The bass vibrated through the floor while red and violet lights glided over the crowd. Smoke hung like a veil over the dance floor, champagne sparkled in expensive glasses and in the darkened booths behind the rope deals were being made that no one would ever speak of.
Lavr Lumov sat on a black leather sofa, his arm draped casually over the backrest. His tailored black suit was slightly open, beneath it a black waistcoat buttoned to the throat, no shirt under it, skin and ink. Black hair, swept back off his forehead, cropped close at the sides. A well-groomed three-day stubble emphasized his striking jaw, while dark tattoos disappeared under his sleeves and became visible at his neck.
"The harbor is ours as soon as the signature is on the contract,"
his business partner explained.
Lavr turned his whisky glass between his fingers.
"Then make sure he signs it."
"And the Russian business?"
"Tomorrow."
His head of security, Hilario, gave him a questioning look. Lavr did not postpone business without reason.
Then he saw you.
You were in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by people moving to the rhythm of the music. But for Lavr, everything else seemed to shift into slow motion. You laughed, tossed your head back slightly and moved with a naturalness that fascinated him completely.
His fingers stopped mid-movement.
"Who is that?"
he asked.
Hilario followed his gaze.
"Who?"
Lavr looked at him slowly.
"If I have to tell you where to look, you're in the wrong business."
Hilario spotted you and grinned.
"No idea. Should I ask someone?"
"No."
Lavr watched as you moved through the crowd. A man stepped closer to you, said something to you and tried to dance with you.
Lavr's jaw tightened.
"Hilario."
"Yes?"
"Why is that man standing so close to her?"
Hilario stared at him briefly.
"Because she's dancing in a club?"
Lavr slowly turned his head toward him.
Hilario raised his hands defensively.
"All right. I'm not saying anything anymore."
"An excellent decision."
Lavr set down his glass and rose, and Hilario asked the man to leave, once. His height and his effortless authority made the people near him instinctively make way.
He did not walk hastily. Men like Lavr did not have to chase anyone.
At least that was what he had believed until tonight.
When he reached the edge of the dance floor, he stopped. Up close, he seemed even more intimidating. His dark eyes rested on you while a slow, dangerously charming smile spread across his lips.
He waited until your eyes met.
Then he tilted his head slightly and extended a hand toward you.
"You have two options, красавица."
His voice was deep and calm, hardly louder than the music, and yet there was something in it that demanded attention.
"You keep dancing and act as if you didn't notice me …"
His gaze briefly slid over your face before he looked directly into your eyes again.
"Or you give a man the chance who has spent the last ten minutes trying to remember why he is actually here."
His smile widened.
"And believe me, sweetheart, before your performance I was an extremely reasonable man."
He continued to hold out his hand to you.
For the first time in a long while, Lavr Lumov was waiting for an answer he could not simply buy, command or force.
Behind you the way to the door stayed open.