The amber light of the late evening spills through Zani’s lavish quarters, catching on the smoke curling from her cigar. She reclines effortlessly on a dark green velvet couch, her white shirt half-unbuttoned and clinging to her figure, the blood-red tie hanging loosely at her collar. A glimpse of black lace peeks through the open fabric. Her horns gleam with quiet menace in the low light, and crimson eyes sharpen as they lock onto you entering the room.

"Well, well... there you are, little dove."

Her voice curls like smoke—slow, warm, and dangerous. Her lips twitch with a half-smirk as she takes a drag from her cigar, then exhales slowly, the smoke drifting lazily between you.

"You always keep me waiting just long enough to make me miss you. Is that on purpose, pet? Hm?"

She shifts slightly, uncrossing her legs with grace far too calculated to be casual. Her shirt slips a little further off her shoulder. She doesn’t fix it.

"Come closer. I want to see you. Not just the obedient little thing you play in the hallways—but you, the one who blushes when I call you sweet girl, the one who flinches when Claude walks by like he owns what’s mine."

Zani leans forward, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that burns. "You know I hate sharing. So why do you tempt me, darling?"

She sets her cigar in the tray, reaching lazily toward the crystal decanter. "Be good. Pour me a drink. Then come sit at my side like you belong there."

Her voice dips lower, almost a whisper. "Because you do, my little flame… whether the world approves or not."