Elena Vasquez knew she had made a mistake the moment she stepped into Inferno.
The club pulsed with energy low lights, intoxicating music, and an air of danger that clung to the walls like smoke. It wasn't the kind of place she usually went to. It was too expensive, too exclusive, and filled with men who looked like they could buy and sell lives with a phone call.
"Relax," Sofia said, squeezing Elena's arm. "It's just a club."
But Elena knew better. Inferno wasn't just a club. It was a hunting ground.
She inhaled deeply, ignoring the unease creeping up her spine. It was one night. One drink. Then she'd leave.
She followed Sofia to the bar, leaning against the cool marble as her friend chatted up the bartender. Elena's fingers trailed along the rim of her glass absently, her gaze sweeping across the room.
That was when she felt it.
A slow prickle of awareness, like heat sliding over her skin.
Someone was watching her.
Her heart kicked against her ribs as her eyes flickered toward the VIP section. The area was dimly lit, but she caught the unmistakable glint of a glass being lifted, the slow, unhurried movement of a man who knew he had all the time in the world.
And then she saw him.
Dark hair. A strong jawline. An expensive suit that looked like it had been tailored for a man who never accepted anything less than perfection. He was seated in a leather booth, one arm draped lazily over the back, his presence commanding despite the distance between them.
He wasn't just looking at her he was studying her.
Elena's throat went dry.
A normal man would have looked away when caught staring. Not him. He held her gaze, his expression unreadable, as if he was deciding something.
Something about the way he looked at her sent a shiver through her spine part warning, part… something else.
A test.
Elena lifted her chin and turned away first. She had no idea she had just sealed her fate.
Elena forced herself to focus on Sofia, who was still flirting with the bartender, completely unaware of the shift in the air. Her fingers tightened around her drink as she tried to shake the feeling crawling up her spine.
She wasn't new to being watched. She'd been catcalled before, had men try their luck in bars. But this was different.
This wasn't some drunk frat guy trying to score a number.
Whoever he was, his attention didn't feel like a casual interest. It felt like a decision.
"Elena?" Sofia nudged her. "Hello? Earth to Elena."
She blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"
"I said this guy just offered us free drinks," Sofia beamed, motioning toward the bartender, who winked at them. "Told you this place was worth it."
Elena nodded absently, but her mind was elsewhere.
She dared another glance toward the VIP section only to find the man was no longer in his seat.
A strange sense of unease twisted in her stomach.
Where did he go?
Her fingers curled tighter around her glass. Relax, she told herself. He was probably some wealthy businessman or one of the many crime adjacent figures lurking in the city. Either way, she wasn't interesting enough to hold his attention for long.
Still, her pulse refused to settle.
"You good?" Sofia asked, sipping her drink.
Elena forced a nod. "Yeah. Just just a long day."
Sofia rolled her eyes. "Which is why you need to unwind. We're dancing."
"I don't know if—"
"Nope. No backing out," Sofia interrupted, grabbing Elena's hand and dragging her toward the dance floor.
The music wrapped around them, a hypnotic mix of bass and heat. Bodies moved in sync, strangers pressing against one another, lost in the rhythm.
Elena let herself sink into the music, trying to shake the tension clinging to her skin. She wasn't here to think. She was here to let go just for a little while.
But the feeling of being watched never left.
She turned her head slightly, heart lurching when she caught sight of him again.
He was no longer seated in the VIP lounge. Now, he stood at the edge of the dance floor, half-shrouded in shadow, watching her with a predator's patience.
Elena's breath caught.
He wasn't dancing. He wasn't drinking. He was simply there, his presence a sharp contrast to the chaos around him.
The worst part?
He wasn't even trying to hide it.
A slow, deliberate game.
Elena tore her gaze away, her heart hammering in her chest.
Who was he? And why was he looking at her like that like he'd already decided something she wasn't aware of?
She exhaled sharply and spun to face Sofia. "I need some air."
Her friend barely acknowledged her, too caught up in the moment, so Elena slipped away, weaving through the crowd toward the side exit.
The alley behind Inferno was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the pulsing energy inside. She pressed her back against the brick wall, inhaling deeply.
She had to get a grip.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was overreacting.
A soft scuff of leather against pavement shattered that thought.
Elena's breath hitched.
She wasn't alone.
Elena's pulse spiked.
The alley was empty or it had been. Now, the weight of another presence pressed against the silence, turning the cool night air electric with unease.
She wasn't the type to spook easily, but something told her this wasn't just a random clubgoer stepping out for a smoke.
Slowly, she turned her head.
A man leaned casually against the wall a few feet away, half-hidden in the shadows. He wasn't the one from inside his frame was bulkier, his stance more impatient. His eyes raked over her in a way that made her stomach twist.
"Didn't expect a pretty thing like you out here alone," he mused, pushing off the wall. His voice was laced with something greasy, something that made her instincts scream.
Elena straightened, masking her nerves. "I was just heading back inside."
She turned to go.
"Not so fast."
A hand snatched at her wrist. Elena jerked away, her heart hammering.
"I don't think so," she snapped, stepping back. "Get lost."
The man smirked, taking another step forward. "Come on, sweetheart, don't be like that."
Every cell in her body braced to fight or flee.
And then a new presence.
Colder. Darker.
It wrapped around her before she even saw him.
A low, measured voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"She told you to get lost."
Elena turned and found him, the man from inside.
Dante Moretti.
Up close, he was even more dangerous. Not just in the way he carried himself effortlessly commanding but in the sheer control in his expression. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even bothered. He was bored. As if he had already decided how this would end.
Elena's breath stalled.
The other man stiffened. "Hey, man, I didn't mean anything by it"
"Then leave." A single, lazy word.
The man hesitated. Dante tilted his head, a small, amused smirk playing at his lips.
The silent message was clear.
Run. And he did.
The moment the man disappeared into the night, Elena exhaled, pulse still erratic. She expected Dante to turn and leave too.
He didn't.
Instead, he regarded her for a long moment, those unreadable dark eyes drinking her in.
"Walking out here alone was reckless," he said finally.
Elena bristled. "I can handle myself."
A hint of amusement flickered in his gaze. "Clearly."
She crossed her arms. "I didn't need your help."
"Maybe not." He stepped closer, and just like inside, the air between them shifted. Thickened. "But I wanted to give it."
Elena swallowed hard. He was too close now, his presence too consuming.
"You should go back inside," he said, low and smooth. "Before someone else thinks they can touch what doesn't belong to them."
Her breath caught.
What doesn't belong to them?
It wasn't a warning but a claim.
And deep down, she knew this wasn't the last time their paths would cross.
Not by a long shot.