I peeled off my gaming headset and leaned back in my chair, my muscles aching from sitting in the same position for so long. Six hours—the longest gaming session I'd ever done—but the payoff scrolling across my screen made it all worthwhile. Five hundred thousand dollars. The biggest payout I'd ever earned.
My fingers still tingled from the rapid-fire clicking, my eyes burning from staring at the screen. Professional gaming wasn't just a hobby for me; it was freedom, independence, the ability to build something that was entirely my own. Each victory, each tournament win, was another brick in the foundation of the life I was building for myself—one where I wouldn't need to depend on anyone else.
I'd collapsed into bed as the morning light filtered through my blinds, sleeping through the day and waking only when my alarm blared at 6 PM. My limbs felt heavy as I dragged myself from the comfort of my sheets, knowing my second job awaited. I didn't need to work as a bartender—not with the money I made gaming—but there was something grounding about it, something that kept me connected to reality when the digital world threatened to consume me.
Standing before my closet mirror, I buttoned a crisp white shirt over my black lace bra, tucking it neatly into slim-fitting black dress pants. I ran my fingers through my hair, deciding to leave it down tonight, the loose waves framing my face. A touch of mascara, a swipe of tinted lip balm, and I was done. I slipped into comfortable white sneakers, grabbed my bag, and headed out into the evening air.
The familiar neon sign of Malcolm's Bar flickered against the darkening sky as I approached. Music and laughter spilled from the open door, the usual Friday night crowd already filling the space. I stepped inside, the scent of liquor and perfume mingling in the warm air, and immediately froze.
There, lounging in the VIP section like he owned the place, was Lucian Blackwood. His presence commanded attention—dark hair styled away from his face, that sharp jawline highlighted by the dim lighting, his broad shoulders encased in what looked like an expensive suit jacket. A tumbler of amber liquid dangled from his long fingers as he surveyed the room like a king examining his kingdom.
I forced myself to look away, pretending I hadn't seen him as I made my way to the staff room. My heart hammered against my ribs, traitorously responding to his mere presence. After our strange encounter that morning, I'd convinced myself I wouldn't see him again—that whatever bizarre energy had passed between us was just a fluke, a momentary lapse in judgment that would never be repeated.
So much for that delusion.
The staff room was empty as I grabbed my apron, tying it around my waist with hands that weren't quite steady. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. He was just a man. An infuriatingly attractive, inexplicably magnetic man, but still just a man. I could handle this.
When I returned to the bar counter, Lucy and Lena were already there, both leaning against the polished wood, their attention fixed on the VIP section. Lucy's blonde ponytail bobbed as she whispered something to Lena, whose dark eyes were wide with appreciation.
"You both are really jobless enough that there's nothing else to do than to steal glances at Lucian Blackwood—" I started, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Shut up!" Lucy hissed, whirling to face me, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "How can you call him by his full name? Do you want to get fired?"
"Fired?" I blinked in confusion. "Why would I get fired? Is he the owner of the bar or—"
"Yes!" Lena interrupted, her normally composed features animated with excitement.
My jaw dropped, shock rendering me momentarily speechless. Without thinking, I turned to look at Lucian again, only to find his golden eyes already fixed on me, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Heat rushed to my face as I quickly looked away.
"He's our new boss, Seraphina, and I'm so fucking excited," Lucy practically squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
I frowned, trying to process this new information. "Why would he buy this bar?"
Both women stared at me like I'd suddenly sprouted a second head.
"Why wouldn't he buy the bar? Is it haunted or something?" Lena asked, arching a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
"No, that's not what I'm trying to say—"
"Then what are you trying to say, Miss Seraphina?" Lucy mocked, crossing her arms over her chest.
I sighed, glancing around to make sure we weren't being overheard. "You know Lucian Blackwood is a billionaire, and billionaires only buy things that will help them multiply their billions or make more billions."
A look of realization dawned on Lena's face. "Ohh, yeah, I get it now. But this bar isn't even making that much. Not enough for a billionaire to get a hundred million in profit in a year."
Lucy shrugged, her lips curving into a dreamy smile. "Maybe he bought it because he wanted a private bar he can have for himself anytime he needs one."
I couldn't help the derisive hiss that escaped me. "If he bought it for that reason, then we better prepare to become some toys for our master or get new jobs at a new bar." Without waiting for their response, I moved away from the counter, spotting a group of customers who had just entered.
I approached their table, professional smile firmly in place. "Good day, sirs. May I take your orders?"
The first man—mid-thirties, with slicked-back hair and a suit that was trying too hard to look expensive—ran his eyes over me like I was an item on the menu. He licked his lips, the gesture making my skin crawl.
"Yes," he drawled, "we would like to have a night with you, please, if you haven't already been booked, pretty."
I fought to keep my expression neutral, though disgust churned in my stomach. "I'm sorry, but I'm not on the menu. I'm a bartender, not a 304." The slang for "whore" slipped out before I could stop it, my professional mask slipping momentarily. "If you're not ready to order, I'll be returning to the counter."
I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, the second man—who had been silently observing until now—grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward him. I stumbled, falling awkwardly onto his lap, his arm snaking around my waist to hold me there.
"Don't be like that, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, reeking of whiskey. "We both just want to play with a gorgeous bartender. It isn't a crime now, is it?"
I struggled against his grip, panic rising in my chest as his hold tightened. The bar had gone quiet, all eyes turning to the scene unfolding. Just as I was about to slam my elbow into the man's ribs, a blur of movement caught my eye.
Strong hands pulled me free, and I found myself pressed against a solid chest, the familiar scent of expensive cologne enveloping me. The man who had been holding me let out a strangled cry, and I looked up to see Lucian's arm around his neck, squeezing with calculated precision. The man's face was turning an alarming shade of purple, his eyes bulging as he clawed weakly at Lucian's forearm.
"Lucian, please," I gasped, placing my hands against his chest, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath my palm. "Don't kill him, please."
The other man had fallen to his knees, begging for his friend's life, terror evident in his voice.
"Lucian, I beg you," I spoke softly, looking up into his eyes, which had taken on an eerie golden glow. "You'll kill him."
Something in my voice seemed to reach him. His grip loosened, and the man collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. Both men scrambled to their feet and bolted for the exit, nearly tripping over themselves in their haste to escape.
"Are you okay?" Lucian's voice was gentle, barely above a whisper, such a stark contrast to the violence he had just displayed.
"Yes," I answered, unable to look away from his gaze, which held mine with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.
His hands moved to my shoulders, warm and reassuring as they gently rubbed away the tension. Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, disappearing back to the VIP section without another word.
Lucy and Lena rushed to my side, each taking an arm as they led me back behind the counter.
"Are you okay, babe?" Lucy's voice was thick with concern. "Stay here for the rest of the night. We'll take the orders. There aren't many customers anyway." Without waiting for a response, she hurried off to attend to a table.
Lena squeezed my shoulder, her usually sarcastic demeanor softened with worry. "Don't be too shaken up, okay?" She followed after Lucy, leaving me alone at the bar.
For the remainder of the night, I stayed behind the counter, mechanically mixing drinks while my mind replayed the incident over and over. The way Lucian had appeared out of nowhere, the deadly calm in his eyes as he nearly strangled a man, the gentleness in his touch afterward. None of it made sense, yet all of it felt strangely... inevitable.
By closing time, my nerves had settled somewhat, though an undercurrent of unease still flowed through me. The three of us finished our shifts, chatting while changing out of our work clothes. Lucy and Lena both offered me a ride, but I declined, preferring the quiet of an Uber to decompress after the evening's events.
"You sure?" Lena asked, car keys dangling from her fingers. "It's no trouble."
"I'm sure," I insisted, managing a smile. "Go on, I'll be fine."
They reluctantly left, the sound of their cars fading into the night as I waited outside the bar, leaning against the brick wall. I pulled out my phone to check on my Uber—still five minutes away. The street was quiet now, most of the bar's patrons having already dispersed.
I was scrolling through notifications when a rough hand clamped over my mouth, another grabbing my arm with bruising force. I tried to scream, but the sound was muffled against the palm pressed to my lips. Terror shot through me as I was dragged into the alley beside the bar, the darkness swallowing me whole.
My assailants threw me to the ground, my head striking a loose stone with enough force to split the skin. Warm blood trickled down my temple as I struggled to focus, the world spinning around me. Through blurred vision, I recognized the two men from earlier—the ones Lucian had threatened.
"What do you want from me?" I croaked, pushing myself backward until my spine hit the cold brick wall.
The first man smiled, the expression chilling in its malice. "Oh, princess, we want a lot from you."
The one who had been choked by Lucian began to undress, shrugging off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head. His torso was marked with an ugly bruise where Lucian's arm had pressed against his throat. The sight of him disrobing sent ice through my veins, memories I'd long suppressed threatening to overwhelm me.
I pulled my knees to my chest, making myself as small as possible as tears began to fall. "Please don't hurt me," I whispered, hating the weakness in my voice but unable to stop it. "I beg you."
The first man grabbed my ankle, yanking me flat onto my back. My body betrayed me, limbs going numb with terror, the same paralyzing fear I'd felt years ago. I couldn't fight, couldn't run—could only plead as history threatened to repeat itself.
"Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Please don't hurt me."
They laughed, the sound echoing off the alley walls. The second man straddled me, his weight pinning me to the cold ground as he tore at my shirt, buttons flying as he exposed my black lace bra.
"Look, bro," he called to his friend, eyes gleaming with sick anticipation. "We're about to have the best time of our lives."
His hands found my breasts, squeezing with painful force that made me cry out in agony and humiliation. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of what was happening.
"That's the spirit," the first man taunted. "Be a good girl. You'll enjoy this just as much as us."
He reached for the button of my pants, and I braced myself for the inevitable violation—when suddenly, a deafening roar filled the alley. My eyes flew open just in time to see a blur of movement, followed by the sickening sound of bones breaking.
Both men dropped to the ground, their bodies unnaturally still. Standing above them was Lucian—but not the Lucian I knew. This creature before me was something else entirely.
His golden eyes shone like twin stars, illuminating the darkness with an otherworldly glow. His fingers had elongated into razor-sharp claws, dripping with what could only be blood. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, revealing fangs that no human mouth should contain. Even his stance was different—primal, predatory, powerful.
A scream built in my throat as I stared at the bodies of my attackers, then at the monster who had saved me. The scream escaped before I could stop it, piercing the night air—only to be cut short as Lucian lunged forward, his now-human hand covering my mouth.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was those inhuman golden eyes, filled with an emotion I couldn't name—rage, yes, but something else too. Something that looked almost like fear.