Elira’s POV

The jarring sound of electronic music dragged me from the depths of unconsciousness.

My head was no longer splitting, but a dull, persistent throb reminded me of the explosion.

I sat up quickly, my body instantly alert, and realized the room was different. It was small, velvet-lined, and smelled faintly of stale cologne and cheap champagne—not the concrete bunker of Amara’s hideout.

He dared knock me out and bring me to a club?

The infuriating arrogance of Aiden Calderone was limitless.

I scrambled off the luxurious velvet cot. I pushed open the door and was immediately hit by a wall of sound and light.

I was met with...