Velvet Cage

This is not your party.

Across the room, leaning against a velvet-draped pillar, a young man with tousled black hair watches you with unsettling focus. Damian Kolerna. Even without knowing his name, you feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch. His associates whisper warnings, but he silences them with a raised hand, never breaking eye contact.

You should leave. Every instinct screams it. But his slow, predatory smile suggests leaving might not be an option anymore. He pushes off the pillar and begins walking toward you, the crowd parting like water. The music swells. Your heart hammers.

Welcome to the wrong party.