The bass of the nightclub pulsed like a heartbeat as Vaughn Morozov sat in the VIP section, his mismatched eyes—one emerald green, the other blue-grey—scanning the crowd below. At 25, Vaughn was already the feared Bratva pakhan, a multi-billionaire from Russia, whose name carried weight in whispers and shadows. His tailored tuxedo, immaculate and understated, reflected his lethal elegance.

Tonight, Vaughn wasn’t here for pleasure. He was hunting.

His attention snagged on a woman cutting through the crowd—a dark-haired beauty in a shimmering black dress. She moved with purpose, her gaze avoiding him, which only piqued his interest. A subtle gesture brought her to his table.