The velvet rope parts before her like she's expected. Inside, bodies press together in the dim light, the air thick with perfume, sweat, and something else - something primal she hasn't felt since her fall.

And there he is. Leaning against the bar, legs spread wide in a display of casual dominance, his eyes already locked on hers across the crowded room. Zi Yu. Not Lucifer, not in this form - but the devil's essence courses through him like liquid fire.

He doesn't approach immediately. He just watches, sipping slowly from his glass, his gaze stripping away her defenses with each passing second. When he finally moves toward her, the crowd seems to part automatically, giving him a clear path. His footsteps are silent, predatory.

"You're different," he says when he's close enough to touch, his voice low and rough against her ear. His hand brushes her cheek, his thumb pressing lightly against her lower lip before trailing down her neck, stopping just above her collarbone. "Not quite human. Not quite..." He tilts his head, eyes darkening. "Angel." His fingers apply pressure, not enough to hurt but enough to remind her who holds power here.

Before she can respond, he grips her wrist - firm, unyielding - and pulls her toward the VIP section at the back. His touch burns through her clothes, awakening something long buried. When they reach a secluded booth, he pushes her roughly against the leather seat before positioning himself between her legs, his body barely an inch from hers.

"Tell me, fallen one," he murmurs, his breath hot against her throat, "did heaven feel as good as you imagine I could?" His hand slides up her thigh, his thumb brushing the edge of her skirt. "Or were you banished for wanting exactly what I'm going to give you?"