The bass hums beneath the floor, a steady pulse under the soft buzz of voices and clinking sses. The air is thick with the scent of whiskey and temptation. My men blend into the shadows, scanning for threats, while I let my eyes wander over the room.


    Some dance. Some drink. Some negotiate deals that they may regret in the morning.


    And that’s when I see her: sitting alone at the bar, legs crossed, a ck minidress hugging her curves like it was sewn on to her skin. Thigh-high boots draw my gaze to toned, tanned legs. And that hair—long, dark, silky—would find a perfect home around my wrist.


    She radiates confidence with that perfect posture. Doesn’t even bother scanning the room like she wants to know who’s watching her, because she knows they all are. Confidence like that cannot be learned. She was born with it.


    A queen surveying her kingdom, and I am in the mood to share.


    My feet are moving before I realize it. Before I even decide if they should. Something about her pulls me in, gnaws at my instincts. Like I should already know her. Like it’s a sin that I don’t.


    What a tempting little creature you are.


    As I close the distance, the angles of her face sharpen under the low light: darkshes framing unreadable eyes, full lips painted deep burgundy as she wraps them around the straw of her drink.


    It’s easy to see she’s the kind of woman who doesn’t need anyone. The kind who makes men beg.


    But I don’t beg. I take.


    I move nearer, every step slow and calcted. She doesn’t look my way as she tilts her ss, the red liquid swirling in her hand.


    When her dark eyes finally meet mine, there’s no hesitation. No shyness. Only quiet amusement, like she’s used to men falling all over themselves for her. And I have no doubt that is the case.


    I slide onto the stool beside her, close enough to catch the faint scent of something warm and feminine. Vani and spice, perhaps.


    “You always drink alone, or is this my lucky night?”


    She smirks,shes lowering as she takes a slow sip through the thin ck straw. “I’m waiting for a friend, actually.”


    “Lucky friend.”


    Or maybe dead friend. It really depends on the level of friendship she’s referring to.


    Her smirk deepens. “Really? Is that your best line?”


    I chuckle, signaling the bartender. “If I was really trying to pick you up, malyshka, you’d know.”


    She studies me, tipping her head slightly. “Would I, now?”


    I lean in, forearm resting on the bar, mouth growing dangerously close to hers, and she doesn’t even flinch.


    “I don’t y games I can’t win,” I tell her as my palm lowers to the top of her bare thigh, warm and velvety.


    It’s downright sinful how good she feels.


    She exhales a softugh, the kind that doesn’t give anything away.


    A woman like this? She enjoys the chase, but she doesn’t need it. Which only makes me more interested.


    Her hand grazes my forearm, nails trailing over the sleeve of my dress shirt. “Neither do I.”


    She has no idea what she’s just stepped into. No idea how risky it is to make a man like me want to learn everything there is to know about her.


    The bartender sets my drink in front of me, and I lift it, watching her over the rim.


    “What’s your name?” I ask her.


    She hesitates, just for a breath. “Tessa. Tessa Monroe.”


    It suits her. Smooth, refined.


    I take her hand before she can pull away, pressing a slow kiss to the top of it. “Konstantin.”


    Her lips part slightly, and she doesn’t look away. “Pleasure.”


    “Oh, believe me, the pleasure is all mine, dorogaya.”


    Her gaze flickers with something unreadable. Amusement? Intrigue? Temptation? I can’t yet tell. She’s like a puzzle I need to crack.


    I don’t let go of her hand right away, running my thumb over her knuckles. Her skin is warm, soft. A contrast to everything I am.


    When I finally release her, she doesn’t move. Just watches me, a mischievous gaze dragging over my body like she’s assessing every inch. Like she enjoys what she sees.


    A dangerous thing.


    Her mouth angles up when she catches my eye.


    “Oh, do not let me interrupt you. Please, keep staring. I find myself enjoying it.”


    Sheughs. “I think I’m done now.”


    “And was it to your satisfaction, Ms. Monroe?”


    She brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and I very much would like to do that myself. “I guess you’ll never know.”


    There’s a teasing edge to her tone, and I let out a deep, dark chuckle.


    “I very much doubt that.” With another slow swig of my drink, I’m unable to stop my gaze from feasting on this beautiful woman. “If you need anything else, it’s on me.”


    She arches a perfectly manicured brow. “Why?”


    Because I want to keep you here. Because you’re the most interesting thing in this room.


    But I just shrug instead. “Consider it a wee gift, since I’m pretty sure you’ve never been to this bar before and I happen to own it.”


    Her fingers glide along the condensation, marking her ss. “I don’t ept gifts from strangers.”


    I won’t be a stranger for long.


    Gripping the edge of her stool, I pull her in, her knee brushing mine. “Then get to know me.”


    Her lips twitch. “Tempting.”


    I chuckle, finishing off my drink, then push off the bar. Adjusting my cuffs, I lean in close enough that my breath warms her cheek, my lips ghosting over her ear.


    “Think about it. Enjoy your night, dorogaya. I’ll see youter.”


    She inhales sharply when my mouth lingers, herposure slipping for the first time, and something in my chest tightens with satisfaction.


    As I step back, every part of me wants to stay, which is very new for me. I don’t know what it is about this Tessa that makes me want to peel back everyyer and taste what she doesn’t let anyone else have.


    Instead, though, I walk away without looking back.


    Except I don’t have to.


    I feel her watching me, just like I knew she would.<hr>


    TESSA


    He starts to disappear toward the back, and the urge to grab the nearest knife and stab it straight through his gorgeous eye is almost unbearable.


    He may not know my name, but I know his. And if I y my cards right, it’s going to stay that way.


    The fact that I find him remotely attractive makes me sick. How the hell can I stand the thought of him anywhere near me after what he did?


    But I yed it cool. I don’t think he had any clue how I truly felt about him.


    And if I want things to work out, he can never find out.


    “Okay, I’m back!” Mira’s bright voice startles me from behind, pulling me back into the moment. Shees around to my side, her hazel eyes full of warmth andplete obliviousness to the war waging inside me. “Sorry. I had some stuff to discuss with the manager about my shift tomorrow, and it took longer than I thought.”


    Mira not only works for Konstantin at this bar, but also at his club, the one people don’t know about unless he wants them to know. I’d heard rumors, but it wasn’t until I met Mira that I actually learned the truth.


    She slides onto the stool Konstantin just vacated, her presence recing his, but the scent of his expensive cologne still lingers in the air, wrapping around me like a ghostly touch.


    I force my muscles to rx, shaking off the residual tension curling in my gut. There’s no way in hell I can afford to let him get under my skin. Not when I’ve spent thest month nning for this.


    “No worries,” I say smoothly, offering her a bright smile.


    The guilt tugs at my chest, but I shove it down.


    Mira thinks we’re friends. She has no idea she’s nothing more than a pawn in my game. A means to an end.


    She was easy to follow and get close to. Young, friendly, trusting. A recipe for disaster. She doesn’t have much family except for a single mother who works hard to put a roof over her head.


    At least some mothers know how to love their kids.


    When I “identally” spilled coffee on her at that café she frequents, she had no idea it was deliberate. She never questioned why I was so eager to rece it. To sit with her and chat. I made sure she saw what she needed to see: someone struggling, desperate for a job. Someone she could help.


    And she did. She handed me exactly what I needed: a way in. Now it’s up to me.


    “So, do you really think he’ll be okay with me applying for a job at the club?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.


    No isn’t an option. Not for me. I have to get this job.


    “Oh, yeah!” She easily gs down the bartender and orders a drink. “I mentioned I had a friend looking to make a lot of money, and he said it was fine.” She leans on the bar with a dreamy sigh. “Honestly, he’s a great boss.”


    I nearly choke. “You’re not afraid of him?”


    Mira tilts her head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Not at all. All he demands is trust and respect, and that’s easy.”


    “Yeah, for some people,” I mutter.


    “What?”


    “Nothing.” I sh another easy grin. “I’m excited, though. I never even knew a ce like that existed.”


    “I know, right? It’s crazy how he moves the club’s location all the time and no one knows until they get the text that disappears once you see it.”


    “And is that how he mostly recruits people? Through his other businesses, like this ce?”


    Mira shrugs. “I don’t know everyone who works at the club, but yeah, some of theme from the bars and lounges he owns.”


    I nod, taking another sip of my drink, even though my stomach is in a knot—not from fear, but from desperation. “I hope he likes me.”


    I hope he trusts me.


    She scoffs. “Have you seen yourself? Pretty sure that won’t be a problem. But…” She hesitates, her timbre growing lower. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”


    Her words send an icy current through my chest, spreading like frost.


    I force myself to hold her gaze. “I think so.”


    But the truth is I have no choice. This is the only way.


    Mira studies me for a second, then pulls her phone from her back pocket, tapping away. Her lips tug into a smile as she looks up.


    “He’s waiting for us.”


    My fingers tighten around my ss as I set it down carefully, an eerie stillness gripping me, apprehension threading through every muscle. But I push it away.


    This is it.


    I have no other choice. I can’t fuck this up. I have to do this. For revenge.


    Konstantin will pay for what he’s done.


    ncing at her, I tip my mouth up. “Let’s go.”