He gulped down the remnant of the Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru wine glistening in his wineglass as his eyes followed the every move of the stripper before him as the soft music played in the background.

He was currently in one of the clubs he owned in Manhattan. He had hundreds of them across New York, thousands across the country and millions across the globe.

There were two females hanging off of him and a third one who was currently pole dancing before him. A blonde in a hot pink lingerie, a redhead in a baby blue one and the stripper, who was a brunette, was in a fiery red-hot lingerie.

He had discarded his suit jacket and tie as he sat in his plain white T-shirt with a few buttons undone, revealing his ravishingly tanned chest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, making his inked forearm muscles be on show.

The blonde and redhead let their hands roam round his body as wet kisses followed wherever their hands touched. His eyes were trained on the brunette dancing before him, his cold eyes boring holes into her half naked body but his mind was far from his body.

He blinked back to reality before reaching for his empty wineglass. Without looking at her, he motioned for the blonde to fill his glass with the wine. She fearfully did so and as she poured, a bit of the wine spilled on his hand due to how hard her hands shook.

In fear and despair, her eyes immediately widened as she stilled. The redhead, having noticed her friend's slip up, also stiffened in fear for her friend's life. They all knew the man they were dealing with. Everyone knew who Jordan Kale was.

They had all heard different tales of his ruthlessness though not one of them had exactly experienced it. They believed that whoever was on the receiving end of his wrath never lived to tell the tale because it was the harsh reality; Dead men don't talk.

Feeling the cold drop trickle down his hand, he slowly turned his head towards the blonde, his expression frozen solid. She immediately dodged her head and went down on her knees, clasping her hands in plea for her life.

"I. . . I'm so sorry, sir. It was not i-intended. Please. . . I'm r-really sorry," she stammered as she shivered in fear, her face as pale as a white paper sheet.

The brunette had sensed the shift in the atmosphere and she peeked just in time to see her blonde friend kneel before the cold-blooded and desensitized devil. She gulped and feared for her friend's life but she dared not stop dancing since his attention was solely on her.

Jordan sipped his wine, still looking at the blonde. The tangy and nippy yet sour taste of the Burgundy wine ran down his throat, leaving a bitter effect. He tauntingly moved closer towards her, looking deep into her soul. She knew the best thing to do would be to look away but she couldn't when his eyes held her in place.

She couldn't even run if she wanted to. The exit was barricaded by a couple of tall and hefty guards. There was no escape. She was just like a mouse surrounded by a group of cats.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers when she saw him raise his wine-drenched hand and move it towards her. She turned rigid when she felt him wipe his hand on the swell of her breasts which was on show due to the pint-sized lingerie she wore.

He immediately went back to his original position as though nothing had happened, stunning the life out of the blonde. She immediately scrambled to her feet and sat beside him again, unable to keep the strawberry pink colour from invading her white cheeks.

She felt hot. His mere touch had left her wanting and craving for more. She squirmed in her seat as she felt her core already wet and throbbing with desire. He was a dangerous man, ruthless, heartless, wouldn't think or even bat an eyelash when it came to ending a life but even with all these qualities, he was an undeniably striking man.

Calling him a sight for sore eyes was a mere understatement compared to his beauty. He couldn't be described as a man of ethereal beauty, no. Nothing about him was heavenly. He was carved from the pits of hell. Like the Lucifer walking amidst mortals, he was sinisterly beautiful.

This was a man that made women drool at the mere sight of him. A man that made women question if it was the same God that created their husbands or fiance and this devilish beauty before them. He was craved by all, yet attainable by none. He was too hot and dangerous to touch or have. A wild, untameable plague that could destroy whatever stood in his path in seconds yet everyone seemed so drawn to him.

She suddenly wanted him. She was scared out of her wits but still she craved him. So with that thought in mind, she moved her hands across his chest, inching dangerously closer to his member.

He made no reaction, no expression, his face completely blank and expression completely bleak. She took his bleakness as a positive response as she went lower, past his taut and rock hard abs. An accomplished smirk made its way unto her face as she felt his belt buckle.

Ignoring the 'do you have a death wish?' look from her redhead friend, she dared to grip the rod, only for a strong, merciless hand to grip her neck.

She paled as she felt the air get knocked out of her, making her grip onto the hand in fear. Her eyes widened further as she felt his hand tighten around her throat, squeezing it tightly.

The hand guided her face to look into the eyes of its owner. She found herself looking into pitch-black eyes of immeasurable depths. They pulled her in, caged her in and stripped her bare. She felt him looking into her soul and suddenly she was lost. She struggled to look away but she couldn't.

The hand went tighter and she gasped for breath but the oxygen didn't seem to be available. She felt tears trickle down her cheeks and she couldn't help but feel like her end was near. She could feel her eyes slowly rolling to the back of her head and she couldn't help but bite her lower lip in regret.

She regretted wanting a man she knew was right before her yet he was so out of everyone's reach. Her desire and need had gotten the best of her. She had wanted to test the waters and now, she was drowning in them.

Her face was turning a shade of purple and she was about to give into the darkness that was calling her until she heard a male voice call out.

"J.K."