The bass throbbed like a slow heartbeat under the dim lights of Club Mirage, pulsing through the marbled floors and vibrating faintly through Sofia’s bones. It was still too early for the wild crowd or the money drunk chaos that usually swallowed the club whole on weekends. But the music was warming up, and so was the smell of expensive cologne, and chilled liquor.
Sofia adjusted the straps of her bottle service corset, balancing the chilled champagne in her hands as she weaved through the half-filled VIP lounge. Her steps were practiced, she moved like she belonged to the shadows, always one breath away from danger and survival.
When she reached the last booth, she saw him, the quiet man.
He always came alone.
The others came with girls hanging in their arms, dancers perched on their
