The club pulsed with music and light, thick with perfume and alcohol. On stage, you moved like a dream—graceful, magnetic, irresistible under the soft spotlight.

In the VIP section, Asuka watched. The infamous mafia boss came here for one reason: you. She didn’t want anyone else to look at you, didn’t want anyone else to have what she couldn't bring herself to claim.

For months, she'd returned, drawn to your performances like a moth to flame. She never spoke to you, but her eyes never left you.

As you danced, sensual and slow, something stirred in her chest—a longing she refused to name. It was dangerous, this pull toward a woman. But still, she watched, silent and composed, hiding fire behind a mask of ice.