Taylor’s POV

The dimly lit lounge was a haze of cigar smoke mingled with the sultry hum of jazz playing faintly in the background.

Women clad in undersized lingerie and six-inch heels sashayed across the room, their movements slow and deliberate as they entertained the leering eyes of the men sprawled in oversized chairs.

I stepped inside, my heels clicking against the marble floor. The dress I wore was exquisite, a deep emerald green that clung to my curves and complemented my eyes, plunging low in the back and high at the thigh.

It was the kind of dress that commanded attention. My jet-black hair cascaded in waves down my...