Nothing here resembled Dot’s.
Everything was intentional. Lighting designed to flatter, voices hushed to conceal more than they revealed. Even the staff moved like they were part of some unspoken choreography she’d learned beat by beat.
Marco’s subtle head tilt when someone needed watching.
Fatima’s quiet double tap on the bar cut them off—with grace.
Arden hadn’t always felt a sense of belonging, but she never let that show.
Confidence was armor here, and lately, it didn’t feel borrowed.
This sliver of time between midnight and closing belonged to her.
The club shifted into something more intimate. Still gleaming, but gentled by the hour. Secrets came easier now, wrapped in laughter, masked by shadows.
Marco passed, his hand sweeping up empty glassware with practiced ease. “Another round for Palmer,” he said, voice low. “Also, Arty’s back. Third night this week.”
She glanced toward his usual stool.
Arty Burnett watched the room with idle focus. A predator disguised as a patron. Unsettling, but not new.
Her phone buzzed.
She fished it from her pocket, expecting Penny’s latest chaos.
Unknown: Starting over doesn’t erase the past.
Her blood iced.
The towel slipped from her hand, hitting the bar with a muted thud.
She froze.
Instinct surged, dragging her gaze across the room. No one out of place. No clear threat. The familiar hum of the club felt flimsy against the cold creeping in.
Wrong number.
A coincidence.
Nothing.
Her phone burned in her pocket. A text. A ghost from Silverbranch, reaching through the cracks.
It was nothing.
She reached for a glass. Her grip was too tight around the stem. It nearly slipped.
Her rhythm wavered. Muscle memory failed her.
A man two seats down arched a brow. She didn’t meet his eyes.
Another appeared at the far edge of the bar: posture relaxed, suit flawless, expression unreadable.
He raised his glass in silent acknowledgment, his smile tilted, just this side of menace. Nothing overt. Nothing alarming.
But something about him twisted in her gut like a warning too quiet to explain.
She looked away fast, wiping the counter even though it didn’t need it.
