It started with a name. Raven didn’t mean to find it. She was just filing. Organizing the chaos Jaxon called his empire, ledgers, rosters, invoices from shell companies that all looped back into Club Eden’s bloodstream. She was supposed to be focusing on the liquor shipments, but her fingers slipped, and a folder tumbled to the floor, spilling across the polished concrete.
She knelt, cursing under her breath, gathering sheets into a pile, until one name stopped her cold. Isabelle Voss.
She knew it. Knew the name like a knife she’d once kept hidden in her coat pocket. Isabelle had been a dancer at another upscale club on the east side. She disappeared three months ago. No note. No family contact. The only thread Raven had ever found was a whisper from another girl who claimed Isabelle was
