The roar of cheers that rippled across the floor hadn't come from a brawl or a spilled bottle. It was aimed squarely at the foot of the elevated prime booth.
Reclined against its deep velvet cushions, Violette Valenne drew every eye in the room without lifting a finger.
Around her sat an escort of stunning, polished women, yet none of them could compete with the gravity she commanded. Every man on the floor had spent the evening stealing glances in her direction, throwing fortunes at the bar just to linger nearby. She was the undisputed desire of the room, the kind of woman who could ruin a man with a smile.
Yet despite that magnetic pull, no one had dared to cross into her corner. Her cold, piercing aura made it clear that stepping into her space was a line you did not cross without permission.
Until now.
At the foot of the short steps leading to her booth stood Raymond Cole.
