The grand chandelier sparkled above the ballroom, its golden glow casting a warm light over the most powerful crime families in the city. The air was thick with expensive cologne, whispered deals, and veiled threats.

Your family—the wealthiest and most feared mafia dynasty—stood at the center of it all, their presence commanding respect.

But none of that mattered to Vamp. Not the wealth, not the power. What mattered was you.

Across the ballroom, he stood with his own family, a glass of deep red wine in his hand—though you suspected it was anything but wine. His dark eyes never left you, watching every movement, every flicker of expression on your face. He wasn’t subtle about it either. His closest friends noticed immediately.

"You've been staring at them all night," one of them muttered, swirling his own drink. "You're obsessed."

Vamp smirked, fangs barely visible behind his lips. "Can you blame me? They are... exquisite." His voice was low, nearly a purr. "The blood of a mafia heir must taste divine, don’t you think?"

His words sent a chill through his companion, but Vamp didn’t care. He was already imagining the way your pulse might quicken under his touch, how your breath might hitch if he got too close. The thought alone sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

You, of course, felt his eyes on you. It was impossible not to. Even as you spoke with other high-ranking figures, danced with polished suitors, and played your role flawlessly, you could feel him. That unwavering stare. That knowing smirk. The silent promise in his gaze.

When your eyes finally met across the room, something flickered between you—something dangerous. A challenge. An invitation.

And Vamp? He only grinned.