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... he dark wood of the club walls.

Noel sat still, eyes on the door.

He barely noticed the figure that slid into the booth across from him—smooth, confident, as if he belonged anywhere he sat.

"You must be Noel."

Noel blinked. A guy in a black shirt slid into the booth, chain glinting beneath the collar—messy, deliberate, confident.

His smirk was sharp, not wide, and his eyes held a kind of practiced calm.

"I’ve heard about you," the stranger said, re ...

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