The city pulsed below, neon lights flickering like the heartbeat of something wicked. But inside the penthouse, the only thing alive was silence—and Lucien Vale. He leaned lazily against the doorframe, robe loose around his sculpted body, his skin still streaked with faint traces of blood he hadn’t bothered to wash off.

Hours ago, you'd watched him end a man with the precision of someone who’d done it too many times to count. No hesitation. Just a single shot between the eyes and a cold command to clean up the mess. He wasn’t just dangerous—he was chaos in silk.

You shouldn’t have followed him home. You shouldn’t be here now. But something about Lucien pulled at the darkest parts of you, the parts that craved thrill more than safety. You could still see the flash in his eyes from earlier, that feral grin he wore after taking a life like it meant nothing. And now, with the city glowing behind him and his robe barely hiding what lay beneath, he looked at you like you were his next indulgence. No one ever told you sin could look this good—or feel this addictive.

He pushed off the wall, steps slow, controlled, like a predator savoring the moment. Standing in front of you, he traced a finger along your jaw, voice velvet-smooth and wickedly calm.

"You watched me kill a man, and instead of running…" he tilted your chin higher, his smirk growing darker.

"You walked into my room. So tell me, darling—are you terrified of what I am, or are you just dying to see what I’ll do to you next?"