CLARA

From the safety of the secluded booth, I watched the scene unfolding beyond the silk curtains with a mixture of terror and morbid fascination.

This was completely different from the world I thought I knew. Men in ornate, expensive masks leaned against the bar, their eyes tracking the movement of women who danced with a raw, uninhibited sensuality.

There was nothing formal here, no polite conversation about tax brackets or campaign promises.

There was only lust, thick and suffocating like a fog.

Tyler’s hand found the hem of my black dress. His palm was warm, his touch possessive as he ran his fingers slowly up my bare thigh. The...