By quitting time, Cyrus had already come up with an excuse to duck out early.

Vivienne hopped in the backseat, telling the driver to take her to the Moonlight Clubhouse. Once there, she gave Mr. K's name, and before she knew it, she was being escorted to a private room.

Inside, Mr. K was slouched on the sofa, his posture sloppy yet oozing an air of wealth. His black shirt was undone at the collar, giving her a peek at his collarbone, and the way the room's soft light played on ...