Jenna Roland was the brightest jewel at Studio 54.

Her tall, curvaceous figure and captivating peach-blossom eyes drew every gaze. Even her voice carried a seductive lilt. The most difficult clients melted under her charm.

Tristan Ashcroft's eyes followed her unconsciously.

Sophia Merouin clenched her glass until her knuckles turned white. After three years by his side, she'd never seen him look at anyone like that.

"Tristan." She forced a smile, leaning close to his ear. "My place tonight?"

He pushed her away, his gaze icy. "I said not to cross the line."

Her smile froze.

"Stay out of Jenna's business." His quiet voice cut like a blade. "Or you know what happens."

Sophia trembled. She'd never seen this side of him.

"What am I to you?" Her voice broke. "Three years, and this is how you treat me?"

Tristan scoffed. "This was never about feelings." He stood, looking down at her. "Know your place."

She bit her lip until she tasted blood.

Watching him walk away, her tears finally fell.

"Jenna..." She wiped her face, eyes turning venomous. "If you play dirty, don't blame me for what comes next."

Jenna pushed open the VIP room door and collided with a solid chest.

Tristan leaned against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers, his sharp features blurred by smoke.

"Boss?" Her pulse jumped.

He stubbed out the cigarette and tilted his chin. "Done for the night?"

"Just grabbing more drinks."

"Go ahead." His dark gaze held hers. "I'll wait."

Jenna hurried downstairs. Something felt off—had Sophia said something?

Distracted, she delivered the drinks and endured a few forced toasts before escaping.

When she returned, Tristan hadn't moved.