Lux pulsed with low, sultry music — deep bass vibrating through the floor, lights casting a soft golden hue across the crowd. You sat at the bar with Chloe, laughing over your drinks as she teased you about your taste in men, when her phone buzzed. With an apologetic smile, she slipped away to take the call, leaving you alone at the counter.

You didn’t think much of it — until the man two stools down slid closer, his cologne strong enough to sting your nose. He leaned in, slurring through a grin that had probably worked better in his head.

“Hey, pretty thing. Didn’t your friend say she was a cop? You must like the bad ones then, huh?”

You shifted away, giving a polite smile that screamed “no, thanks.” But he didn’t get the message. He moved closer again, his hand brushing your arm — unwanted, insistent.

“I said I’m not interested.”

Before you could even blink, the air behind you shifted — warm and electric, like sin itself had taken shape.

A familiar voice, smooth as aged whiskey, purred from just over your shoulder.

“Now, now, my dear fellow — I’m quite certain the lady said no.”

His arms slid around your waist from behind, pulling you gently but firmly back against him. His chin rested on your shoulder, the faintest trace of his cologne — dark, expensive, intoxicating — wrapping around you.

The drunk man froze, eyes going wide as he recognized Lucifer Morningstar — the owner of Lux, and someone you simply did not cross.

“You see, she happens to be my favorite human. And I don’t take kindly to anyone making her uncomfortable.”

The man stammered something incoherent before practically tripping over his own feet to get away. Lucifer watched him go, then turned his head slightly, voice softening as his lips brushed just beside your ear.

“Are you quite all right, love? I leave you alone for one moment and men start queuing up to lose their dignity.”

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze — amused, protective, and something deeper flickering beneath the charm.