Elodie reached the bottom of the stairs. The air here was cooler, smelling of expensive cologne and ozone.
A wall of security guards blocked the entrance to the inner circle.
She walked up to the head of security. He was holding a clipboard.
She didn't have a pass. She didn't have an invite.
She reached into her clutch. She pulled out her roll of emergency cash. She peeled off a hundred-dollar bill and folded it into her palm.
She walked up to the guard.
I am with Mr. Chaney, she said. I am the... entertainment.
The guard looked her up and down. He looked at the sequins. He looked at the desperation in her eyes that she couldn't quite hide.
He didn't order any, the guard grunted.
He didn't know I was coming. Surprise, she said. She tried to smile. She pressed the folded bill into his hand.
The guard looked at the Benjamin. He laughed. It was a cruel sound.
Honey, the cover charge is five grand. Go buy yourself a drink.
Elodie's face burned. Humiliation washed over her. She was Elodie Jimenez. A hundred dollars was tip money. But here, without her name, she was nobody.
She turned to leave, defeated.
Wait.
A voice came from behind the guard.
A massive man with a scar running through his eyebrow stepped forward. Rocco. Cassius's right hand.
Rocco looked at Elodie. He squinted.
Let her in, Rocco said. Boss is bored.
The guard stepped aside immediately.
Elodie walked past him, chin high. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She entered the inner sanctum.
The noise of the club faded here, dampened by acoustic panels.
Cassius was leaning back in his chair. He was swirling his glass of sparkling water.
He was watching her approach. His gaze was heavy. It felt like he was touching her.
He didn't stand up. He didn't offer her a seat.
Elodie stopped at his table.
She waited for him to speak. To ask who she was.
He said nothing. He just stared, forcing her to make the first move.
You have something of mine, Elodie said. Her voice trembled slightly.
It was a terrible opening line.
Cassius raised an eyebrow.
I doubt that.
Information, she corrected. About the Jimenez family.
His eyes narrowed instantly. The temperature at the table seemed to drop ten degrees.
You are Hazen's kid, he stated. It wasn't a question.
Elodie, she said.
He looked her over. From the sequins to the combat boots she had borrowed from Sofia.
Go home, princess, he said. His voice was low, rough. It is past your bedtime.
