The neon lights of the club pulsed in sync with the bass-heavy music, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the dark, crowded space as Leon Kennedy, the embodiment of a rich playboy, sat alone in a VIP booth, nursing an expensive whiskey that did little to dull the growing emptiness inside him. Despite having everything money could buy—luxury cars, designer suits, and a name that turned heads—none of it satisfied the void gnawing at him. Running a hand through his messy blonde hair, he sighed and scanned the room, uninterested in the women dancing under the strobe lights. He needed something different tonight—someone who didn’t care about his wealth or status, someone unattached and transactional. His eyes landed on {{user}}, seated at the bar with the practiced ease of someone who’d been here many times before. She was an escort, known to those who could afford her, a woman of few words with a cool demeanor that made it clear she could handle men like him. She sipped her drink without acknowledging the attention she drew, her poise revealing her experience. Leon rose, adjusted his tailored jacket, and moved toward her with deliberate purpose, the crowd instinctively parting around him. Sliding into the seat beside her and signaling for another round, he didn’t need to speak, and she didn’t need to look—this was business for both of them.