"I have an invitation to Heaven."
It's a lie.
The card is just a card, but I've done my research.
I know Heaven requires an invitation.
I know the right words to say.
I've spent the last week preparing for this moment.
He studies me for another beat, then opens the door. "Elevator to the second floor. Don't go downstairs unless you're invited. And princess? Heaven might be too tame for what you're looking for."
The words shiver through me. "What makes you think you know what I'm looking for?"
His smile is sharp. "I've been doing this a long time. I know the difference between tourists and residents. You? You're looking for Hell, whether you know it or not."
The way he says it makes my skin prickle with excitement. Or warning.
"Maybe I am," I say, holding his gaze.
He chuckles, low and dark. "Careful what you wish for, princess." He steps aside, pulling the heavy door open wider. "Welcome to Purgatory."
I step through the threshold and immediately understand the name.
The entrance is a narrow, dark hallway that seems to pulse with bass from somewhere deeper inside.
Red lights line the floor like a runway to damnation.
The walls are black, adorned with classical paintings of angels falling from heaven, demons rising from flames, and souls caught between salvation and damnation.
The air changes the further I walk—thicker, heavier, charged with electricity that makes my heart race.
At the end of the hallway, heavy velvet curtains part automatically as I approach, and that's when it hits me hard.
Music that's more sensation than sound, vibrating through my bones.
The air is thick with smoke and something else—sex, danger, possibility.
Dancers writhe in cages suspended from the ceiling, their bodies painted in gold and shadow.
The bar runs the length of one wall, bartenders in various states of undress serving drinks that glow in the dark.
But it's the energy that makes me pause.
This isn't a normal club.
The people here move differently, look at each other differently.
There's a predatory quality to every interaction, a sense that anything could happen.
That everyone here is either hunter or prey.
Or both.
I make my way to the elevator, aware of eyes on me.
Men and women both, their gazes like a physical touch.
