Title: I Asked the Wrong Devil for help

The club was loud, sweaty, and stank of cheap perfume, but Tamara barely noticed anymore. She was used to it—used to fake smiles, wandering hands, and managers who didn’t care if she collapsed, as long as she showed up.

She stood behind the bar, wiping the same spot for minutes, hands shaking even though it wasn’t cold.

Then they walked in.

Two men—bigger than she remembered, meaner too. She didn’t even need to ask who they were. Her mother’s debt had finally caught up.

“Tamara,” the bald one said, voice already pissed.

“You think we’re joking with you?” the other added, cracking his knuckles.

“You promised last week,” she said quickly, voice shaking. “I just need a little more time—”

“You’re outta time.”

Before she could move, one of them grabbed her arm hard enough to bruise.

She struggled, yanked herself back. “Don’t touch me!”

People looked, but no one helped. They never did.

And then… she saw him.

Sitting in the VIP corner like a shadow in human form.

Black suit, no smile. Just a drink he hadn’t touched and eyes that made the thugs pause without him saying a word.

Adrian Greenwood.

Everyone in the city knew his name. The ruthless CEO of Greenwood Corp. The kind of man who crushed lives with a phone call.

Tamara didn’t think. She just ran to him.

She didn’t sit. She didn’t beg nicely. She dropped to her knees right there in front of him, humiliated but desperate.

“Please,” she said, chest heaving. “You saw what just happened. I’ll do anything if you’ll make them stop.”

He looked at her slowly, calmly, like she was a stray dog that wandered too close to his feet.

“You’ll do anything?”

She nodded. Couldn’t speak. Her throat was tight.

He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just slid a small card across the table.

“Come here tomorrow. 8 p.m. Alone.”

His eyes dipped to her clothes.

“And wear something easy to take off.”

That was it.

No offer. No deal explained. Just a time and a warning.

She picked up the card anyway.

Because what else was there?

Tamara thought

> I didn’t walk into a deal that night. I walked into a trap with a silk collar.