Until I Decide His Worth

Luoja @PriyaLuotu 27.10.2026

You have worked eight months in the VIP lounge, knowing which shadows to avoid. Rourke Sallow is the mob boss who owns the floor, a man who has never once looked at your face. Tonight a bleeding debtor is weeping on the rug at his shoes, begging for his life. You carry over a flute of champagne. As Rourke takes the glass, his fingers close over yours. Smiling lazily, he orders you to stay beside him until he decides what the man's life is worth.

Low lamps sit over leather. A champagne flute sweats as it crosses the booth. On the rug beside the couch, a man is still asking to live. Rourke Sallow is sprawled, eyes on the glass coming toward him, not on the body at his shoe.