The Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled to a stop right in front of The Vault's entrance. The sound of its smooth engine was barely audible, contrasting with the thumping techno music beginning to seep out from the club's concrete walls. Julian stared out the dark window, watching the line of people beginning to lengthen under the flickering neon lights.
"We have arrived, Sir," the driver said as he hurried out to open the door.
Julian stepped out. The humid night air greeted him, carrying the distinct scent of wet asphalt and cigarette smoke. He straightened his charcoal grey suit, feeling the weight of the Sovereign’s Seal wrapped around his wrist. Only a few hours ago I crawled out of here with a back that was nearly broken, he thought bitterly.
Leo, the giant of a bouncer who usually ignored
