Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 43856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Well. . .do you promise not to judge?”
“Of course.”
He frowned. “I made sure to work tonight since I’ve got a wife and a girlfriend, and I didn’t want to have to choose who to take out this evening.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“Uh. That’s one way to look at it.”
“You said you wouldn’t judge.”
“Hey. . .to each’s own.”
For some reason, he beamed. “Anyway, Alchemy is a big deal for a solo date. I’ve driven celebrities there—actors, musicians, even a couple of politicians. You’re in for a treat.”
I got more excited. “Cool. Now I’m getting even more hyped.”
We continued our journey, the rhythmic humming of the Phantom's engine and the soft jazz music almost lulling me into a dreamlike state.
I watched as the cityscape shifted and changed, from the glow of Times Square to the less ostentatious but just as beautiful brownstones that lined the side streets.
Our conversation ebbed and flowed into a comfortable chatter between strangers sharing a unique moment.
The whole time Dalvin guided the car through the pulse of Manhattan’s streets, weaving between steel giants and glass reflections until we arrived at a place that felt like it existed outside of this reality.
Oh wow. Is this it?
Looming before us, bathed in the amber glow of NYC’s heartbeat, was an imposing building—an architectural paradox of old-world grandeur and modern elegance.
And then, the doors.
Two massive black monoliths, each twenty feet high and five feet wide, stood like guards at the threshold of something sacred.
Like. . .seriously. . .the doors didn’t need to be that big—no earthly function required them to be—but that was the point.
They were theatrical.
An enticing declaration.
An endearing invitation.
They looked like they would swing open to reveal an enchanted kingdom—a realm where unseen forces wove possibility into reality.
Where the lost could be found.
Where the ordinary could be touched by the extraordinary.
Dalvin parked in front and got out.
When he came over to me and opened the door, I hesitated for a moment.
Not out of fear, but out of awe.
Above those doors, a single word shimmered in gold, carved with the confidence of something eternal:
Alchemy.
I let out a long sigh and left the car, saying the name in my head.
Alchemy.
This was a word steeped in ancient longing, in the dreams of those who once sought to transmute lead into gold.
Mortality into immortality.
Darkness into light.
Alchemy was the art of becoming.
Of refining.
Of emerging anew.
And as I stood there, heart hammering like an alchemist’s chisel against stone, I realized that I, too, had come here with a transformation in mind.
Not of metal.
Not of matter.
But of self.
I was here to forge something more valuable than gold.
I was here to rebuild my worth.
Reshape my radiance.
To step across this threshold and into the truth I had carried in the quiet corners of my soul all my life—that I was meant to be seen.
To be loved.
To take up space as the queen I had always known myself to be, even in the moments I had doubted it.
Even when I’d been treated like the opposite.
Dalvin smiled at me. “Make sure you have the time of your life, beautiful.”
A blushing smile spread across my face. “I will.”
Then, I exhaled and strolled forward.
Alright. Here we go.
Chapter two
The Unholy Hunger in His Eyes
Rae
I stepped inside, and the world shifted.
The first thing I noticed wasn’t the people standing in the dimly lit room but the way the space itself breathed.
The ceiling stretched high above, painted in the deepest black, scattered with tiny glimmering silver lights like an endless midnight sky.
Starlit and infinite.
There was no telling where the black walls ended, as if we had stepped into some celestial void—a place where time unraveled, and the ordinary no longer applied.
This is just. . .amazing.
A soft mist curled along the floor, delicate as silk, swirling around my ankles with each step.
The scent of something exquisite and decadent filled the air—amber, vanilla, and a hint of spicy smoke—like the lingering memory of a passionate night.
I exhaled, letting it settle into my skin.
Alright. This place is going to blow my mind.
There were others in the space too. Around seven couples, each of them beautiful, privileged, and exuding the kind of effortless wealth that didn’t need to be flaunted—it simply existed in the way they moved, the way they carried themselves.
Elegant.
Poised.
Men in tailored suits, women in dazzling gowns, furs draped over shoulders, diamonds sparkling.
Their hushed conversations spilled between soft laughter and murmured flirtations.
An older man with a sharp jawline whispered something to his much younger companion, his Patek Philippe glinting as he brushed his knuckles along the pearls at her throat.
Another woman adjusted her Cartier bracelet, leaning into her date as if he were the most fascinating man in the world.
The air crackled with intimacy and indulgence.
I inhaled slowly, steadying myself, trying not to feel like the outsider in my shimmering pink gown.
Then, I felt it.