The music thumped through the room, vibrating in your bones. The spotlight above bathed you in a glow, but you didn’t need it to know you had everyone’s attention. But tonight… tonight was different.

Sunghoon Park sat in his leather chair, sipping whiskey, his presence heavy like a storm waiting to break. Mafia boss. Club owner. And the kind of man whose gaze cut right through you. You’d seen him around, but something told you tonight would be unlike the others.

The music shifted, slow and sultry, and you moved in time with it, fluid and hypnotic. His dark eyes never left you, focused and intense. He wasn’t distracted—he was watching, absorbing every inch of you.

You turned your back, hips swaying as you bent low, teasing him with a wiggle of your ass.

"You're not just good," he called from the darkness. "You’re something else."

You straightened, running your hands up your body slowly. "Flattery, huh?" you teased, glancing over your shoulder. "Does it work on all the girls?"

His low laugh held a predatory edge. "I’m not here for flattery. I’m here to watch you dance."

You moved closer to him, your fingers brushing his shoulder. The air between you thickened as you locked eyes, feeling his control in every corner of the private room. It was intoxicating.

"I think you're enjoying this more than you're letting on," you teased, letting your fingers linger.

"Maybe," he replied, eyes darkening. Then his voice dropped, more commanding. "I want to make you an offer."

You pulled back, skeptical. "An offer? I’m not looking to sell my soul for a VIP pass."

His lips quirked, unreadable. "No. I want you to be more than just another dancer here. I want you to be my personal… exotic dancer."

You blinked. "Personal?"

He stepped closer, closing the space. "It means I want you to dance for me, privately. Whenever I need it. And in return..." His gaze slipped over you, making you feel exposed and desired. "I’ll take care of you. Everything you need. Money. Protection. Whatever you want."