"Don Romano, which song would you like to hear?"

I took a deep breath and reached for the mic on the table.

Tapping the screen in my hand, I tried to keep my voice steady and professional.

"Pop, classical, R&B—I can sing it all."

Growing up in the club with Matthew, I'd picked up a few tricks of the trade.

Luca raised an eyebrow, amused, and leaned in closer.

"Well, would you look at that. The ugly freak's a jack-of-all-trades."

"You're too kind, Don Romano."

I forced a stiff smile, knowing full well my smeared makeup probably made me look like a painter's palette.

Sure enough, Luca's expression soured instantly—my face clearly offended his sensibilities. He leaned back with a grimace.

"Christ, I still prefer pretty girls!"

He rubbed his arm like he was trying to brush off goosebumps, his voice dripping with disgust.

"Don't flash that horror-show smile at me. You're killing my buzz..."

I quickly wiped the smile from my face and lowered my gaze.

"Sorry, Don Romano."

Luckily, he seemed to be in a decent mood and let it slide.

He nodded toward a circular lift chair in the front left corner.

"Go. Pick a dance track. Sit there and sing. And don't you dare look back at me."

The way he said it—it was like giving orders to a halfway-decent pet.

"Yes, sir."

I responded sweetly, rising to my feet like the perfect little performer.

But I could still feel that cold, knife-sharp gaze from the couch behind me—Kai Hunter's.

I didn't dare turn around to check.

I just wanted this to be over.

To get the hell out of here.

With my back to the couches, I walked toward the lone lift chair, took a seat, and tapped the screen to queue up a high-energy dance track.

Once the music video lit up the dark room with its flashing visuals, the atmosphere shifted.

The moment I began to sing, the dead air in the room caught fire.

All the men, Luca included, snapped their heads in my direction like they were pulled by a string.

Luca's voice rang out, high and clear, tinged with disbelief and something like awe.

It was like he couldn't believe that clean, haunting voice—with just enough wild edge to be dangerous—was coming from someone like me. A beat-up mess with cheap makeup and dollar-store clothes.

Glasses clinked.

"Yo, dude. What'd I tell you?" Luca's voice was full of swagger. "I got a keen eye for girls, huh? Any girl who catches my eye is always top-notch!"

He paused, then added with extra enthusiasm, "What do you wanna hear? I'll have her sing it for you."

A second of silence.

I could imagine the look in Kai Hunter's eyes from across the room—dark, unreadable, and terrifyingly cold.

Click.

I heard a flick of a lighter.

Then his voice—low, emotionless, and colder than ice.

"We're not talking business anymore?"

"W-we are..."

Luca's voice dropped, noticeably more cautious now. Though technically they were partners, in that moment, he sounded like an underling scrambling to explain himself.

He clicked his tongue, clearly irritated but smart enough to hold back. Then he said in a low voice,

"Joe's going back, and that means it's open war with their boss. My grandpa's birthday is in a few days—they're definitely gonna show up."

Kai exhaled smoke and spoke like he was commenting on the weather.

"Then let them come."

The smoke drifted across the room in a lazy cloud, wrapping around everything.

Luca pressed on, his tone heavier now.

"If this turns into a fight, the Vittoria Family won't play nice. You've been gone too long—you don't know how bold they've gotten. They're practically on our level now."

"It won't come to a fight." Kai's voice cut through the haze, filled with a casual confidence that didn't invite argument.

The end of his cigarette glowed red. He flicked the ash like he was brushing away a speck of dust.

"Chris's hold on Ravenport is untouchable."

His words were cold, final.

"They won’t openly make things ugly. Just play host and smile."

He looked up then, but there was nothing in his gaze—just black, empty precision as he gave the order.

Luca's voice paused noticeably, carrying a hint of hesitation. "And the stuff behind the scenes... you'll handle it?"

Kai didn't reply—but his silence said enough. White smoke curled up from the slight opening of his shirt collar and his long, slender fingers, blurring the sharp edges of his features.

His gaze, distant and indifferent, settled on the large screen ahead through the haze.

Up on the screen, my song was coming to an end.

The final note dropped, and I could tell their tense little standoff was done—for now.. Hesitantly, I slid down from the tall adjustable bar stool.

I moved like a kitten poking its head out after a scare, my steps light, careful.

Even without looking, I could feel it—that same icy, invasive gaze locked on me.

Instinctively, I looked up—and met a pair of eyes as deep and frigid as a frozen lake. Jolted, I quickly walked over to stand beside Luca, folding my hands in front of me in the most harmless, submissive pose I could manage, like an object awaiting inspection—soft, obedient, and soulless.

"Don Romano," I said softly, "I've finished the song. Would you like... another?"

To my surprise, Luca didn't hassle me. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed two stacks of hundred-dollar bills into my arms.

"Not bad. I'll call you next time."

Money in hand, and basically pardoned, I smiled wide and bowed with the cash hugged to my chest, then stepped politely aside.

"Thank you, Don Romano!"

Luca laughed as he looked at me. "Look at you—still a little money-hungry gremlin! Hilarious... Dude, she's not much to look at, but she's got something, right?"

Mr. Hunter didn't respond. He gave Luca a side glance, leaned forward, and crushed his cigarette into the ashtray with deliberate force before standing up.

Luca finally got the hint. His grin faded.

"You're leaving already?"

Mr. Hunter finally spoke. "You can enjoy your little games here if you want. I've got other business to take care of."

Luca frowned and stood up too.

"Games aren't the point! I've got a whole list of plans we need to go over. You walk out now—how are we supposed to move forward?"

Kai paused and said, "I'll take care of Vittoria. Eastbrook will be ours. I'll only take thirty percent of the cut. But you need to find me the formula for a perfume called 'Abyss Noir.'"

I couldn't catch every detail, but my ears perked up. What kind of perfume was that important—enough for Mr. Hunter to show up in person and even give up a chunk of Eastbrook's profits to get it?

Luca looked intrigued and nodded.

"A perfume formula? No big deal. Send me what you've got, I'll get my guys on it. But first... can we go over my plan?"

"You're not needed for this part."

Mr. Hunter threw the words over his shoulder and walked out with long, purposeful strides, brushing past a group of glamorous women making their way toward the VIP lounge.

I seized the chance to bolt out too.

In the hallway, I lingered beside the elevator, fingers tightening around the stack of bills. As he turned, our eyes locked—Mr. Hunter's gaze cool and unreadable—just as the doors glided shut, sealing the final inch of distance between us.