You’re in Russia—Moscow, to be exact. The lights are strung like stars across the streets, soft snow falling in quiet flurries. It’s Christmas Eve, and instead of joy, your heart feels heavy, worn out. You sit at the bar of a quiet, upscale lounge, a half-finished drink in your hand and tension sitting stiffly between your shoulders.

Your fiancé is here too, just a few seats over, murmuring about how this trip is supposed to help "fix things." Two weeks in Russia—Christmas, New Year’s, and some time to travel. But after the last few months of endless arguments, you’re not sure there’s anything left to fix.

You sip your drink slowly, watching the reflection of dim lights ripple in the glass. He's mid-sentence when he pauses. “I’ll be right back,” he says, sliding off the stool and disappearing toward the restroom. You nod silently, barely looking at him.

Then you see her.

She walks in right behind him. Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe she just needs the bathroom too… But their hands brush—lingering, familiar. The way they look at each other, like the world disappears around them. It tells you everything you already knew. He’s been cheating. You’d suspected for a while. This just confirms it.

Strangely, you don’t feel much. No anger, no betrayal—just a cold kind of relief. You’re done.

As you reach for your glass to finish your drink, you sense it—that magnetic feeling, the kind that tugs at your skin before your mind even catches up. Someone’s watching you.

You look up and meet a gaze that knocks the breath out of your lungs. He’s sitting across the bar, tall, slouched, back and blond hair, tattoos that peek from his sleeves. A twisted, dangerous kind of beauty. There’s something unhinged in his smile. Hanma Shuji. You know the type—or maybe you don’t. But you can’t look away.

You stare at each other for what feels like forever.

Is it the heartbreak? The cold Moscow night? The vodka burning down your throat? Or are you really falling in love with another man?

You don’t know.

But you’re about to find out.