Soft pants followed by a loud thud filled the basement.
Boxes were scattered across almost every corner of the room. The musty smell was partly relieved by two half-closed aluminium hopper windows.
The door opened, and Evelyn was shoved inside.
"Well, look who came to join us, Doc," Charles snickered, swivelling the chair in front of him to face her.
The doctor was seated, tied to the chair, his face badly battered. One eye was swollen shut, a few teeth broken. Blood trickled from cuts along his cheek and lips.
Charles motioned for the lamp to be turned brighter.
Evelyn froze at the sight of him. Her hands flew to her mouth as tears poured down her face. She wrenched herself from the bodyguard's grip and stormed toward Charles, glaring at him and ignoring the pain she was in.
"You bastard!"
She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it mid-air and smiled.
"A little feisty today, aren't you? Are you fighting for him… or for yourself?"
She spat in his face.
"Ah. I knew it," he said calmly. "He wasn't just your doctor. He was your lover."
His smile darkened.
"Well… I might have let him go for disobeying my orders. But you sleeping with this idiot?" He tightened his grip on her wrist. "That's something I won't forgive."
He shoved her aside, grabbed the doctor by the collar, and punched him.
"Stop!" Evelyn screamed.
"Stop!"
Charles ignored her.
The blows didn't stop.
His guards rushed forward and held her back as she struggled.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Leighton watched the blonde walk away.
"A martini for you, miss," Louis said, setting the glass in front of her.
She turned to him.
"Who is she?" she asked quickly, lifting the glass to her lips before he could walk away.
He shrugged.
She downed the martini, rolled her eyes, and pulled out fifty bucks from her purse, slipping it under the glass.
Louis glanced at the money, then at her. He sighed.
"I should pour another?"
"Yes. And the gossip too," she smirked.
"She works here. An exclusive dancer. Mostly entertains the rich lads who come around," he said, placing a fresh martini in front of her.
She slid another fifty into his hand.
"Where do you think she is now?"
He hesitated. "She's exclusive to just one client. And he's a fan of negronis. They should be having a private session in the VIP lounge."
Leighton emptied the second glass and smiled.
"Want another?" he nodded at her empty glass.
"Yes. Two tequila shots, please."
He placed the glasses on the counter and poured tequila from an almost empty bottle.
Louis bent to reach for another bottle. Leighton quickly grabbed the filled shot glass from the counter and disappeared into the crowd.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The lamp flickered for a moment.
Silence enveloped the room, broken only by Evelyn's quiet sobs and Charles's heavy pants.
Evelyn was kneeling on the floor in front of the physician's corpse, still tied to the chair.
Charles stood with his face to the wall, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't known murder required this much effort. Besides, he had barely done any work himself, till now.
"You." He pointed at one of the guards. "Clean this up."
He wiped his face with the back of his hand, removed his knuckle dusters, and dropped them into a tray held by another guard.
"Guess I went too hard on him," he chuckled. "Wanted to take things slow. He was always quite the fast one." He smiled, satisfied, and headed for the exit.
"Where the hell are you going?" Evelyn croaked, her voice icy.
He paused. "Did someone say something?"
"You bloodthirsty bastard!" she screamed, lunging for him.
"You didn't just murder an innocent man, you disrespected his death"
She grabbed his shirt, looping her arm around his neck, using the last of her strength to choke him.
The guard behind her rushed forward, trying to pull her off.
"Get off me, you bitch!" Charles spat after several seconds of struggling. With the guard's help, he broke free.
"Quite the surge of energy," he sneered, straightening his shirt. "Your lover's death must be doing wonders."
More guards rushed in.
Evelyn was forced to her knees, her hands tied behind her back. Her frizzy hair fell over her face.
Charles walked up to her, lifted her chin…and slapped her.
She spat at his shoes.
"You won't get away with this," she said through clenched teeth.
"Well," he wiped his hands on his shirt, "I already have."
He kicked her.
She collapsed, whimpering.
"Look, Don't you ever…" another kick, "dare touch me again." He kicked her again and again until Andy placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We have to go, boss," Andy said calmly. "The meeting is tomorrow."
Charles exhaled sharply, then stormed out of the basement.
Andy paused, whispering to the guard behind Evelyn.
"Clean her up. Update me."
As he stepped out…
"Sir," Ray called out, his voice tight. "I can't find a pulse."
Andy froze.
Slowly, he turned back.
From the hallway, Charles's muffled voice called his name.
++++++++++++++++++++++
"Oops, sorry," Leighton chuckled nervously as she shut the door behind her.
She'd walked straight into the middle of a threesome.
That made three wrong doors tonight.
This place was really unholy. Then again, it was a club, what had she expected?
A few doors later, she pushed open another one.
The room was large. Spacious. Private.
This had to be it.
This VIP lounge was exclusive to one person. A short, narrow passage led from the door, quieting the noise before opening onto heavy velvet curtains.
The room was a large one, dimly lit and washed in deep amber and red tones. A low chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals scattering light across velvet sofas and a low marble table littered with half-empty glasses. Smoke lingered in the air, sweetly cloying, blending with perfume and drinks. A slow bass thudded through the walls, muffled but constant.
She slipped behind the curtain just as the dancer climbed off the man. He slumped back against the couch, clearly wasted.
Leighton immediately recognised the blonde from earlier.
"Looking for something?" Zara snapped.
Leighton shook her head slowly, eyes roaming the room until they landed on the glass of negroni sitting untouched on the table.
Zara cleared her throat, lifting a brow.
"Oh my, forgive me," Leighton said lightly. "It's been a while since my last drink. I heard the guy at the bar makes the best negroni." She reached for the glass.
Zara lunged to stop her.
Leighton stumbled instead.
Zara caught her, but the damage was done; liquor soaked into her lingerie as the glass shattered against the floor.
"Oops," Leighton said, already steady again.
"What's going on here?" Dario mumbled.
"This intruder just spilled her drink on me, baby," Zara whined, irritation sharp in her voice.
Dario's gaze slid to Leighton. "And who are you?"
"Well," she said carefully, "mister…sir…I'm your lawyer. You scheduled a meeting an hour ago and didn't show. Given the urgency of the matter, your bodyguard asked me to come down here."
She forced herself not to stutter.
"Luca did?" his brows drew.
"Luca did?" His brows pulled together.
Leighton nodded.
He mouthed an oh, shaking his head.
"Are you really going to believe that?" Zara snapped. "Your Fridays are always cleared for us. How could you forget that?"
Dario glanced at Zara. "She does have a point," Dario said slowly, eyes still on Zara. "Miss…?"
"Woods." Leighton said.
"Woods?" Zara scoffed. "My client doesn't know any Miss Woods." Her eyes narrowed.
"He gave you an upgrade?" Leighton cut in, her voice turning icy. "What are you now? His contact manager?"
"You're an imposter. I'm calling security." Zara spun towards the door.
"You might want to change first," Leighton called after her. "You reek."
Zara stormed out of the lounge.
Leighton turned back to Dario. "Mr. Stranger, we need to leave. Now."
"Uh…What?" Dario slurred.
++++++++++++++++++++++
The lights flicked on in the office Elena shared with Leighton.
A masked figure slipped inside.
The figure rummaged through Leighton's desk and drawers before settling in front of her computer.
Fingers flew across the keyboard for five minutes. Then a cell phone rang.
"Sir…"
"What is it?" Charles said from the other end.
"The plan's coming together but it seems we might have a problem."
"Fix it." Charles's voice was cold. The line went dead.
Moments later, the figure shut down the computer and slipped out of the office, leaving the lights on.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"I think the door is this way" Dario muttered as they made another turn down the corridor.
An iron door stood a few steps ahead.
"Look who finally offered to help," Leighton teased.
"At least you haven't given up your sense of direction to ethanol."
They reached for the handle, but the door opened first.
A dark-skinned woman stood there, about five-six, long black hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She wore a fitted black suit, posture rigid, eyes sharp.
"Uh, can I help you?" she asked.
Never seen much of her here. Leighton thought.
"Uh…" Leighton hesitated. " Yes. Actually. You could help us call a taxi."
The woman, Monica, cocked her brow and folded her her arms.
"Hm."
Leighton caught the skepticism immediately. She straightened Dario, who had been leaning against the wall. He swayed, then slumped back, offering a crooked wave.
"He's my brother," Leighton said quickly, forcing a nervous chuckle.
"We had a meeting with some clients earlier. I didn't realize he planned to… crash here."
Dario lifted his hand again. "Hi."
Leighton pressed on. "I was called to pick him up as soon as possible. Paparazzi are lined up outside, and with a deal pending, this would be a terrible look."
Monica studied Dario for a long moment.
He smiled sheepishly.
She exhaled. "Fine."
She stepped aside, pulled out her phone, and made the call.
Minutes later, she helped guide Dario into the cab.
"Thank you so much," Leighton said, sliding in after him.
Monica nodded once as she shut the door.
"Get home safe."
Leighton returned the nod as the car pulled away.
Only then did she let out the breath she'd been holding.
Monica watched the taillights disappear into traffic.
Something about the woman didn't sit right.
Too composed. Too quick.
She glanced back at the iron door, then down the corridor they'd come from.
It was her first night on the job. And already, something felt… off.
Monica exhaled, straightened her jacket, and turned back toward the club.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
BACK AT THE LOUNGE…
Zara stepped back into the corridor outside the lounge. The bouncers she'd brought with her remained stationed by the door.
One of them lifted a brow.
"We just missed her, idiots," she snapped, then exhaled sharply.
"What about your client?" the bouncer asked.
"Guess he got bored and went home."
"I thought you said he was wasted?"
She chewed on her nail. "I know." then added softly "he was."
He scoffed. "Guess we both know who the moron is."
He walked off. The other bouncer, who hadn't said a word, followed without looking back.
Zara stared at the empty lounge a second longer than necessary, then rolled her eyes.
She let out a slow breath, then turned and headed straight for the back entrance.
++++++++++++++++++++++
Leighton helped Dario onto the couch.
Looks like he was crashing at her place as she didn't trust the address he'd given her. Not that she'd ever heard of it anyway.
She shut the door and turned the lock, the sound echoing louder than it should have.
Upstairs, she grabbed a pillow and a blanket from her dresser.
By the time she returned, Dario was already snoring. She rolled her eyes, draped the blanket over him, then gently lifted his head and slid the pillow beneath it.
She let out pent-up breath with a slow sigh. She didn't realise she had been holding her breath. She turned to leave…
and Dario caught her hand.
Her heart jumped.
"You never told me your name," he murmured, barely above a whisper.
"L…Leighton," she said quickly, trying and failing, to mask the edge in her voice.
She felt his grip loosen, then turned back to him. He'd already fallen asleep again.
Leighton let out a shaky breath and headed for the stairs.
"Don't go, Leighton "
She froze mid-step.
Slowly, she turned.
Dario was sitting upright now, his eyes fixed on her. Sharp, searching.
She swallowed.