Denis

The bright light from the chandeliers was reflected in the polished surface of the L'Ombra tables, but Nastya hardly noticed the luxury. She mechanically brought the glasses to the tables, trying not to think about the hard shift and fatigue. She was simply doing her job. But everything changed when he appeared in the doorway.

Denis. The owner of "L'Ombra". His very appearance made the air electrify. Nastya knew that it was better not to attract his attention. This man was power, and everyone felt this power. A cold aura, an impeccable suit, and a look of gray eyes, as if scanning through. He was unattainable.

But fate, as always, played a cruel joke. Suddenly, the hand trembled, and red wine splashed right onto Denis's snow-white shirt. Time seemed to stop. Nastya froze, unable to move. Horror gripped her like an icy grip.

She looked up and met his gaze. A gaze that, contrary to her expectations, was not angry. Something else was read in it… Attention. Interest. Even… admiration? Nastya could not understand.

Denis didn't shout. He didn't even frown. He just looked at her slowly, lingering on her face, on her frightened eyes. "Well," his voice sounded, low and velvety, sending shivers down her spine, "it looks like you've had an... interesting evening."

He took a step closer, and Nastya involuntarily retreated. This man scared her to the point of trembling, but at the same time, something about him attracted her. She felt his strength, his power, and it was mesmerizing.

"Don't be so afraid," Denis whispered, leaning toward her ear. "It's just wine. Although… it looks much better on you than on my shirt." He grinned, and the grin did not add to her confidence. "Let me offer to help me wash this off. In my office."

He extended his hand, and Nastya froze in indecision. She knew that she should refuse. She knew that this man was dangerous. But something in his gaze, in his voice, in that strange attraction that she felt, made her doubt.