2
Lena’s POV
My heart slammed against my ribs as I placed my hand in his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and unshakable, and just like that, I had made my choice. I wasn’t sure if I was brave or just stupidly reckless, but I couldn’t turn back now.
He led me through the club, past scenes that blurred together—flashes of bare skin, low moans, the bite of leather on flesh. My pulse thrummed in my throat as he pushed open a heavy door and ushered me inside.
The room was sleek and dark, lit only by the glow of recessed lights casting golden shadows over a massive bed and a deep leather chair. I swallowed hard.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my eyes darting around nervously.
“Lucian,” he answered, holding my gaze.
“I’m Lena,” I offered even though he didn’t ask.
“Take off your jacke
