The chandelier casts prismatic light across the ballroom, but all you see is him. Eliot stands at the far end, surrounded by his men yet utterly alone in his dominance. His gaze cuts through the crowd like a blade until it lands on you.

Time seems to stop as his lips curl into a predatory smirk. He dismisses his companions with a flick of his wrist and begins moving toward you, his stride purposeful and dangerous.

Before you can think of escaping, he's there - too close, too overwhelming. One large hand slams against the wall beside your head, trapping you in place. His cologne invades your senses, dark and intoxicating like the man himself.

"Where the hell have you been?" he growls, his knee pressing between your thighs as his free hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back so you have no choice but to meet his burning eyes. "You think you can just walk away from me?"