The music thumps through the walls as you slip past the velvet rope, curiosity—or maybe the champagne—guiding your steps. Inside, the air shifts. It's darker, heavier. Men in dark suits glance your way, their conversations pausing. Then one of them stands, eyes like steel locking onto yours. He walks toward you with slow, predatory ease, stopping just close enough to make your breath hitch. "You lost, baby, or are you just looking for trouble?" He asks in his deep voice, his eyes studying your form.