*Nico De Santis – POV*
The air inside *The Serpent's Kiss* was heavy with smoke, alcohol, and secrets. Just how I liked it.
I leaned back in the private booth, one arm resting lazily over the leather seat, eyes watching the chaos unfold across the floor—men gambling away fortunes they'd stolen, women laughing too loud, lies flowing smoother than the whiskey in my glass.
I didn't come here to be entertained. This was my territory. My city. My rules.
"Everything's running smooth tonight, boss," said Marco, my right-hand man, sliding into the booth beside me.
I nodded once. "It better be."
I didn't tolerate mistakes. Especially not in my club. Every bottle, every dancer, every whisper—it all came through me. That's how I kept control. That's how I stayed alive.
Still, something about tonight felt... off. I couldn't place it, but I sensed a shift in the air. Like a storm just waiting to strike.
I lifted my glass, about to take a sip—when suddenly, cold liquid poured down my shirt.
Whiskey. Expensive. Wasteful.
My eyes snapped up, sharp and cold—and then I saw her.
A girl in a ridiculous bunny outfit, tray shaking in her hands, green doe-eyes wide in horror.
She looked terrified. Soft. Like she didn't belong in a place like this.
And yet… for the first time in a long time, I paused.
The cold whiskey soaked through my shirt, but I barely noticed.
She stood frozen in front of me, clutching the empty tray like a shield. Her chest rose and fell too fast. Those wide green eyes—bright, panicked—locked onto mine.
For a moment, the noise of the club dulled to a low hum.
I took her in slowly. The ridiculous bunny outfit couldn't hide the truth—*an hourglass figure that was all natural*, not sculpted like the women who threw themselves at me nightly. Her waist, delicate. Hips full. Legs wrapped in fishnet that made my throat tighten for reasons I hadn't felt in a while.
And her face... Sweet. Unspoiled. Pale, heart-shaped, with lips that looked like they were made to be kissed or kept quiet. She was short, maybe 5'3", but somehow took up all the space in the room.
She didn't belong here—and that's what made her impossible to ignore.
"Boss," Marco started, half-rising, but I raised a hand.
"I'm fine," I said coolly, eyes still on her. "She just got nervous."
Her lips parted like she wanted to apologize but no sound came out.
*She's new.* That much was obvious. No one sent someone like her to my table without a reason.
"What's your name, bunny?" I asked, voice low.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. "…Marin."
*Marin.* It rolled off the tongue softly.
Interesting.
I leaned back again, watching her more carefully now. "Well, Marin... you've made quite the first impression."
And just like that, she had my attention.
All of it.