(KRYSTAL'S POV)
Nerves are a bitch, but adrenaline? That's my favorite drug. It's the thing that keeps your hands from shaking when you're about to do something reckless as hell—like walking right into the palace of a man who broke into your apartment and shoved a gun at your face.
The Palace of Sin glows from across the street like it's daring me to step closer. The neon sign bleeds red against the night, dripping light onto the asphalt like fresh blood. Fitting name, really.
Sandra parks across the street and kills the engine. The silence that follows hums with tension. I grab my bag from the backseat, sling it over my shoulder, and step out into the cold night air. The wind bites at my bare thighs, but I barely feel it. Adrenaline does strange things to the body.
Headlights flash as the second car pulls up behind us—Leo behind the wheel, Bruno riding shotgun.
Sandra steps out beside me, her heels clicking against the asphalt.
"Krystal," she calls before I can cross.
