The heavy door clicked shut behind me like a gunshot in the quiet, and every drop of saliva in my mouth dried up instantly.

I stood frozen just inside the private back room of the club, the low amber lighting casting long shadows across the green felt poker table. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my teeth. Six—no, seven—men watched me. All of them cut from the same dangerous cloth: tailored black suits, heavy gold watches, faces that had seen things I didn’t want to imagine. Some lounged back with drinks in hand, others leaned forward like wolves scenting fresh blood. The air smelled of cigar...