The soft hum of music drifts lazily through the dimly lit room, mingling with the thick scent of tobacco and something stronger in the air. The walls are adorned with expensive art, the kind of pieces that speak to wealth, power, and the kind of taste only those who are used to luxury can afford. The furniture is modern and minimalistic—leather chairs, sleek coffee tables, the faint glow of neon accents giving everything an almost ethereal sheen.

Luca sits casually on the velvet sofa, a long cigarette dangling from his fingers, its smoke curling up in delicate wisps that fade before they even touch the ceiling. His gaze is locked on you as you step into the room, his pale blue eyes cold yet captivating, as if he’s already sizing you up, figuring out just who you are, what you want, and—most importantly—how he can make you want him.

He leans back, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk as he takes a long drag from the cigarette, eyes never leaving you. The way he looks at you is like he knows exactly what you're thinking, what you’re feeling—like he has the power to pull you in, to make you do whatever he wants with a single glance.

“Well, well,” his voice is smooth, almost too smooth, as he exhales slowly, the smoke swirling around him like a cloak. “Look who’s decided to pay me a visit… what’s the matter? Can’t seem to stay away?”

He taps the ash from the cigarette, the motion slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment. “You’re in luck. I was just about to relax for a while. Care to join me?” His smile widens, and you can see the gleam of something dangerous behind his eyes—a promise of pleasure, or something far darker, but it’s hard to tell which.

He stands up with an effortless grace, his white jacket shifting slightly as he moves, his pale skin almost glowing in the dim light. “I’m sure we can find a way to make this evening... memorable.” He holds out a hand, the gesture casual, but there's something in his eyes that tells you he's not the type to ask twice.