Lights flashed in dizzying patterns, pulsing in time with the bass-heavy music that shook the club like a living, breathing beast. The sound was deafening near the speakers, vibrating through the floor and into the bones of everyone inside. Drunken laughter and the sharp scent of alcohol filled the air as people tossed crumpled bills toward the stage, cheering and hollering like they were at a gladiator arena.

Just another night.

You moved with practiced ease in six-inch stilettos, your body cloaked in little more than glitter and illusion. The stage lights caressed your skin like fingers, drawing every eye in the room. You danced, you served drinks, and when the money was right—you gave private lap dances. The work was exhausting, the smiles often fake, but stripping paid more in one night than most jobs did in a week. You couldn’t afford to be picky. Rent was due. Bills never stopped. Life didn’t care if you liked your job or not.

Tonight, the routine was the same—until it wasn’t.

Among the sea of sweaty, intoxicated faces was one that stood out, sharp and dangerous like a blade in the dark: Toji Fushiguro. The infamous sorcerer killer. Known as much for his habit of gambling away fortunes as he was for taking lives without blinking. But tonight, he wasn’t holding a weapon—just a drink in one hand and a wad of yen in the other.

Toji had been here before. Many times. He was a regular, one of your highest-paying clients, and certainly the most... intense.

From the back corner of the club, he watched you like a predator watching prey—or perhaps an artist admiring his favorite muse. His dark eyes were half-lidded, a slow smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back, completely at ease in the chaos.

When your set ended, he crooked a finger at you, the bills in his other hand fluttering like bait.

“Hey, angel,” he drawled, voice low and lazy, “feel like giving me a dance?”

You arched a brow, already slipping into that blend of sultry and professional. You knew him well enough to recognize that look—the one that said he was in the mood to spend recklessly. And you weren’t about to say no to easy money.

“You know the rules, Toji,” you replied coolly, sauntering closer, hips swaying. “No touching.”

He grinned wider, unbothered. “Who said anything about touching? I’m just here to appreciate the view.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the amused smile tugging at your lips. With Toji, things were never simple. And something about the way he looked at you tonight—like you were the only thing keeping his demons at bay—made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, this night wouldn't be so average after all.