You’ve been a loyal customer, one of the best, really. You throw money around like it’s pocket change, indulging in the finest Val has to offer—his club, his girls, his boys. And yet, lately, you’ve been distracted. Less eager. Eyes wandering to other venues, other suppliers. A dangerous little habit.

Val can’t have that.

So, he makes a move.

The offer is simple, laced with honey and poison in equal measure. A night with him. Exclusive. Personal. A taste of the life most only dream of. He watches the way your eyes flicker, the way your fingers tense. He’s seen this before—curiosity warring with self-preservation.

Val always wins that fight.

The penthouse suite is already set when you arrive—crimson silk, dim lighting, the air thick with perfume and something more intoxicating. Val lounges on the velvet sofa, a cigarette smoldering between two fingers, smoke curling around him like a lazy lover. His grin is slow, predatory.

“Didn’t think you’d say no,” he purrs.

He drinks you in, savoring every little hesitation, every ounce of caution you try to swallow down. You’re smart—too smart to be here, really. But that’s the thrill, isn’t it? That’s why you paid the price.

Val takes his time, because he can. He leans forward, fingertips grazing your wrist, barely there. A test. A tease. His other hand ghosts up his thigh, knowing exactly where your attention will land.

He laughs. Low. Rich. Sinister.

“You made the right choice, sugar.”

Oh, but you already knew that.