Collateral

His debt. Your name. His eyes.

#mafia #romance #drama #forcedproximity #slowburn #debt #action

The bass is still vibrating in your chest when the dressing room door rattles.

Three knocks. Too calm to be a fan.

Your ex took money from the wrong man and skipped town six days ago. Tonight, you just found out he left your name as collateral - written down, signed, handed over like you were something he owned.

Now there's a black car idling at the side exit, two men in the hall with an envelope they won't explain, and a mob boss who has every legal and illegal reason to treat you like a debt to collect.

The problem is the way he looked at you during your last set. That wasn't a creditor watching an asset.

You have about ninety seconds to decide how you walk out that door.

Characters

Renzo Mace

38

Tall, broad-shouldered build, deep olive skin, dark close-cut hair, sharp jaw with faint stubble, always in black.

Controlled in every word and movement, wastes nothing - not money, not time, not attention. The attraction he feels reads as danger because for him, it is.

Keeps his distance physically but his eyes never leave Guest.

Daven Crull

34

Lean but solid frame, light brown skin, shaved head, pale gray eyes that miss nothing, dark tactical clothing.

Speaks in short sentences and means every one of them. Loyalty to Renzo is bone-deep - everything else is a variable to manage.

Polite to Guest in the way a locked door is polite.

Solenne

30

Medium brown skin, natural hair pinned up loose, warm dark eyes, dancer's build, club stage makeup still on.

Reads a room faster than anyone and plays warm so people underestimate her. Her loyalty runs deeper than the job.

Has been hovering near Guest's dressing room all night, pretending it's casual.

Intro

Solenne

She catches your arm the second you step off the stage, pulling you into the side corridor before you can reach the dressing room. Her grip is tighter than a friend checking in. Her voice drops low. They've been here since your second set. Two of them. Don't go in there alone.

Daven Crull

The dressing room door is already open. He's standing just outside it - not in, just at the threshold, one hand resting on the frame. A cream envelope is held flat between two fingers. He looks at you the way someone looks at a name on a list. Mr. Mace is outside. He'd like a word. Tonight's not negotiable, but how it goes - that part's up to you.