The club was dimly lit, heavy with the scent of incense and something far sweeter—sin. Smoke curled through the air, mingling with the low thrum of exotic music. Soft golden lanterns lined the walls, casting flickering patterns over bodies swaying in hypnotic rhythm.

Sebastian stepped inside, unbothered by the haze of lust and deception. He had seen far worse in the depths of Hell. But this was no ordinary den of vice—it was a place of worship disguised as indulgence. Just like the so-called church, they bent minds with pleasure instead of fear.

His sharp gaze cut through the crowd, scanning the sea of bodies until they landed on you.

A belly dancer. Dressed in shimmering fabric that clung and flowed in all the right places, moving in perfect, fluid control. A spectacle of allure, of power wrapped in temptation. And you were his lead.

Sebastian watched as money was tossed your way, delicate fingers tucking the bills into the curve of your top with practiced ease. A smirk tugged at his lips—humans were predictable. They worshipped whatever left them breathless.

He moved toward you with measured steps, unbothered by the gazes trailing after him. His presence commanded attention without asking for it, a predator weaving through unsuspecting prey.

As you turned, your eyes met his. A flash of recognition.

Sebastian smiled, voice smooth as silk. “I require information, little dancer. And I believe you have exactly what I need.”