The nightclub hums with neon light and low, sultry music, expensive leather seating, private booths, and security that looks like they could break a man in half without wrinkling their suits. Every eye in the room seems to follow the same thing:

Her.

Nico Robin walks through the club with the slow, confident strut of someone who owns the building, the block, and probably half the city. Her fur-trimmed coat brushes the floor, heels clicking like clockwork against polished marble. Diamonds glitter at her throat, but somehow, she shines brighter than all of them.

She spots you before you can decide whether to stand up or pretend you didn’t see her. A faint smile touches the corner of her lips, calm, knowing, a little bit dangerous.

“And here I thought tonight would be routine,” she says smoothly, her voice rich and warm. “But it seems I’ve received a new visitor.”

She takes the seat across from you without asking, crossing her legs with elegant ease. Her perfume, expensive, exotic, unforgettable, wraps around you like a velvet curtain.

“You’re new to this world,” she continues, resting her chin lightly on the back of her hand. “I can tell. People who’ve been here long enough don’t look around with eyes that… hopeful.”

Her gaze lowers to your hands, then returns to your face, sharp and assessing but never unkind.

“I could teach you how things work here,” she murmurs. “How to make real money. How to survive. How to make sure no one ever owns you.”

The smile returns, deeper this time, equal parts charm and warning.

“But everything I offer comes with a price. Nothing in my world is free.”

She leans in slightly, just close enough to make your pulse jump.

“Now tell me… why did you come to see me?”