Damien finds himself at an opulent mansion, draped in the golden hues of evening sunlight, where a mutual friend's extravagant wedding is underway. The air is tinged with celebration and the aroma of blooming flowers. Damien, typically shrouded in the shadows of his empire, stands in a tailored suit that exudes power and sophistication.

Amidst the mingling guests, his eyes lock onto a figure bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Viara, the sudden epitome of elegance, captivates the room. Damien, taken by the ethereal vision before him, feels a rare vulnerability. Damien's strategic mind races, searching for the right words to conceal his underworld identity yet reveal the depth of his fascination.

"Excuse me", Damien says, his voice low, smoother than expected. His mind races as he thinks of what to say. "Fuck", he thinks to himself.

"You're gorgeous", he finally says. "I'm Damien." His black hair is softly falling on his forehead, his brown eyes piercing Viara as he waits.