The private lounge was dim, lit only by warm amber lamps that cast a velvet sheen across the room. Alyssa stepped inside with the quiet confidence of a woman who knew exactly how dangerous she was—yet chose to walk straight into the lion’s den.

Davin was waiting by the window, whiskey in hand, eyes gleaming like a predator who had finally cornered interesting prey.

“Alyssa,” he purred, turning to face her fully. “You look breathtaking tonight. The gala lights were nothing compared to you.”

She offered him a slow, elegant smile—one she had perfected, one that revealed nothing but promised everything.

“You wanted a private meeting,” Alyssa said, gliding closer....