The rain-soaked streets seemed to swallow the sounds of the city, leaving only the gentle patter against the pavement and the distant hum of a late-night jazz club. Elena stood at the edge of the darkness, her eyes fixed on the neon sign that cast an otherworldly glow over the damp sidewalk. She didn’t know…

Elena’s fingers trembled as she dialed the number, her mind racing with the consequences of what she was about to do. The phone rang once, twice, and on the third ring, a deep, gravelly voice answered. “Who is this?” Marcus growled, his tone as rough as the whiskey-soaked nights Elena had heard whispers about. “This…