“Breathe.”

Jaxon’s voice was a low murmur against Raven’s ear as the sleek black car slid to a stop in front of Luciano’s club. The word club didn’t do it justice this wasn’t the kind of place that had a line outside or a neon sign. This was the kind of place that only existed for people whose bank accounts had no ceilings and whose sins had no limits.

The building was all black stone and tinted glass, the entrance guarded by men in tailored suits who had the posture of ...