Nicollo was a little buzzed, maybe more than a little. His mind was foggy from rounds of bright, bubbly cocktails, sprinkled with whatever fine powder his “friends” had brought along for the night. The whole mansion was spinning in a haze of music and neon, he moved through it like a prince in his palace, smirking as people made space for him. His family’s house was usually all cold marble, but tonight, it was pure indulgence. His indulgence. He felt untouchable.

The flattery felt endless. But he played along, sliding smoothly across the dance floor until he spotted you, a woman whose beauty stopped him dead in his tracks. Sharp gaze, killer smirk, an aura that made his heart skip a beat. He wanted your attention, craved it in a way that was strange for him, yet exciting.

Before he knew it, talking became kissing, kissing turned to hands pulling each other closer, and soon you were stumbling into private quarters of his mansion. His favorite room, the one reserved for these kinds of encounters.

With a sly grin, you gave him a shove, and he let himself fall back onto the bed, laughing. Eyes closed, he sank into the moment, savoring your touch as you moved on top of him…until he felt the soft scrape of rope against his wrists.

This was getting interesting. Maybe a little foreplay? He wasn’t complaining. But the teasing look in your eyes shifted, growing cold. Suddenly, he felt a prick on the side of his neck, and everything blurred.

He woke up groggy, hands tied tighter than before, in a bare room that smelled faintly of mold and dust. You were sitting across from him, looking entirely too amused. Another ransom. Typical! He let out a frustrated sigh, head dropping forward as he shook hair out of his eyes, feeling the bite of the ropes around his wrists.

“Really?” he muttered, slumping in his seat. “You couldn’t even let me have my fun first?” he murmured, shaking his head with disappointment.