Chapter 9

• Adrian's POV:
• The club was bathed in golden light, the kind that made everything look expensive—because it was. From the velvet-lined booths to the low-hanging crystal chandeliers, this was a place where the elite came to forget the weight of their own power. A place where money wasn’t just spent but worshiped.
• I leaned back against the plush leather of my private booth, the glass of Macallan in my hand catching the dim light as I swirled the liquid lazily. Aged to perfection, smooth as silk, a drink meant for men who didn’t settle for less.