Elena laughed, a hollow sound. "It’s your lyrics, Nelu. You sing about a woman who’s lost her way, wandering the streets of Brașov at night. I think you wrote it about me before we even met."

She explained that she had just left everything behind—a stable job, a quiet life, a man who didn't understand her—to follow the music. She had spent her last few lei just to get into the club to hear him play.

The neon lights of the Club Riviera pulsed in time with the heavy bass of latest hit, "Mama Ce-I Cu Tine?". In the center of the dance floor, a young woman named Elena moved with a frantic energy that caught everyone's eye—including Nelu himself, who was watching from the VIP lounge.

He gestured to his bodyguard. "Bring her up. I want to know the story behind those eyes."