Chapter 15 : “Control”
*Aaron’s POV*
The Velvet Room loomed before me, its grandeur casting shadows. The street lights flickered, their dim glow. My fingers, steady despite the chill in the air, dialed Blake’s number, the familiar motions setting my pulse on a quicker march.
"Blake," I barked into the phone as soon as the line connected, my voice cutting through the night's stillness with an edge sharpened by frustration. "I need you to dig up everything you can on Michael Morgan."
On the other end, a pause, then Blake's voice, calm, measured, the sound of reliability itself. "Michael Morgan? The rich kid who’s been circling the club?"
"Exactly him. There's something off about the guy." I paced, restless energy coursing through me. The sleek surface of the club's door reflected a distorted image of my tense form back at me. "I want his dirty laundry, Blake. And I want it yesterday."