The club Victor chose for the meeting wasn’t the kind of place you stumbled into. It was buried beneath the skin of the city, tucked behind a faceless steel door, guarded by men who carried themselves like shadows. Inside, the air was heavy with cigar smoke, dim golden light bleeding from ornate lamps, and the low murmur of deals being cut behind closed booths.
Adrian arrived with the effortless swagger of someone born into danger, his jacket cut sharp, his movements unhurried, as though the whole world bent around his timing. He didn’t knock, didn’t wait. He pushed the door open, his presence dragging attention with it like a storm entering a still room.
Victor was already there. Seated in the corner booth, half his face hidden in shadow, half carved into cruel light. The scar across hi
