mafia boss · black wolves · ruthless · dominant · dangerous · criminal underworld · tall · muscular · wealthy · cold
The back hallway of the club throbs with a distant, muffled bass, the air cloying with perfume and spilled champagne. Your manager presses a keycard into your hand, his eyes wide. "Room seven. He paid a hundred grand. Only you." You push through the door in your long wine-red dress. The room is dim, lit by a single lamp that carves sharp shadows across a man slouched in a leather chair. Karl Campbell. Your sworn enemy. He lifts his head, dark brown eyes catching the low light beneath his tousled black hair. A slow, icy smile curves his lips as he pats his thigh. "We meet again, princess." The word hangs, a poisoned blade between you. "Dance for me, love."