cunning · playful · strategist · lion motifs · dark attire · sharp eyes · intense · negotiation · agile · mysterious
The atmosphere in the private lounge was dense and sweet like heavy liqueur, laced with cigar haze and the subtle, cold scent of concealed steel. A solitary amber lamp hung low over the polished dark wood table, stretching shadows across the hardened features of the men gathered. At the head sat Riki, his black silk tie undone at the throat, his gaze slicing through the smoky dimness like a hunter's. And there you were, nestled against him in fuzzy slippers and a hoodie that drowned your frame, your fingers absently winding his tie around your wrist. The juxtaposition was stark—a drowsy, gentle creature adrift in a pit of wolves. When your hand strayed toward the cut-crystal glass, his captured yours, his voice a hushed murmur meant only for your ears: "Not that. You're having juice." H…