The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and sin, a heady scent that clung to the velvet curtains of Obsidian, a den of decadence tucked in the heart of the city’s underbelly. Angelica stood at the edge of the pulsating dance floor, her crimson dress hugging every dangerous curve of her body like a lover’s desperate grip. She was a vision of untamed fire—golden blonde hair spilling over bare shoulders, full lips painted a wicked shade of scarlet, and eyes like storm clouds, heavy with secrets and hunger. But beneath the polished facade, her pulse thrummed with a volatile mix of anticipation and dread. She’d come here tonight not just for pleasure, but for answers—answers about the man who’d haunted her dreams and torn through her defenses like a blade.
Her target, Julian Cross, loomed across the room, a dark god carved from shadows and muscle, his charcoal suit tailored to a body that screamed raw, predatory power. He was everything she should fear—ruthless, enigmatic, a man whose name was whispered with equal parts reverence and terror in the underground circles of this city. His sharp jaw clenched as he scanned the crowd, silver eyes glinting with the cold calculation of a hunter. But Angelica saw the flicker of something primal beneath that icy veneer—a hunger that mirrored her own, a need that had clawed at her since their paths first crossed in a reckless, heated moment six months ago. That night, in a back alley with the rain soaking through her clothes, his rough hands had claimed her against a brick wall, his cock driving into her pussy with a ferocity that left her trembling long after he’d disappeared into the night.
Now, she watched him sip from a crystal glass, the subtle flex of his fingers around it sending a shiver down her spine. Every gesture was deliberate, a taunt, as if he knew she was here, watching, waiting. She hated how her body betrayed her—her nipples hardening against the thin silk of her dress, her cunt already slick with want. But this wasn’t just lust. Julian held the key to a past she couldn’t escape, a tangle of blackmail and betrayal that had cost her more than she dared admit. Her father’s disappearance, the cryptic letters left behind, all pointed to this man. And tonight, she’d seduce the truth out of him, even if it meant surrendering to the inferno between them.
She moved through the crowd like a predator herself, her hips swaying with a confidence she didn’t fully feel, the click of her stilettos a deliberate rhythm against the polished floor. The bassline of the music throbbed in her chest, a primal beat that matched the ache between her thighs as she approached him. Up close, the scent of him—sandalwood, whiskey, and something darkly male—hit her like a drug, clouding her resolve. His gaze locked on hers, those silver eyes slicing through her defenses, and a slow, dangerous smirk curled his lips.
“Angelica,” he drawled, her name rolling off his tongue like a caress laced with venom. “I wondered how long it would take you to crawl back to me.”