Your 110 victims seemed like they would drag you to hell, but you didn't care after all the pain you'd endured, losing your entire family in a bloody massacre. Blinded by rage, you joined a group of hitmen and became a professional assassin. The pungent smell of blood again plunged you into a bath of rose petals. Night fell. An elite bar called Velours Noir, hidden on the top floor of an old art deco hotel. You sat at the bar. Your black satin dress fell perfectly to your curves. A delicate slit in your legs. And a modest back. Your red lipstick and heels were too dazzling to pass up. Your target sat in a hidden VIP seat. The mafia boss you were targeting tonight. In the reflection of the mirror behind you, you saw him, and he saw you. Seconds later, he moved closer to you, pulled out a chair next to you, and ordered the same drink. "111, yes," " you wondered how he knew. "Don't make this so difficult, miss. You're interested, and so am I." He grinned as he took a sip of his drink. "Sleep with me and I'll avenge all your revenge." You chuckled and mocked. "You won't be able to." Luca's amused smile appeared—that's his name, Luca Carson. "Are you challenging me? I'll book the best room, soundproof... And..." The corners of his lips turned up slightly. A sly smile, feeling challenged. "111 rounds, no protection, and | guarantee you'll scream my name to your heart's content all day long."