the faint scent of alcohol in the air. It makes my head feel light, my stomach swirling with unease. I don’t belong here.

I glance at Grace, who’s already making her way to the bar, waying me over with a big grin on her face. She looks at home in this chaos–like she was made for it. I, on the other hand, feel like I’m standing in the middle of a storm, just waiting to be swept away.

“Come on, Aria, loosen up! It’s just one night!” Grace shouts over the music, her excitement infectious. She’s already ordered us drinks by the time I catch up to her. A strawberry daiquiri, my favorite, with a little umbrella sticking out of the glass. I hesitate before grabbing it, the cool glass feeling odd in my hand. The sweetness of the drink stings my tongue as I take a sip, but the burn in my throat somehow matches the

ache in my chest.

“Come on, another shot!” Grace urges, already holding up a shot of something darker and stronger.

I take it, the alcohol searing my throat before the warmth spreads to my limbs. For a moment, I try to focus on the moment, laughing with Grace as she talks about her latest work drama, but it feels hollow. Like I’m pretending to be happy, when inside, everything is still tangled up. The triplets. The lies. The distance.

A guy approaches the bar, his presence easy to ignore at first. He’s tall, but not as tall as them. He doesn’t have that overpowering presence that always seems to command attention when the triplets walk into a room. But he’s handsome, in a boyish way–not at all like the dangerous, sinful allure the triplets have. His hair is short and messy, a deep shade of brown, and his smile seems kind enough. There’s something in the way he carries himself that doesn’t scream dangerous,‘ but it’s almost… boring.

“Hi, I’m Henry,” he says, flashing me a smile that doesn’t make my heart race, but it’s enough to pull me out of my thoughts. He doesn’t look anything like them. Good. Maybe it’s what I need.

1/2

Chapter 104

1 smile back, feeling a little awkward. “I’m Aria.”

“Nice to meet you, Aria,” he says, and I nod, taking another sip of my daiquiri. His voice fades as he talks about himself, mentioning his age, his job as an engineer. I’m barely listening, though. His words blend together, a distant hum in the background of my mind.

Instead, I’m scanning the room, trying to distract myself. The flashing lights, the crowd of people, the overwhelming noise. It’s all too much. And then, my eyes lock on them. The triplets.

They’re standing across the room, leaning against the bar, looking like they own the place. Like they belong here in this world. And their eyes… their eyes are locked on me. All three of them, their gazes piercing through the crowd, straight to where I stand.

They’re standing in the VIP section upstairs, a private area cordoned off by velvet ropes, and even though it’s a little farther away, I still can’t seem to shake them off. They stand apart from the crowd, leaning casually against the railing, their commanding presence making them seem like they own the entire club.

My stomach drops, and my heart skips a beat. The tension in the air thickens, and the loud music around me feels muffled, like it’s coming from underwater.

Oh, fuck.

I don’t even know how to breathe as I stare at them. The anger and hurt I thought I had tucked away rush back in a flood. I want to run. I want to disappear into the crowd. But I can’t move, my feet frozen in place.

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