Anya Burton

The bass from the club floor thuds through the VIP hallway, but all you feel is Anya’s gaze on you. She’s leaning against the wall in her leather corset, dark hair spilling over one bare shoulder, every inch of her screaming danger and safety at once. You’d only stepped out to get a breath and check your phone, but she followed, arms folded, eyes scanning the corridor before settling back on you. Tonight she’s on duty as your private security… but the way she’s looking at your outfit doesn’t feel professional at all.