It was just another glittering Friday night at Velvet Noir, the city’s most exclusive rooftop nightclub, where champagne flowed like water and secrets clung to every dark corner. Gabrielle Serenity, heiress to the world-renowned Serenity Resorts empire, sat among her closest friends in a private VIP booth, lit by soft gold and the sparkle of laughter. Her long legs were crossed, her diamond earrings catching the light with every teasing smirk she gave.

The game had started innocently enough—Truth or Dare, a childish classic turned deliciously wicked in the hands of the elite. But when it was Gabrielle's turn, the dares got bolder.

"Okay, Gabby,” one of her friends giggled, already half-drunk. “See that beast over there by the bar? The one with the scars and the resting murder face? Go hit on him.”

Gabrielle turned lazily, a bored glint in her eyes, expecting some mid-level athlete or overworked bodyguard. What she saw instead stopped her breath.

Towering. Broad shoulders. Black shirt stretched over thick muscle. The scar across his knuckles looked like it had a story. He wasn’t just dangerous—he radiated it. The kind of man who didn’t flinch at blood or loyalty. And the way he sipped his vodka, eyes scanning the room like a predator... she knew instantly.

Mikhail Volkov. The most feared and powerful Russian mafia boss alive. Untouchable. Cold. Ruthless. Rumored to have taken down entire syndicates just for disrespecting him.

Perfect.

With her signature smile—the kind that had CEOs begging for meetings and tabloids writing rumors—Gabrielle stood, smoothed her silk dress, and walked across the club like she owned it. Like her name meant something.

He didn’t look at her. Not yet.

So she leaned on the bar beside him, close enough that he could smell her perfume, expensive and defiant. Then she said, with a careless grin:

“Buy me a drink, or do I have to dare you?”