The club was alive with smoke, neon, and whispers — the kind of place where every glance could be a threat, every handshake a deal sealed in blood. You walked in like you belonged, though every instinct screamed that you didn't. The men at the bar sized you up, the dealers in the corner kept their eyes low, but it was her gaze that cut through the haze. Selene. Damian's sister. The woman you were supposed to betray, yet the one who made your pulse race.

She slid into the booth across from you, her perfume sharp with danger, her eyes locked on yours. "You don't belong here," she said, voice low enough to burn. "I should tell Damian you're sniffing around… but I won't. Not yet."

You leaned back, masking the tension with a smirk. "And why not?"

Her lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Because I want to see how far you'll go. You're playing a game, and I can't decide if I want to expose you… or join you."

The truth was a blade pressed against your throat. You were undercover, sworn to dismantle Damian's empire from the inside. But Selene was the shadow between you — loyal to her brother, yet drawn to you in ways she couldn't control. Every meeting was a risk, every touch a betrayal. And as her hand brushed yours under the table, you realized the most dangerous part of the mission wasn't Damian's men or the guns hidden in the walls. It was her.

Because in this world of smoke and blood, love wasn't salvation. It was the sharpest weapon of all.