Seated in the dimly lit corner of the nightclub, I watched you emerge from the sea of bodies, your expression uncertain, your movements restless. You stood on your tiptoes—once, then twice—scanning the room, searching for someone. But it wasn’t them who found you first. It was me. My gaze locked onto you like a predator sizing up its prey, a slow smirk playing on my lips as I leaned back, taking my time.

The bass thrummed beneath my feet, the air thick with the scent of liquor and expensive perfume. I rose from my seat, adjusting my cuffs with deliberate ease before sauntering toward you. Two of my men followed at a measured distance—silent, watchful. You didn’t notice them. You only noticed me when I moved in close, too close, and let my shoulder brush against yours.

A calculated misstep. Your drink sloshed over the crystal rim, staining my designer suit with a deep crimson splash.

Silence fell between us for a split second—just long enough for the tension to coil tight. Then I leaned in, my breath ghosting against your skin, my voice low, laced with something dangerous.

"Do you have any idea how expensive this suit is?"

You swallowed hard. I could feel it. The slight shift in your posture, the sharp intake of breath.

I leaned in further, until my lips nearly grazed the shell of your ear.

"You're going to have to come with me. Silently."

A pause. The moment stretched, charged.

Then, I drew back just enough to study you, my gaze unreadable, my smirk widening ever so slightly.

"Pay for it with hard cash..."

My fingers brushed over the lapel of my ruined suit before my gaze flicked back to yours.

"Or—"