The next night, just as Gemma was about to head out for her shift at Velvet Desire, her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

She hesitated for a second before answering.

"Step outside," a deep voice said.

Her stomach clenched. She knew who it was.

Pushing aside the nervousness she was now feeling, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of her apartment building.

And froze.

A sleek expensive looking black car was parked right in front, The driver, dressed in a sharp black suit, stepped out and opened the door for her.

For a moment, she just stared.

Men paid for her attention all the time. Lavished her with cash, drinks, empty promises. But no one had ever sent a damn chauffeur for her.

A slow smirk curled her lips. He's bold.

She slid into the backseat, the scent of leather and expensive cologne wrapping around her. The car pulled away smoothly.

As they drove, she watched the city lights blur past, her thoughts racing. Who the hell is this guy?

The way he carried himself. The money. The power.

She had danced for rich men before, but this felt different.

When the car finally slowed to a stop, she gasped.

A massive mansion stood before her, its modern glass exterior glowing under the moonlight. To her left was the most beautiful fountain she'd ever seen, and to her right was the parking lot with the most expensive cars lined up neatly like trophies.

Her fingers tightened around her purse.

What did I just walk into?

The driver got out and opened her door, but before she could step out of the car, three men in suits appeared.

Gemma felt the shift in the air immediately.

These weren't security guards.

These were men who didn't blink twice before pulling a trigger.

Her heart pounded, but she forced her face to stay neutral as one of them gestured for her to follow.

They led her through the grand entrance, past towering ceilings, sleek furniture, and artwork that looked more expensive than her entire existence.

Gemma's stomach twisted.

What the fuck does he do?

Finally, the men stopped in front of a massive set of double doors. One of them knocked twice before pushing it open.

She stepped inside.

And there he was.

He was seated on a leather couch, legs spread in that lazy, confident way men sat when they knew they owned the room. A glass of dark liquor rested in his hand, his fingers tapping against the rim.

But Gemma wasn't paying attention to the drink.

She was looking at him.

The way the soft glow of the fireplace illuminated his sharp jawline, the way his tailored shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. He wasn't just attractive, he was dangerously lethal.

He glanced up, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "Glad you came."

Gemma tilted her head, crossing her arms. "I figured turning down a personal driver would be rude."

Lucien chuckled, setting his drink down. "Smart girl."

She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the marble floors. "You still haven't told me your name."

His dark eyes held hers. "Lucien."

Something about the way he said it made her shiver.

She licked her lips. "Lucien what?"

A pause. Then—

"Lucien Castillo."

The room tilted.

Gemma inhaled sharply and took a step back, 

She had heard that name before. Everyone had.

Lucien Castillo wasn't just some rich businessman.

He was the Lucien Castillo. The name whispered in dark alleyways and exclusive penthouses. The name tied to backdoor deals, disappearances, and bloodstained money.

The Mafia boss.

The man who practically owned half the damn city.

Gemma's breath came short. Her entire body buzzed with adrenaline, her instincts screaming at her to turn around and run.

Lucien leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You look surprised."

She let out a sharp breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "Should I not be?"

His smirk deepened. "I thought a girl like you would've figured it out sooner."

Gemma swallowed. "A girl like me?"

"You dance for men every night. You watch them, study them." He tilted his head. "Tell me, Gemma, what do you see when you look at me?"

She clenched her fists, trying to steady her heartbeat.

She saw power. She saw danger.

But most of all—

She saw temptation.

And that terrified her the most.

Babygirl, are you scared?" Lucien's voice was low, teasing, like he already knew the answer. 

Gemma swallowed, She wanted to say no, wanted to act nonchalant, but the heat in his gaze made it difficult for her to breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you... I promise." He reached for her, calmly, like a man who never had to rush. "I don't hurt people who don't deserve it. And sweetheart, believe me when I say you don't."

Her throat went dry.

"The only place I'll be punishing you..." He took a step closer, invading her space, "...will in my room. On my sheets."

A shiver ran down her spine, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed at her to be careful.

Lucien extended his hand. Waiting. Daring.

She hesitated for a moment, she could walk away, pretend this night never happened, go back to her life, her stage, her tip.

But her body betrayed her.

Slowly she placed her hand in his.

She wasn't sure if she'd just made a deal with the devil.

Or if she'd been his all along.