She walked into my club like sin wrapped in skin — heartbroken, reckless, and burning for something she didn’t even know how to name.
Pride was thick with heat and bass, bodies pressed together under lights that flashed like fever dreams, and still, she pulled my gaze like gravity. Not because of her beauty, though she had enough of it to swallow men whole.
It was the fire in her eyes. That flicker of pride still clinging to her like the last piece of armor she didn’t want to shed.
Delicious.
She made her way to the bar, clutching her drink like a weapon, her mouth set tight, her throat moving when she swallowed. I watched her ignore the man beside her—sweaty, insistent, leaning in too close.
I didn’t intervene. Not yet.
Because I wanted to see what she’d do.
And then she did someth
