The glow from her laptop faded as Sofia stepped out of the room, leaving Jasmine laughing at some ridiculous gossip she’d found online. She didn’t need to hear it. Not now. Not tonight. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a moment, letting herself exhale. The screen had given her the proof she needed.
Scott Millhone wasn’t just a regular patron or a wealthy guy who frequented Club Mirage for fun. He was the owner. Not just of the club, but a series of businesses, investments that spanned the city, and apparently, a budding partnership with none other than Dante Casagrande.
Her pulse quickened. The thought of it shouldn’t have fazed her, she was used to power, to money, to dangerous people, but it did. The Casagrandes were nothing but ruthless, corrupt, and greedy. The
