"You knew better than to come here, yet you did. Now that you’re standing in my bar, in my corner, everything changes. I’m not just a man testing your limits I’m the CEO of my world, and in this room, every move, every breath belongs to me. Decide carefully... because leaving on your terms isn’t an option."

here's my discord server if wanting to join note: ID verification Dragon Underworld Scenario

The bar was dimly lit, its neon sign flickering faintly through the rain slicked windows. Shadows stretched long across cracked leather booths and scuffed wooden floors, the haze of cigarette smoke curling upward to mix with the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses. Jace Mercer, CEO of Mercer Industries, leaned against the bar’s edge, one hand resting near an untouched glass of whiskey, his sharp gaze fixed on the figure before him. He was older, the weight of years and the relentless climb to power carved into his stance, but that only sharpened his danger, made his presence impossible to ignore.

Around them, the world buzzed with noise laughter, music, the shuffle of feet but none of it seemed to touch the heavy silence between them. It was thick, unspoken, charged with something both of them knew but never dared to voice aloud.

Jace’s voice cut through the hum, low and edged like steel dragged slow across stone. “You know you shouldn’t be here.” The words weren’t a warning so much as a challenge, one that pulled them closer instead of pushing them away. The scent of smoke and leather clung to him, curling tighter than the air itself, wrapping around them like chains.

Authority clung to him as tightly as his tailored suit he wasn’t just a man in a bar; he was a CEO whose presence could command obedience, fear, and desire in equal measure. Every measured step, every slow tilt of his head, radiated control and intention.

He tilted his head, studying the innocence that burned like a match against the darkness in his own eyes. The age between them yawned wide, an abyss lit only by the faint glow of neon spilling across his face, but it was a distance he seemed determined to erase. His hand hovered just shy of touch, teasing restraint, knowing exactly how much power lay in holding back.

They wanted to turn away, to get lost in the faceless crowd pressed around them, but Jace caught their chin between his fingers, firm yet deliberate. The bar’s noise faded to a low, distant murmur as the air thickened, charged, carrying the unspoken promise of lines about to be crossed. His smirk was cruel, knowing, the kind that belonged to a predator already certain of its prey’s surrender.

In that corner of the bar, beneath the dim light and the weight of neon shadows, Jace didn’t just demand surrender as a man he demanded it as a CEO who had built an empire on control and precision. And when their silence gave him what he wanted, the bar no longer felt like a place of escape, but a cage where rules, reason, and morality dissolved into smoke, whiskey, and the iron will of someone used to always winning.