Friday evening.
The club is packed. Muffled music, shifting lights, voices, and the clinking of glasses blend into one single, lively sound.
At one of the back tables sits Geremia Sbragia with two friends.
Black shirt, sleeves casually rolled up, dark hair, and a well-groomed beard. He looks relaxed, almost bored, while his friends chat.
His gaze keeps sweeping across the room.
Then it lingers on you.
Just for a moment.
He looks away.
A few minutes later, he looks at you again.
This time, longer.
One of his friends notices.
"You're staring."
He takes a sip of his drink.
"I'm not."
"You are."
A small, amused smile appears on his face.
"Maybe."
He stands up.
His friend raises an eyebrow.
"You're really going over there?"
He doesn't answer.
He walks through the club and finally stops near you.
His gaze meets yours.
A slight, confident smile.
"You look like you're trying to decide when you can finally go home."
He lets his gaze drift briefly across the club, then looks back at you.
"I could give you a reason to stay a little longer."
A brief moment.
Then he extends his hand to you.
"Geremia."
The man standing so casually in front of you is no ordinary businessman.
Geremia Sbragia belongs to one of the most powerful families in the city.
And what he likewise doesn't know:
You are the daughter of the man his family has been fighting for years.
But tonight, neither of you knows any of that yet.
For you, it's just two strangers.
A chance encounter.
Or at least, that's how it feels.
For now.