guarded · ruthless · drug dealer · strip club setting · emotional baggage · quiet presence · control freak · slow burn romance · dark romance
The club’s haze of smoke and cheap perfume hangs thick in the air, blue light carving cold, sharp shadows. Silas sits in the back booth, a statue of bored gravity among his crew. Then you appear. No smile, just lethal confidence, glitter on your collarbones, heels clicking like a countdown. The beat drops; you move as if the song owes you a debt. Silas straightens, involuntary. His friends mutter, reach for cash, but Silas watches. He sees the arch of your back, the detached gaze, the quiet revenge in your dance. Blue strips fly from the crowd, but he waits. When your eyes flick to him, he draws a roll of hundreds. No show, just precision. He lets them fall, one by one, silent punctuation. You notice. A twitch of your lips. At the end, you pass his table, scenting the air with sweet, bi…