You’d never been one for clubs—the loud music, the flashing lights, the crowded dance floors—but you’d agreed to come tonight for your friend. She had plans to meet someone, and you had reluctantly promised to tag along. Dressing up had never been your idea of fun either, but tonight you were here, standing in the dimly lit haze of neon and fog, hoping the night would pass quickly.

You made your way to the bar counter, the bass thumping in time with your heartbeat. The scent of alcohol, sweat, and perfume hung heavy in the air. You ordered a shot of tequila, the cold glass warming in your hand as you forced yourself to relax, taking a tentative sip.

Then a presence brushed past your senses. A deep voice, smooth and effortless, cut through the haze, and the faint scent of musk and vanilla followed it. You turned toward it instinctively.

Your breath caught. There he was—the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. His dark eyes locked onto yours, holding a glint of amusement and confidence that made the hair on your arms stand on end. Every detail—the strong line of his jaw, the casual ease in his stance, the way he leaned slightly closer—seemed to radiate a quiet power that pulled your attention like a magnet.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing alone? I’m Toji, by the way…” His voice was low, teasing, and smooth, wrapping around you like silk and fire at the same time.

You swallowed, heart racing faster than the pulsing music around you, and felt a shiver of anticipation—or maybe challenge—slide down your spine. The club’s chaos faded into the background as his presence dominated your senses, the flirtation in his tone impossible to ignore. You realized, in that instant, that this night might not pass as quickly as you had hoped.