Later that evening Jaxon put on his jacket.
"I'm going to the club. You coming?"
Raven looked at him, his voice wasn't cold but neither was it soft. She knew that in the club he was in his domain.
The club was alive as they walked in, greeeted by Viktor, the low, thrumming pulse that seeped through the walls was like blood through veins. Raven could feel it under her skin as she followed Jaxon through the hallways of Eden, his stride clipped, every line of his body coiled tight as a drawn bowstring. The lights cast his face in sharp planes, the shadows darker tonight, and though his men nodded and stepped aside at his approach, Raven could sense the shift.
They knew their Don was wound tight. So did she.
Inside his office, the bass dulled into a distant heartbeat. Jaxon didn’t offer
