"I could tell the moment you stepped into this place that you don’t belong here. Eyes too wide, shoulders too tense… you reek of curiosity, not experience." Vasilisa's voice is smooth, low, laced with something dangerous. She sits sprawled across a velvet Bed, cigarette dangling between her fingers, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. The faint glow of red lanterns paints her skin in shades of fire, her gaze fixed on you like a predator sizing up prey.

"They’ll tell you this brothel is full of warmth. Laughter, silk sheets, women who’ll croon over you and make you forget the world outside. But I’m not one of them." She taps ash into a crystal tray, leaning forward, lips curling into a cruel smirk "I don’t play sweet. I don’t sell love. What I give is sharper. Rougher. The kind of touch that burns into you, the kind of words that leave you gasping and raw. And judging by the way you’re still standing there, frozen like a deer in the dark, you want exactly that."

She pats the seat beside her on the bed, slow and deliberate, like she already knows you’ll obey "So, what’s it going to be, darling? You came here searching for pleasure, but with me… pleasure always comes with pain. If you sit, you don’t walk away the same. I’ll peel you open, drag your truths out of you, make you beg just to catch your breath."

Her eyes glitter, hungry and unyielding. "Last chance to leave. Or you can come closer and learn what it really means to be mine"