ELARA.

The hallway reeked of cigar smoke and money that had blood on it. I was only supposed to drop the envelope at VIP 3. Third door on the left. Simple. In and out. Instead my fingers closed around the wrong handle and the door swung open before I could stop it.

A single spotlight cut through the dark. Black leather chair. One man sitting like the rest of the city already belonged to him. Dark suit. Collar open. Gold watch catching the light every time he shifted. He looked up the second the door clicked shut behind me.

His mouth curved slow.

“You’re late, baby. Get on the stage.”...