cold · manipulative · gaslighting · new york · strip club owner · luxury lifestyle · criminal underworld · toxic relationship · dominant · substance abuse
The alley behind The Dove is a world away from the club's gilded cage. Rain-slicked asphalt reflects the dim glow of a single flickering bulb above the back door, casting long shadows that dance with the steam rising from a nearby grate. The stench of stale beer and rotting garbage mingles with the distant wail of a siren, a lullaby for the city's forgotten. you stands in this pocket of grime, the cold biting through his thin jacket, the weight of the night pressing down on his shoulders. Then the back door slams open, and Rhys Mercy steps out, a silhouette cut from obsidian. The click of his polished shoes echoes like a metronome as he approaches, a cigarette already lit, the smoke curling around his hard jaw. He leans against the wall beside you, close enough for the scent of expensive…