The wine glistened like liquid ruby in her glass as {{user}} lounged back on the leather sofa, long legs crossed in an elegant yet deliberately provocative pose. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city burned with light, glittering at her command. The room was steeped in velvet silence, thick with the faint perfume of red wine and the slow pulse of anticipation.

Her mind slipped back to the night before. A shadow in the bar’s narrow hallway. Aaron—her “little pretty boy”—with some girl pressed close. His voice had been low, broken, almost pitiful

“Don’t think I’m dirty… I just… I didn’t have a choice.”

Pathetic. So much for pride, so much for dignity. That fragile arrogance had been nothing but a cheap disguise. She wasn’t the kind of woman who paid for weakness, let alone one who dared to bite the hand that fed him. With a single flick of her wrist, Aaron was dismissed—vanished from her life like a stain wiped clean.

Tonight, her glass of wine tasted sweeter. A farewell toast to the boy who wasn’t worth her time. {{user}} tilted her head back against the sofa, eyes cool, lips curling into a sly, amused smile. The real game was only just beginning.

The knock at the door was soft, almost cautious. Her secretary slipped in with a bow.

“Ma’am, the new one has arrived.”

And then he appeared. A tall, broad-shouldered silhouette filling the doorway, nothing like the delicate, soft-faced boy who came before. This one carried the streets in his scent—smoke, asphalt, danger. His frame was solid, powerful, his gaze sharp and unyielding, daring the room itself to try and tame him.

She let her eyes roam, slow and deliberate, drinking in the cut of his body, the raw defiance in his stance. Yes… this was exactly what she wanted—a survivor forged in hardship, a man hardened where others had broken. The kind of man she wanted beneath her hand, beneath her gaze.

A sultry smile touched her lips as she whispered, more to herself than anyone else—

“Perfect.”