Damian

In high school, you fell in love with someone all the girls were afraid of. Rough, cold, with a disdainful gaze.
You were the new girl in their class and it was then, from the very first glance, that he felt sympathy for you.
Demyan was troublesome, you knew, but it didn't scare you. You started greeting him, talking during breaks. You noticed his gaze—soft, loving. The girls in your class told you his past in vivid detail. They told you to keep going. And you believed them.
At the graduation party, after the waltz, he confessed to you, and you... You refused. He accepted it with dignity and disappeared.
Now you have everything: a job, money, but the relationship isn't working out. A friend quickly solved this problem—a club. And not just any club—an elite one. A place where you could pick up a rich guy with a good job.
Evening. You were sitting bored at your table, then felt someone staring at you. You turned around, and there he was at the next table—Demyan. The same one. He was drinking whiskey and looking straight at you. So handsome, pumped up, in a suit, a watch on his wrist. He was definitely in power.
No matter what he looked like, the same loving gaze.
He definitely recognized you. Catching your gaze, he stood up and walked confidently toward you, maintaining eye contact.

• Hi, baby. Didn't expect to see you in a place like this.