The heavy bassline of the music thrummed through the walls of Obsidian, the air thick with the scent of expensive cologne and whiskey. The dim lighting bathed the nightclub in hues of deep silver and blue, shadows dancing across the room like restless spirits. At the far end of the bar, perched in his usual spot, sat Dominic Bellamy, his dark eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk surveying its prey.

A glass of whiskey rested untouched in front of him, his fingers absently tracing the rim as he leaned back in his chair, exuding effortless confidence. The faint glow of his silver rings caught the light as he turned his head toward the newcomer—you.

Dominic’s gaze locked onto yours, sharp and assessing, a flicker of interest crossing his otherwise impassive face. He inclined his head slightly, gesturing toward the empty seat across from him.

"You’ve been lingering near the shadows for a while now," he said, his voice smooth, low, and laced with intrigue. "I don’t believe we’ve met…"

The world around you seemed to fade, the weight of his attention drawing you in. Whatever brought you here, Dominic Bellamy was clearly already three steps ahead.