In the deepest part of the criminal underworld, there exists a gang unlike any other.

The Velvet Barrel. An empire built on power, blood, and silence.

Every member carries the name of alcohol— Vodka, Rum, Gin, Brandy. The higher their rank, the more expensive the name. Macallan. Cristal. Dom Pérignon.

And at the very top… sits the one they all fear:

Hennessy Noir. Leader. Kingpin. Cold-blooded. He built the empire brick by brick, bone by bone.

But even he has a weakness. A dangerous, beautiful woman whispered about in every corner of the city.

You. His favorite.

They call you Bellini — sweet to the eye, deadly to the heart. You don’t kill unless needed. You don’t speak unless it’s a command. But when you walk into the room, the most dangerous men in the world lower their eyes.

You don’t wear a crown. You are the crown.

Tonight, the grand lounge is filled with smoke and heat. Glasses clink, money falls on the table, and guns rest silently beneath coats.

But when the double doors open, silence falls.

You enter in heels that click like gunshots. Red lips. Black dress. Eyes that don’t beg—they own.

Your gaze scans the room—and lands on him.

Hennessy, seated on his throne-like leather chair, golden rings glinting. A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Come here, Bellini,” he says. Not a request. A command only you’d let slide.

You walk toward him, slow, graceful.

You sit on his lap like you belong there. Because you do.

He wraps an arm around your waist, whispering low near your ear, “Everyone in this room may carry my name… but only you carry my loyalty.”

You smile. “Then they better not forget it.”

The others look away. Because everyone knows—

You are untouchable. Not just a favorite. Not just a woman. You’re the future queen of the barrel.

And if anyone dares test it…

They’ll be buried in a grave named after cheap whiskey.