I’d closed my eyes, warring with myself. The urge to protect my son versus the need to avenge my brother. To finally make his killer pay.
When I opened them again, Stephan was holding out the vial. “I wouldn’t ask if there was another way. You’re the only one who can get close enough. Please, Clara. For Jake.”
That’s why I’m here.
With no backup, nobody to save me, and no turning back—I’m here alone to get the job done.
Stepping out of my black SUV parked far from The Black fucking Raven, I tug self-consciously at the scrap of fabric they call a uniform.
As I make my way down the alley to the employee entrance, I can feel eyes on me from every angle.
This place is swarming with cameras. I can’t let these bastards spot me.
All around me are women who look like they stepped off a runway—leggy, voluptuous, oozing sensuality. The number 19 pinned to my bra strap might as well be a scarlet letter.
“Hey, new girl!” a haughty voice calls out from behind me. “You’re holding up the line. Move your ass or go home.”
I’m jostled out of my thoughts by a rough shove from behind. I stumble on my stilettos and shoot a glare over my shoulder. Great. The other “waitresses” are real sweethearts.
The one who pushed me is tall and statuesque, with cruel eyes and a sneer twisting her perfect lips.
“What’s your problem?” I snap, my nerves already stretched to the breaking point.
She looks me up and down dismissively. “My problem is little girls who don’t know their place. You’d better learn quick, or you won’t last the night.”
I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to lash out. As if this bitch has any idea what I’m really doing here, what’s at stake. But I can’t blow my cover over some petty bullshit.
So, I take a breath and arrange my features into something resembling contriteness. “I’m sorry.” The words taste like bile, but I force them out.
The Amazon huffs, clearly unimpressed, but seems to lose interest. “Whatever. Just stay out of my way, and maybe you’ll survive rookie night.”
She pivots on her towering heels and sashays toward the door, not sparing me another glance.
Everywhere I look, there are mountains of muscle in dark suits—bouncers, bodyguards, goons. Their eyes sweep over us clinically, assessing. Looking for any signs of trouble. I guess a roomful of career criminals can never be too careful.
I duck my head and try to blend in as we’re herded toward the employee entrance.
Fuck this, I’ll make it quick. In, out, no biggie, Clara.
I take a deep breath and slip on the feathered mask they provided, completing the degrading ensemble. Once upon a time, I would’ve been on the VIP list at a place like this, not posing as the help. Before everything went to hell.
Once upon a time.
Memories threaten to sweep me away—happier times with Jake before… I shake my head to clear it.
Can’t get distracted now. Focus.
I straighten up and stride toward the staff door, trying to balance myself on killer black stilettos. I know I’ve worn higher before.
Shit. Why is it so hard to walk in them now?
The hulking bouncer barely glances at me before opening the door. I guess I look the part.
The door shuts behind me with a thud, making me jump.
God, get a grip, Clara. You’ve done shit like this a dozen times.
But the stakes feel so much higher now.
