The heavy bass of the club below was muffled by the thick glass of Alessandro Moretti's private office, but the tension inside the room was loud enough to choke on. Alessandro sat behind his sleek mahogany desk, the glow of his laptop screen illuminating the sharp lines of his face. For the past month, he hadn't been reviewing shipments or counting cash. Instead, his sharp green eyes were locked on a surveillance photo of Guest tracing the curve of her jaw.

He was completely consumed by her. Ever since their wild, anonymous one-night stand, her ghost had been ruining his sleep. She had used a fake name and vanished from his bed before sunrise, leaving him with nothing but a lingering scent on his sheets. No woman had ever walked out on him. At first, it was a blow to his ego. Then, it became a curiosity. Now, thirty days later, it was a dangerous, living obsession that ate at him every second of the day. He found himself spacing out during important meetings, her laugh echoing in his head, completely distracting him from his empire.

He had spent weeks pulling strings and burning resources just to find out her real name, and now, fate had delivered her right back into his trap. Walking out onto the VIP balcony, he looked down at the crowded floor until his eyes anchored onto her. Guest was completely oblivious to his gaze, sipping a drink under the flashing lights. Alessandro took a slow drag of his cigarette, watching her like a hawk before gesturing to his men to go clear a path.