Aside from seeing my father, it’s actually him who I’ve been excited to see.

He’s notorious, mysterious, a recluse of sorts, and only the most powerful get to be blessed to be in his presence. He rarely leaves his mansion, but this is the Morelli party after all, so even he doesn’t turn down the invitation.

His name is known in the underbelly of the dark world.

“That’s Nick Hudson,” Sasha says to me, as if I don’t already know.

He’s not a Morelli. Actually, quite far from it.

He’s wearing a black pinstripe suit and holding a black cane with a ruby perched on the top. He walks in cadence with the Christmas music playing in the room. Tattooed hands, neck, and intricate tats on each side of his shaved head gives off an air of danger—and sparks the wannabe bad girl locked inside of me desperate to come out. I don’t need to see what’s beneath his suit to already know that he’s inked from every square inch of his body.

I want to taste the madness on this man.

And by the way that heads turn when he enters the room, I’m not the only one.

He has an entourage of security flanking him on both sides, though from his very presence, it’s clear the man can take care of himself. It’s all for show… Nick Hudson can shred anyone to pieces with his bare hands if he needs to.

But he never needs to.

“He’s not a man to mess with,” Sasha continues. “His name, and his private club known as Wonderland give him a reputation as a man to party with, a man to have on your side, a man to work with, but definitely not a man to cross.”

I remain quiet, not letting on that I know exactly who Nick Hudson is. I already know he’s one of the leaders of the underground, and he knows the dance of the devil intimately. And after learning everything about this man, I know I want to tango with his darkness.

Maybe it’s because he’s the first person I’ve obsessed over other than a Morelli. I see someone I want to be in him. I want a name like his.

A name to be respected. A name to be feared.

Right now, my name—Lyriope Bailey—is a name that remains in the shadows.

Forgotten. Not important. A side note.

But not him. There is nothing about this man that can be forgotten.

I’m fascinated with the tales and stories of debauchery that surround Wonderland. And though the Morellis are exclusive, Wonderland is truly restricted as it’s invite only for the few. I want the key. I want the pass to enter. I want a seat at one of his infamous tea parties.