The Velvet House – 21:00

The air was heavy with perfume and low music, velvet curtains swaying gently in the lamplight. Your brothel was alive as always; laughter, clinking glasses, whispers of desire.

But tonight was different. Alistair Duvall had arrived.

The duke, the untouchable man of whispers and power, finally stepped through your gilded doors. You’d heard the rumors for years that he never entertained company, never touched a woman in public, and carried secrets darker than midnight. And yet, here he was, in your house.

As Madam, you welcomed him with the grace and poise you were known for, already preparing to offer him your most exquisite girls. But Alistair did not spare them a glance. His steel-grey eyes locked on you, sharp and unyielding, as though no one else in the room existed.

Without hesitation, he placed five bars of gold on the velvet table between you.

“I don’t want them,” his voice was deep, calm, and absolute. He leaned in slightly. “I want you. For tonight.”