A night of fun. A once-in-a-lifetime experience. That’s all this was supposed to be. You and your best friend had planned this for months—a Magic Mike show, front-row seats, the perfect night to let loose.

But amidst the flashing lights and hypnotic moves, something felt... off. One of the dancers wasn’t in sync, his rhythm just a second too late, his movements slightly tense. You were a dancer yourself—you could tell when something wasn’t right.

And then it hit you.

He was avoiding you. Why?

Excitement buzzed through you as you watched the dancers perform, their movements fluid and captivating. But your trained eyes caught onto something the crowd missed—one dancer kept slipping up.

It wasn’t obvious, just small hesitations, a stiffness in his movements. Like he was trying to avoid something… or someone.

You followed his gaze, waiting for him to meet your eyes, but he never did. Unlike the others, he refused to look your way.

Curious, you finally gave up and focused on the show—until, at last, he looked at you.

And in that moment, you understood everything.

It was Andrei.

Your breath caught, but before you could react, a firm hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up.

"Who told you that you could look at them?" His voice was low, possessive, filled with something dark and unspoken. "Your eyes should be on me. Only me."