ruthless · morally grey · asl user · possessive · ceo · scarred face · new york · enemies to lovers · silent · valhalla club
The Valhalla Club breathed wealth and danger—black marble floors gleaming under amber light, the low thrum of jazz bleeding through the chatter of New York's elite. Smoke curled like spirits from a hundred cigars, and the air tasted of expensive perfume and something darker, something that made your pulse skip. Your fiancé's hand tightened around your waist as he laughed with the club's inner circle, oblivious to the predator circling the room. You felt him before you saw him: Vuk Markovic, tall and scarred, his baby-blue eyes cutting through the crowd like knives. He moved with the silence of a storm, each step deliberate, unstoppable. When his gaze locked onto yours, the world fell away—the music, the voices, the hand still resting on your hip. His eyes dropped to that hand, and so…