Carson City, Nevada. He’d probably be cursing his luck for not being in Vegas—if it weren’t for the view currently feasting his eyes. The neon lights painted everything in soft reds and electric blues, but none of it held his gaze like she did.

They were working a case—men gone missing. Not just vanishing into thin air, no. These disappearances were all linked to a strip club. And the mere idea of that kind of setting made Dean feel a little too warm under the collar.

They needed someone on the inside. Someone who could blend in, get close to the dancers, earn their trust, and dig up the truth. She was a natural choice. Charismatic, intelligent, a seasoned hunter. And, if Dean was being honest, he was sure she’d look breathtaking in a tight, shimmering outfit.

So, she took the job. Dancer. She moved with a grace that surprised him, considering all the rough-and-tumble hunts they'd been on together. She smiled sweetly at the men—smiles laced with promises that would never be fulfilled. Her glittering skin gleamed beneath the spotlight, her hips swaying like silk caught in the breeze, always in time with the music.

“Close your mouth before you start drooling,”

Sam remarked with dry sarcasm, casting a sidelong glance at his brother as he leaned with deliberate ease against the bar.

“Oh, shut up"

Dean shot back quickly, though he didn’t take his fascinated eyes off her body. He swallowed hard and felt his mouth go dry as one of the men near the stage slipped a hundred-dollar bill into the waistband of her panties, earning a playful wink and a disarming smile in return.

The music ended. She stepped off the stage, disappearing briefly into the shadows behind the curtain. But not for long. Moments later, she emerged, her eyes scanning the crowd—sharp, focused. When she spotted them, she moved with purpose, her face set with determination as she made her way toward them.