OLIVIA

Birthdays were meant for cake and celebration, not sneaking into the lion's den on a desperate hunt for answers.

Gravel crunched under my shoes, drowned out by my furious heartbeat. From the empty car park, the opulence of the stately Georgian manor was evident in every meticulously carved stone and perfectly pruned hedge.

L'Ombra. London's most exclusive private club, rumoured to cater to the whims of the elite. Ultimate secrecy, unrestrained indulgence, members-only. And, if Matt's information was correct, controlled by the infamous Moretti crime family.

I fumbled in my bag for the Post-it with hastily scribbled interview details. On my twenty-third birthday, of all days.

For the dozenth time, I checked my phone—still nothing from Noah.

My brother would never miss my birthday...not if he had a choice. The call history listed my vain attempts to reach him, every unanswered call and text dulling the cheery congratulations messages from everyone else today.

Blood swooshed in my ears as I took in the vast Surrey estate. Somewhere within its confines was Noah or, at least, hints of answers... Provided I got through the doors.

You'll never pull this off. These people will see right through you.

My steps faltered. How could I infiltrate a mafia-run sex club when my life was canvas brushstrokes, lectures, and working at a café?

But as the mansion loomed, a different terror clawed at me—what if I actually managed to get inside? What if this place consumed me as easily as it had swallowed my brother?

Matt hadn't told me much, although it was enough. My palms grew sweaty as a jumble of words flitted through my mind: ruthless, violent, dangerous. The kind of people you would pray never to meet, and I was trying to infiltrate their world.

This was madness.

Surviving here was laughable, at best. I would stick out like a sore thumb. Yet, even if I didn't want to be here, I couldn't walk away either.

"Don't draw attention to yourself. You don't want to find out what real danger is." Matt's instructions didn't ease the rising urge to turn and run home.

But as images of Noah, alone and trapped, flashed through my mind, I clenched the Post-it tighter.

The revelation that my brother was looking for our biological father had thrown everything into chaos, yet not nearly as much as the fact Noah was missing now after investigating our runaway parent's rumoured mafia connections. Did he attract the wrong attention?

My breathing sped up, my lungs begging for air. Whatever the case, I couldn't give up hope—this club was my only lead, even if it took me straight to hell.

Mustering my courage, I marched towards the mansion, only to scramble back again. On and on this ridiculous dance went until the headlights of a passing car made me jump.

Get a grip, Olivia. No one knows who you are or why you're here. The thought was cold comfort against the goosebumps pricking my skin.

"Are you alright, miss?"

The owner of the deep, commanding voice came with an even deeper pair of brown eyes. He leaned against a sleek sports car, his expression both captivating and unsettling, sparking a tingling awareness I couldn't shake.

Crap.

Each step he took towards me rippled with power and lethal grace.

Double crap.

"The real excitement is inside, you know," he said, his tone the dangerous kind of smooth.

Frozen, I was incapable of forming a sentence as my brain turned to mush. He looked like he'd just stepped off the deck of a yacht, for God's sake. Olive complexion, strong jaw, loosened tie—every inch the Mediterranean playboy in his fitted suit. Yet, beneath the gentleman's facade, something not quite tamed fascinated and intimidated me in equal measure.

He grinned, and everything in me purred. This was so not good. This was temptation with a capital T.

Was he a member of the club? Stupid question—why else would he be here?

My thoughts scattered the moment my eyes landed on his lips. Lips that could make a girl forget her own name if given half a chance.

Ugh, I'd been single for too long if these were the fantasies my mind conjured at the simple sight of a good-looking man. Way hotter than any of the guys I've been with, I had to admit to myself.

"It's, erm, my first time somewhere like this."

Why on earth did I say it out loud? He didn't need to know, even if he had probably guessed the same by now.

His grin broadened at my awkwardness. "You are in the right place, then. L'Ombra takes good care of its members, and everyone is thoroughly vetted."

"Are you trying for Member of the Month with that sales pitch?"

The sound of his laughter soothed my nerves, my unease fading under its spell. "What you'll find inside is far better than any pitch I can give, trust me. You'll have a memorable night."

"Do all newcomers get such a welcome?"

"Only the intriguing ones."

"Well, I have a talent for awkward first impressions."

"And quick wit—an irresistible combination," he replied, watching me as if trying to figure me out. "I think you'll do just fine inside if you make it past the doormen."

My pulse quickened at the challenge. "I can hold my own."

"Good to know. Some of our members enjoy...spirited debate. I suspect you'd give them a memorable evening."

It wasn't what I was here for, but that didn't stop the anticipation and caution swirling inside me. "Your bouncers must have their hands full if everyone is as eager for debate as you are."

"If you venture inside, you'll see it's far more than worth it." His eyes darkened. "I would've been happy to show you around myself. Unfortunately, I have some business to take care of tonight. But you should go in."

The unexpected disappointment that we couldn't continue our verbal sparring caught me off guard. In those few moments of playful banter, the rush of his attention focused solely on me had butterflies turning into a fluttering swarm. Attention that I suspected many women craved—

Enough. I wasn't here to flirt with men, no matter how attractive. Noah needed me.

I had to change the topic before I lost my mind completely and did something I would regret.

"It's not like my birthday could get any more disastrous," I blurted out, instantly cursing my idiocy. His niceness was disarming, but looks were deceiving here.

"Happy birthday, bella. I hope the rest of your night becomes more pleasurable."

Before I even realised what I was doing, my lips moved on their own. "Liv." Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Luca." He smiled, and a flicker of tenderness flashed in his gaze. "Enjoy your night, Liv. Maybe I'll see you around."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. This man was far too charming, dangerously so, to engage any further... Yet, it didn't stop me from stealing one last glance at him when I walked past.

Heading toward the mansion, my pulse pounded in my ears. Behind the club's front of wealth and secrecy lay danger and the potential to lose Noah forever. Faking courage I didn't feel, I approached the two security guys, dressed all in black.

Their suspicious looks and crossed arms were the only greetings I got. Was it that obvious I didn't belong here?

"Olivia Taylor. I have a meeting with Ms Sinclair." My voice wavered as I handed over my ID. One of them studied it carefully, cross-checking the list he had in front of him, before nodding to the other man to let me in.

"Come with me, please," the burly man said.

The grand doors swung inwards to reveal a lavish scene. The glittering chandeliers and marble floors accessorised by opulent furnishings spoke volumes of the club's wealth. It was a place designed to make you forget the reality outside.

Did Luca hang out here a lot? I shoved the thought aside because I was not here for whatever this place offered.

The bouncer led me through endless dim corridors to a plain door with a keypad lock, punching in a code. "The staff areas are this way."

We continued to an office, where he motioned me to go in. "They are expecting you."

Two sleekly dressed women appeared on the other side. The tall brunette approached, her authority apparent despite the simple sleeveless buttoned top and high-waisted black trousers.

"You must be Olivia." Everything about her was tailored to poised perfection, from her tidy updo to her stiletto heels. "I'm Catherine, the club manager."

A curly-haired redhead scrutinised me from behind the table. "Scarlett Andrews, HR manager." Her introduction made it clear every word would be judged.

Steadying my shoulders, I did my best to appear more self-assured than the nervousness twisting my insides. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Catherine's intense look set me on edge. "Please, have a seat."

Sitting down, I flashed what I hoped was a confident smile.

"From what I understand, you haven't previously worked in our particular line of work," she noted, cutting through my facade.

"That's true, but I adapt quickly. And I'm open to new opportunities."

Scarlett folded her hands, her fiery hair blazing in the sterile room. "Your CV claims experience in dealing with demanding clientele."

My nerves were going haywire, buzzing with each doubtful look. Working at an art cafe was mundane compared to this, but I had dealt with challenges. Just not criminals...or sex clubs.

Doubts crept in again, but I maintained a calm exterior. "That's right. I ensure customers leave satisfied, no matter what, and I can manage anything thrown my way."

Was the arched brow my answer won me a positive sign or not? Both were hard to read.

"The hours here are demanding, the standards exacting." Scarlett leaned back. "We expect nothing short of excellence."

"I can handle it."

"That's good to hear," Catherine picked up. "Let's be clear, however—this isn't your typical workplace. This position requires certain...discretions. Our members value privacy and pay well to satisfy particular preferences. Confidentiality and an open mind are required to satisfy them."

This didn't sound like the straightforward waitressing Matt had described.

Scarlett straightened in her seat, tapping one long manicured nail on the papers in front of her. "Our rules are strictly enforced. No exceptions." Her saccharine tone and forced smile radiated restrained irritation. Shouldn't HR managers be gentle and welcoming?

Tamping down my growing unease, I also plastered on a smile, squashing the red flags in my mind. "I understand the importance of discretion and professionalism. I won't disappoint you."

Yet, she seemed unconvinced, gaze raking over me like I was nothing more than a poorly executed figure drawing. "I'll be honest, Miss Taylor—you aren't the typical candidate L'Ombra looks for."

The blunt remark sliced through me. If this were any other interview, I'd have wondered if her words were an insult or a compliment. But despite not fitting in this world, I needed this job. Whatever it took.

"If you give me a chance, you will se—"

"Perhaps." Scarlett raised a hand to stop me. "It's more... How should I put this? Off the record, you seem too innocent for what happens here. I'd hate to hire you only to have you quit within a few weeks."

Nononono. This couldn't be happening. Were they going to reject me?

I looked at Catherine with pleading eyes, almost holding my breath until she inclined her head and said, "She'll do for now. We are short-staffed, and we'll see if she has potential."

"Don't say I didn't warn you, but your call, Cat. One condition: a probationary period. And she must be supervised by someone more experienced at first—I don't want a harassment complaint on my hands."

Catherine took her own inspection of me while I tried my best to remain still and confident. "Fine."

Hope surged when Scarlett turned to me. "If you sign the non-disclosure agreement," she said, not thrilled by the outcome, "the position is yours."

She slid a document across, and I signed it without hesitation, too relieved to read the clauses inside. All that mattered was I was in. One step closer to finding Noah.

"You're a student?" At my confirmation, Catherine gave a tight smile. "The wages here are generous. And the bosses don't mind if staff are creative in finding tips."

My stomach flipped at the implication. Her look said it all, there was no need to spell it out.

"However, consent and discretion are paramount. Breach either, and your employment will be over. Understand?"

I managed a jerky nod, a cold sweat breaking across my skin. Lustful glances and wandering hands flashed in my head, leaving me struggling to keep my hand steady as I signed the contract.

"Congratulations, Miss Taylor." Catherine rose and extended her hand, her firm grip emitting control. "You're part of the L'Ombra family now. Let's go get your badge."

Waving Scarlett goodbye, I followed her through the maze-like club to a classy lounge.

"Have a seat. I'll grab everything," she said and disappeared. Alone, the rich scents of leather and liquor dizzied me with the new reality of my life.

Nerves prickled under my skin while I took in the unfamiliar surroundings, perched on the edge of the high chair. In the distance, glasses clinked and rowdy laughter echoed, music vibrating through the air as the club's sounds overwhelmed my senses.

The weight of my decision to enter this place willingly finally sank in. I rubbed my clammy hands on my dress to steady my whirling thoughts, but it was useless.

"If it isn't the birthday girl."

The velvet voice sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. I turned to find him watching me, lips curved in a smirk that stole what little air remained in my lungs.

"Luca." Seeing him again was not part of the plan. Not when I had to maintain composure for my mission.

His intense gaze made my mouth dry, my mind reeling in his proximity. He was close, so close I could catch the heady blend of spice and musk that was uniquely him. I swayed slightly, lightheaded and helpless against the gravitational pull of his presence.

"Enjoying the club so far, cara?"

Before I could stammer out a response, Catherine reappeared, and her eyes widened a fraction at the sight of him.

"Oh, I thought you'd left for the night." The familiarity in her tone suggested a close relationship.

A pang of jealousy struck, and I hated myself for it. It was unwelcome. Irrational.

Was it because I had to share his attention? Or the unsettling reality she was more his match than me?

The thought of her telling him I was too innocent and unfit for this place wrenched my stomach.

Ugh, what's wrong with me? The ugliness churning inside wasn't like me. Something about L'Ombra—or Luca—robbed me of all rational thinking.

"I was on my way out." He spoke to her, yet his focus never left me. "But something...intriguing caught my eye."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I hoped the low lighting hid my blush, although his growing smirk suggested otherwise.

"Perfect timing, then," Catherine said, seemingly unaware of what was going on between him and me. "I know you like to be informed about the recruits. Olivia Taylor is one of our new waitresses. She'll start with us as soon as she completes her training."

It wasn't the mention of my name that caused my pulse to spike, but the knowing grin that spread across his face as she introduced me. He must be an extremely important member to be kept in the loop like this.

I stood taller, determined not to prove Scarlett right earlier about not fitting here. But as Catherine continued, a smug glint sparked in Luca's eyes.

"Olivia, meet Luca Moretti, one of L'Ombra's owners. You'll be seeing him around here often."

My world tilted, the floor dropping out from under me as my mission came crashing down.