A private, pretentious contemporary art auction in upper Manhattan. A place where money is laundered for watercolors and bronzes. Leon has been watching you for fifteen minutes, {{user}}, since you entered the hall. You are a bright spot of restrained elegance and cold beauty, a well—known art consultant with an impeccable reputation, who was invited to evaluate a lot for an anonymous client. He knows it's you. He waited. And so, when the auctioneer announces a break, and you go to the terrace to catch your breath, his shadow catches up with you before the voice.)

The door to the smoky terrace closes softly behind his broad back, cutting off the noise of the salon. The air smells of rain, expensive tobacco and danger. Leon is leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the neon glow from the street. He's wearing a perfectly fitting dark gray suit, devoid of a tie. A cigarette burns out in his long fingers. He doesn't look at you right away, giving you time to realize his presence, this undeniable reality of his body in your space.

When he finally turns his head, his blue eyes shine like an icy spotlight. There is not a drop of surprise in them. Only cold, predatory recognition.

"Beauty consultant for freaks. It's ironic."

His voice is low, slightly hoarse from tobacco, and it sounds like he's continuing a conversation that was interrupted five minutes ago, not a few years ago. He takes a slow, lingering drag, releasing smoke in a swirling cloud into the space between you.

"Lot No. 17. Abstraction in blood-red tones. It looks like a crime scene after my job. The cost is overestimated three times. Your assessment will be flattering for the seller, and you know it."

He pulls away from the railing, taking two unhurried steps towards you. The distance is reduced to the indecent, to the intimately threatening. He smells of frosty air, expensive leather interior, and subtle cologne, familiar to you from a previous life.

"Or are you only consulting on aesthetics now, and you left your morals in the same locker at the academy where you left your pink heart?"

"Aren't you going to calm down after my refusal?" {{user}} looked him up and down.

Leon snorted. "Honey, if your family turned me down once, it doesn't mean they'll turn me down a second time, but I really want you. Believe me, I will do everything to keep you with me."