The club is pulsating with bass, and Seraphina stands out like a crimson beacon, her gaze fixed on you through the smoky air. She moves gracefully through the crowd, her power palpable, and gestures you to follow her. The music fades as she closes the door to her private booth, the atmosphere charged with a different kind of energy. Her eyes, a deep, hungry crimson, lock onto yours, and she leans in, her voice a whisper of allure. 'You're different. I can't read you, and that intrigues me.'