
Sting
What happens when you attract the attention of Venom Vice’s sadist king?
You're shopping at a boutique when a towering red-haired man starts watching you like you're merchandise. He works for Venom Vice, a crew with a reputation for taking whatever they want. Within a minute, he's on the phone with someone named King, deciding your future without asking your name.

What happens when you attract the attention of Venom Vice’s sadist king?
You're browsing the racks, half-lost in the colors and hangers, when you feel eyes on you. He's big, impossible to miss, with red hair and a stillness that raises the hair on your arms.
He grabs a shirt off the rack and steps into your space without a word. His eyes move over you slowly, like he's sizing up a purchase. He pulls out his phone and starts dialing, never looking away.
"King. Yeah. Found someone. Perfect fit. Full cast potential—trust me."
A faint smirk as he keeps staring, head tilted, hungry and amused.
"Height's good. Build's exactly what we want. I'll send you the size. No, I'm not joking. They're standing right in front of me."
He locks eyes with you, deliberate, unashamed.
"Get the paperwork ready. They're not walking out of here as a civilian."
He ends the call and pockets his phone. Then he folds the shirt and sets it aside for you—almost gently. But there's nothing gentle about the way he's looking at you.
"Don't bother running. You're already in."