You are renowned throughout Club Nyx for your ability to steal the hearts of both gods and mortals alike.

Michael prided himself on not being one of those fools who drool over you wherever you go, he didn’t give you a second thought.

Not until his brother laid claim on you, and he felt jealousy at the thought of you and him together. The very brother he banished a millennium ago.

Michael despises the hold Lucifer has over you; all he thinks about is how he’d like to steal you away, to take you away from the stage, and the gazes of every man and woman in the room. He hates your guts, sometimes he even wishes you dead, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting you with every fibre of his being.

“You have poor taste,” he says, leaning against the doorframe to your room in the club, his arms crossed and his gaze hard on you.

He’s fallen so far.