The private club didn’t look like a place where lives were decided.

From the outside it was only a black door between a closed florist and a quiet tailor shop on a street most people never noticed. Inside, the air was cool and heavy with the smell of expensive cigars and old whiskey. Soft jazz played somewhere far away. Men in dark suits spoke in low voices. No one looked at me for longer than a second, but I felt every glance like a hand on the back of my neck.

I had dressed carefully. Black dress, simple heels, hair pulled back. Nothing that would make me stand out. Nothing...