Chapter 1 Feel don't talk

The lights were dim, the bass pounded, and Mandy was already two songs deep into a routine she didn't even like.

She hated Thursdays, the creeps were usually bolder, the tips were weaker, and her patience was always hanging by a thread.

Then he walked in.

Dark suit, no tie, cold eyes, the kind of man who didn't look at women, he looked through them, like he was calculating something deeper, deadlier.

Mandy clocked him the second he entered. He didn't belong here, this wasn't just money, this was power, and when he took a seat in the private lounge, motioning for the manager, she knew exactly where this was going.

Ten minutes later, she was standing in front of him backstage, a wad of cash already in her hand, five thousand for one hour, no touching unless she said so.

"What's the catch?" she asked, tugging her robe tighter.

He didn't answer, just lit a cigarette and nodded toward the private suite.

That was catch enough.

Inside, the room smelled of tobacco and expensive danger. He was already seated legs spread, jacket off, wristwatch gleaming like it had never seen daylight.

Mandy started slow, she always did, a tease, not a sprint.

But something about him made her throat dry, made her skin flush.

He didn't leer, didn't smirk, just watched intense and unblinking.

"You don't talk much," she said, sliding onto his lap like it was routine, because it was, Just not with him.

"I'm here for silence," he murmured. "And you."

Her breath hitched. His voice was deep, commanding, the kind of tone that could end wars, or start one.

She tilted her head. "And what exactly do you want from me?"

He looked up at her then, eyes smoldering.

"Everything."

He yanked the robe open without asking.

Mandy flinched, but didn't stop him. Silk hit the floor.

He looked up, voice low. "You still good?"

She nodded, barely breathing. "Yeah."

"Say it."

"I want this."

That was all he needed.

He pulled her onto his lap, hands already sliding up her thighs. Her breath caught when his fingers found heat, teasing through the lace.

"You're soaked," he murmured. "I barely touched you."

"Shut up," she hissed, grinding against his palm.

He chuckled, dark and low. "Make me."

She grabbed a fistful of his hair and kissed him, hard. He tasted like smoke and sin, and when he bit her bottom lip, she moaned into his mouth.

He stood without warning, carrying her to the bed like she weighed nothing, tossed her down and followed.

"You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart," he said, slipping off his belt.

"I don't scare easy."

"We'll see."

He was inside her in one rough thrust. Mandy cried out, fingernails digging into his back. He wasn't slow, didn't speak, just took her, deep, fast, like he was chasing something inside himself.

"Look at me," he growled.

She did. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched.

"You feel that?" He drove harder. "That's what happens when you walk into my world."

Mandy gasped, legs locking around him. "I don't even know your name."

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

"You don't need it."

And then he broke her open.

Mandy lay on the bed, breath still ragged, sheets twisted around her legs. Her skin hummed, every inch of her felt used, owned... and she wasn't even mad about it.

He sat at the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette, shirtless now, silent, his profile was sharp, carved from shadow.

"You smoke after sex?" she asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

He exhaled, eyes still forward. "Only when it's good."

She smirked. "You're welcome, then."

No answer, just a long drag, atwitch in his jaw.

"Hey." She reached out, touched his back. "You okay?"

He turned slightly, met her eyes. Cold steel flickered behind the heat. "Fine."

"You're acting like we didn't just blow each other's minds five minutes ago."

He didn't smile. "I don't do pillow talk."

That stung.

She pulled the sheet around her, suddenly more aware of how naked she was, and how dressed he was getting.

"You some kind of secret agent or something?" she joked, trying to shake off the weird vibe. "You were fun ten minutes ago."

He looked over his shoulder, just long enough to say, "You ask too many questions."

Mandy's smile faded. "And you answer like a man who's hiding something."

His eyes flicked back to hers. "Maybe I am."

She stared at him.

Then he crushed the cigarette in a crystal ashtray and stood. Started buttoning his shirt like the night hadn't just happened.

"What's your name, anyway?" she asked.

He paused. "Dante."

No last name, no details.

Just a name that sounded like fire.

She watched him slip on a watch that probably cost more than her rent. The weight of what she didn't know about him hit like ice water.

"Are you gonna kick me out or pretend this never happened?" she asked, voice quieter now.

He looked at her long and hard.

Then he came over, bent down, and kissed her forehead, not her lips, her forehead.

"Sleep, Mandy."

And with that, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Dante walked down the back hall of the club, ignoring the girl who nodded at him. He moved fast, no hesitation. The music faded as he reached the basement stairs.

Two of his men stood guard at the door.

"He's inside," one said.

Dante opened it.

The room stank of sweat and fear. A man sat tied to a chair, blood smeared across his cheek. He looked up, eyes wide.

"No," he whispered. "Please-"

Dante didn't speak, he rolled up his sleeves, walked in.

"You lied to me," he said calmly, cracking his knuckles. "About the shipment. About the warehouse."

The man trembled. "I-I swear, I didn't-"

Dante grabbed a pair of pliers from the table. "You had one job. Don't steal from me."

"I didn't!" the man shouted. "I don't know anything, I swear!"

Dante crouched down, face level. "That's the thing," he said, voice low. "I don't believe you."

He ripped the man's ring finger clean out of it's socket.

Screaming echoed through the basement.

Dante stood, tossed the bloodied pliers on the table. "Talk, or next it's your tongue."

The man sobbed, broken now. "Okay! Okay! Kade took the shipment, he paid me to reroute it to the docks!"

Dante's jaw tightened. "That's all I needed."

He looked to his men.

"Finish him."

Then he walked out without looking back.