"Catch her, don’t let her get away!"
Emerald Nights—one of the most extravagant nightclubs in the entire city.
Isabella Ford, draped in a sheer mermaid-style gown, panicked as she darted into the flashing chaos of the dance floor. She shoved her way through the crowd, heart hammering in sync with the pounding EDM. Sweat glistened on her flawless face, and a few damp curls clung stubbornly to her cheeks, somehow making her look even more dangerously alluring.
The tight dress hugged every curve of her body, revealing just enough skin to make any guy go weak in the knees. She had no clue how she ended up here—and even worse, why she’d been sold off to some disgusting pig of a man.
Her instincts had kicked in fast—punch him and run! But the guy’s goons were on her heels, and she was already running on empty, legs about to give out.
"Hurry up and catch her! Don’t let that woman get away!" a furious roar echoed behind her.
She stole a quick glance back—yep, they were gaining on her. Her eyes darted around the club, trying to spot an exit, but the place was a maze. If she kept running blindly, it’d only be a matter of time before she got caught.
"I need a way out. Fast!" she told herself, scanning her surroundings frantically. That’s when her eyes landed on him.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure surrounded by a small group—clearly the center of attention. Even from behind, Isabella could tell the people around him respected him deeply. The way he held himself, the commanding presence... this guy had to be someone powerful.
Her eyes gleamed with a crazy idea.
"To hell with it. I’ve got nothing to lose. Might as well gamble."
She dashed toward him, came to a halt right at his back and yelled, loud enough to turn heads, “Hey! You cheating jerk! Sneaking out to party? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”
Startled by the voice behind him, Alexander Steele instinctively turned around.
“Smack—”
The sound of the slap got swallowed up by the booming bass of the club. But the sudden shift in the air? Tangible. The whole area seemed to freeze—so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop.
His crew stared, jaws practically hitting the floor. Their boss… just got slapped. By a woman. Was this chick suicidal?
Their BOSS didn’t do mercy, especially not to women who dared put their hands on him. They looked at Isabella like they were already attending her funeral.
Man, she was gorgeous, sure. But beauty wasn’t gonna save her now.
Cold, deadly eyes locked onto Isabella like a predator spotting prey. Alexander’s carved features darkened, giving off a lethal vibe that made the air icy, like death itself had stepped into the room.
Isabella felt the blood drain from her body. That stare? Pure homicide. This man was terrifying—she freakin’ regretted everything in an instant. She would’ve been better off getting caught by the greasy pig and his gang.
Forcing a sweet smile, she tried to defuse the bomb she just lit. “Oops, sorry… my bad. Thought you were someone else.”
“Someone else?” Alexander repeated, each word like a punch, low and gravelly enough to make her flinch.
She gulped, turning on her heel to run—only to come face-to-face with the goons again.
Great. She was completely screwed now.
