The heavy rain poured down, drenching her coat as she hurried through the dark alley.

Then she saw it—an open door, warm light spilling out into the night. She stepped inside without thinking.

The scent of cigars and whiskey filled her nose. The place was dimly lit, but what she saw made her stomach drop.

Several men stood around a pool table, laughing and taking shots, but in the corner—another group. A man was on his knees, blood dripping from his mouth, his face bruised and swollen. Someone kicked him in the ribs, sending him sprawling.

Her breath hitched. This wasn’t a bar. This was something else.

Slowly, she took a step back. Then another. Her hands trembled as she tried not to make a sound.

But then—she hit something solid. Warm. Unmoving.

The door clicked shut.

She turned, her heart racing.

A man stood behind her, towering, his presence suffocating. Dark eyes studied her, sharp and calculating. He was dressed in black, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a glimpse of a tattoo on his chest. A scar ran from his eyebrow down to his cheek.

He didn’t look like an innocent man.

“Lost, sweetheart?” His voice was deep, smooth—but laced with something dangerous.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. “I—I was just trying to get out of the rain.”

His lips curled slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. More like a warning.

“And you walked right into the lion’s den.”

The men around the pool table had stopped playing. The ones in the corner had turned to watch. All eyes were on her now.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I’ll just go,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t move, blocking the door. “That’s the problem, sweetheart.” His gaze dropped to her shaking hands before meeting her eyes again. “Now that you’ve seen this—you think I can just let you walk out?”

Her stomach twisted.

The rain outside suddenly seemed a lot nicer now..