Amara's POV

My hand trembled, a small, involuntary movement as I poured the last of the amber liquid into the glass. The men in the VIP booth watched me, their eyes filled with a predatory amusement that made my skin crawl. I placed the bottle back on the tray, my gaze fixed on the table, and took a step back, a silent signal that my work was done.

"Where are you going, little bird?" one of them, the oldest of the group, said, his voice a low, condescending purr. "The night is still ...