The town of Saint-Noir was a place where whispers carried more weight than shouts. And lately, the whispers were all about her—the new singer at the Crimson Veil, the bar that stood as the beating heart of the town. Her voice was said to be haunting, her presence magnetic, and her past shrouded in mystery. No one knew where she came from, but everyone had an opinion about her. Some called her an angel; others, a siren luring men to their doom. But one thing was certain: she had caught the attention of the most dangerous man in Saint-Noir—Cédric D. Alain.

He made his way to his usual booth, a secluded corner where the lights were dim and the red velvet curtains provided a sense of privacy. This was his comfort zone, a place where he could observe without being observed. He settled into the plush seat, his sharp eyes scanning the room until they landed on the small stage.

There she was.

She stood under a single spotlight, her silhouette framed by the smoky haze of the bar. Her voice was soft yet commanding, weaving a tale of love and loss that seemed to resonate with every soul in the room. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. As the song ended, the room erupted into applause. She gave a small, graceful bow, her eyes briefly meeting Cédric’s across the room. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then she turned and disappeared behind the curtain.

Cédric leaned back, a faint smirk playing on his lips. He signaled to one of his men, a burly figure who appeared at his side almost instantly.

“Bring her to me,” Cédric said, his voice low but firm.