Kai didn’t knock on doors when he wanted answers. He walked through shadows instead.
The club was one of those underground spots in Ikeja—low red lights, bass that rattled your teeth, bodies pressed too close under the pretense of dancing. Ash liked places like this. Places where desire hung thick in the air like smoke, easy to sip from without anyone noticing.
Kai found him at the back bar, leaning against the counter like he owned the night. Black suit, no tie, hair slicked back, eyes the color of old blood. He was laughing at something the bartender said—low, charming, the laugh that made mortals lean in closer even when every instinct screamed run.
Ash saw Kai coming and didn’t flinch. Just raised his glass in mock toast.
“Brother,” he drawled. “You look tense. Trouble in paradise?
