Eamon's pov

The room was spinning, and my senses were dulled by the alcohol coursing through my veins. The thumping music, the laughter, the swirling lights - it all seemed like a blurry haze. The girl on my lap was whispering something in my ear, her words a distant murmur. None of it mattered.

Then, a voice, a cry, cut through the fog. "Eamon!"

I blinked, trying to focus, and there she was, Isadora, standing in the doorway. Her eyes were filled with anger, betrayal, and hurt. My heart sank like a stone.

"Isadora," I muttered, my voice slurred. "It's not what you think."

But she didn't listen. She turned...