18
The neon lights of Graves Nightclub pulsed like a heartbeat, casting shifting shadows over the crowded entrance. Selene pulled the hood of her jacket lower, keeping her face hidden as she scoped out the scene. The bouncer at the front door was built like a tank, but he wasn't her problem—getting to Kellan Graves without him seeing her coming was.
Damian, still healing but stubborn as ever, leaned against a nearby alley wall. "You sure about this?"
Selene didn't answer right away. She wasn't sure—but she didn't have a choice.
"Stay here," she finally said. "I'll handle it."
Damian sighed. "You mean you'll go in, start a fight, and leave me to clean up the mess?"
Selene smirked. "You know me too well."
She moved before he could argue, slipping into the line outside the club. The bass-heavy music thrummed beneath her feet. The closer she got, the more she could feel the weight of her past pressing down on her.
Kellan Graves owed her a favor. But knowing him, he'd make her bleed for it first.
---
The Hacker King
Inside, Graves Nightclub was chaos wrapped in luxury. Expensive booths lined the walls, filled with criminals, socialites, and the occasional washed-up celebrity looking for a thrill. The VIP section was elevated, surrounded by dark glass—a throne for the man she came to see.
Selene walked straight to the bar, her gaze fixed on the balcony above.
The bartender, a woman with steel rings in her nose and dark red lips, raised an eyebrow. "You don't look like you belong here."
Selene slid a hundred-dollar bill across the counter. "Tell Graves an old friend is here."
The bartender smirked but pocketed the cash. "Name?"
"Selene."
The woman's smirk faded. "You've got a death wish."
Selene only smiled. "Just give him the message."
Minutes passed. The music pounded. Selene could feel the weight of eyes on her, whispers passing through the crowd. Then, a figure emerged from the VIP entrance above, staring directly at her.
Kellan Graves.
Tall, lean, and dressed in a tailored black suit, he looked every bit the ruthless tech mastermind he was. His silver watch glinted under the dim lighting as he leaned against the railing, his smirk cold and calculating.
Selene could read the challenge in his eyes: You have the nerve to show up here?
She smirked back. Damn right I do.
A guard appeared at her side. "Boss wants to see you."
Selene followed without hesitation, her pulse steady. This was enemy territory, but she wasn't here to beg.
She was here to win.
---
A Deal with the Devil
The VIP room was dimly lit, lined with expensive leather seating and screens displaying security feeds. Kellan sat casually, a glass of whiskey in hand. He didn't offer her a seat.
"So," he said smoothly, "which part of our last encounter made you think walking in here was a good idea?"
Selene crossed her arms. "The part where you still owe me."
Kellan chuckled, shaking his head. "You really don't fear death, do you?"
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I need information on Vincent Cade."
Kellan's smirk disappeared. "You're playing with fire, Selene."
She tilted her head. "You scared?"
Kellan leaned back, studying her. Then, after a long silence, he gestured to the seat across from him.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's talk."
Selene had just walked into the lion's den. And she wasn't leaving until she had what she needed.