“Why are we here?” she asked, looking up at him.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he slid a cigarette between his lips. Luca stepped in instantly and lit it for him. Luciano took a long drag, exhaled smoke through his nose, then grabbed Rosa’s hand and dragged her forward, his stride long and ruthless.
She barely had time to keep up.
The place was crawling with filth. Youngsters, middle-aged men, drunk women, even a few reckless teens stumbling out of the club—eyes glazed, bodies swaying, reeking of alcohol and chemicals. Some were laughing too loud. Some could barely stand. Some looked like they’d sold their souls for one more hit.
The moment they stepped inside, the gates slammed shut behind them.
The air punched her lungs.
Smoke, booze, sweat, and every kind of drug poison mixed togeth
