He saw her before she saw him.
Before she even stepped inside, his eyes were already fixed on the entrance of the club, growing frustrated by every passing second when she didn't appear.
And when she did, he wasn't prepared for what he saw.
Zei's breath stopped in his lungs; there seemed to be no air left in the entire universe. He knew she was beautiful, yes, but it was not the kind of beauty he had ever seen before.
He had had all sorts of women throw themselves into his arms: models, singers, actors, and celebrities from every walk of life. But this—being drawn to someone like a moth to a flame, an artist to an inscrutable painting, a madman to a tiger—this was wholly, utterly new.
Why the fuck was she dressed like that?!
