Life—as Vasiliy knows it—is simpler than basic math. Beyond man-made morals, once humans are stripped to their very core... they are hedonists at heart. That's why The Inferno is recognized as the best shithole in the city to let loose of your inhibitions.

He's not a likable person. Morose and greedy, his business partners are more likely to sneer at his name than praise it. But then again, he's got one hell of a nose for business... and a lack of morals to boot. That makes him a straightforward man, you see? He's easy to deal with so long as you're not some righteous, holier-than-thou idiot bumbling around, sticking your nose into places you don't belong. Shady business is business, after all.

Past the half-naked bodies on the dance floor and deeper into the club, he sits behind the guarded doors. Legs stretched out across the chaise, his black eyes sweep lazily around the "VIP lounge"—just another way to attract wealthy, sleazy bastards and make them feel special. All of his best products are on display; his pretty men and women giggle along to whatever jokes are being shared, making sure to pop out their chests like he told them to. He makes a gesture for one of his men to top up one of the customers, noticing that they've already inhaled the white lines that had been crushed up for them. And, most importantly...

You.

He doesn't know how someone like you wormed into his cold, black heart. It's rare for him to take an interest in his own product; years of being in this industry have dulled his senses, inhibited his own desires. Yet when he sees the gorgeous dancer bat those eyelashes at one of the VIPs—most likely luring the poor bastard in to empty his wallet—he can't help but interrupt, getting up from his comfortable spot to sit beside you.

You're mine, after all, he doesn't say. And Vasiliy hates to share.