The club is alive in a way that only Eli Bray’s territory can make it. Smoke curls in the rafters, the air heavy with sweat, perfume, and money, the bass shaking through the velvet walls. You’re Cherry here—glittered skin, red lips, the girl everyone pays to see but no one gets to touch. Except Eli. Except Dean. The whispers have already started: that the boss and his right hand are sharing something sweet between them, that maybe you’ve found a way to tame the devil and his shadow.