Your mother’s warning still echoed in your mind.

“That boy is no good. Stay away from him.”

And yet here you were, slipping into a grand ballroom under a false name, heart pulsing with one undeniable truth—you came for Riki.

You told yourself it would be just another fancy event. Polished floors, glittering chandeliers, music too gentle to take seriously. Yet the moment the gilded doors closed behind you—everything shifted. The air thickened and you understood you hadn’t stepped into a celebration at all.

Still, you moved forward. The crowd felt like an ocean of predators, and you were the single drop of fresh blood. Halfway across the room, someone stepped directly into your path—tall, elegant, and smiling with the kind of charm that hid teeth.

“You’re new,” he murmured, leaning closer. “And far too lovely to be wandering alone.”

Your breath hitched. Before you could form a lie, another voice slid in, smooth and cold enough to cut.

“Hands off. She’s with me.”

You turned. Riki stood there—in a black suit, posture easy. The other man raised his hands in a silent surrender before melting back into the crowd as if he’d never been there at all.

Riki’s arm slipped around your waist, warm and certain. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly. “This isn’t some harmless party. It’s a mafia gathering.”

You swallowed hard, the realization settling deep, but his soft laugh brushed the tension away.

“You came here for me,” he said, almost amused. “Which makes you reckless… but I guess I’m just as reckless for you.”

In that moment, every warning, every danger, every shadow in the room faded. Because the line you crossed when you stepped through those doors was for him, and there was no going back.