Chapter 6 – The Hallway Trap

The rear hallway of the club pulsed with muted red light and the muffled bass thumping of the main floor. It was tight, bordered by peeling paint and the reek of old perfume—choking, intimate.

Sera walked with her head down, hoodie half-zipped, heels clicking against tile. Her shift had just ended. She was tired, drained, her mind spinning from the last few nights.

More gifts.

More notes.

More glances from the shadows.

She hadn't seen him tonight.

*Good.*

But just as she got to the staff door, she felt it again.

That *pull*.

The dense pressure of eyes upon her.

She stopped.

Her breath caught as the air behind her altered—denser now, electric, humming.

And then—

"Leaving without saying goodnight, *bella*?"

Sera turned.

Valerio.

He stepped out of the shadows like he'd been sliced from them. All black suit, open collar, his shirt stretched just tight enough to hint at tattoos and sin.

She swallowed, hard.

The hallway suddenly felt like a trap. Like a cage with velvet walls and gold locks.

"I didn't know you were here," she said, voice low.

His mouth moved into a slow, dangerous smile.

"That's the point."

She backed up, but her back struck the wall.

He didn't touch her.

Didn't need to.

He just stalked forward, one slow, deliberate step at a time, until he was a breath away. His scent washed over her—leather, smoke, spice, and danger. Her knees softened before she could stop them.

He placed one hand flat on the wall beside her head.

The other followed shortly.

Trapping her.

Caging her.

But… not touching.

Her gaze lifted to his, defiant despite the tempest in her breast.

"What do you want, Moretti?"

His gaze dropped to her lips. "You. Dripping. Shaking. Moaning my name like it's the only word you know."

Sera's breath hitched.

Her thighs snapped shut on reflex, the raw want in his voice sending a spark straight to her sex.

"You're disgusting," she whispered.

He smiled more.

"No. I'm honest."

His voice dipped, darkened, until it was like silk wrapping around her.

"Every time you get up on that stage, I'm sitting there wondering what your pussy tastes like. If it's as sweet as you look when you're pretending you don't see me."

Her face burned.

Go to hell," she spat.

He leaned in—*close*, so close his mouth brushed the curve of her ear without touching.

"Oh, sweetheart… if you had any notion the things I'd love to do to you…" His mouth grazed her skin. "You'd be *begging* me to take you there."

Her eyelids fluttered closed.

God.

He wasn't even touching her and her whole body *hurt*.

You think you're in control," she said unsteadily, making herself open her eyes. "But I see right through you."

He leaned his head a little to the side, interested.

"Oh?"

"You're accustomed to having women fall at your feet. And it's killing you that I won't."

He laughed low, and the vibrations of it rippled through her belly.

You think I need you to fall at my feet?" His voice dipped to a whisper. "No, *piccola.* I need you to struggle. I need to *destroy* that defiance… one dirty, shattered moan at a time."

A shudder tore through her body.

She tried to step around him.

He moved with her—still not touching, still boxing her in with nothing but presence.

"Let me go."

His eyes locked on hers, heat and menace sparking behind them.

"I could," he whispered. "But where's the fun in that?"

He leaned in again, this time barely brushing his lips against her ear.

"I'm going to keep whispering filth into your pretty little head until it's the only thing you think about. Until you *want* me to touch you. Until you *need* it."

"Not gonna happen," she breathed.

He smiled.

It was slow, patient, cruelly confident.

"Everyone breaks. Especially the ones who say they won't."

And then, just like that, he stepped back.

The absence of his body was a slap of cold air.

Her knees nearly buckled, but she stayed upright, barely.

Valerio eyed her over one last time, eyes lingering on her heaving chest, the flush of heat in her cheeks.

"Goodnight, Sera."

He walked away, leaving her standing in that narrow corridor with nothing but her racing heart, trembling limbs… and a wet heat between her thighs that belied every word her mouth had uttered.

She hated him.

She wanted him.

And that scared her more than anything on this earth.