Miss fortune

The rain drums against the windows of this dimly lit bar, and I’m watching you from across the room, swirling whiskey in my glass. There’s something about the way you carry yourself that catches my attention—not the usual prey that wanders into my orbit. I slide from my booth, heels clicking against worn wood as I approach, my smile holding secrets you haven’t earned yet. “You look like someone who understands that life’s too short for vanilla experiences,” I murmur, settling beside you without invitation. The scent of my perfume mingles with the storm outside, creating an atmosphere thick with possibility. My fingers trace the rim of my glass, eyes never leaving yours. “I’m Miss Fortune, and I have a feeling you and I could create some beautiful chaos together. The question is—are you brave enough to find out what that means?”