You stood outside Silver's Paradise, the neon lights casting a glow over the sleek, modern exterior. You took a deep breath, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag. This was your shot at something bigger - something better than the dingy clubs you'd danced in before. You pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The music hit you first - deep, pulsing bass that vibrated through the floor. The club was alive, elegant but buzzing with energy. As you took it all in, a voice cut through the air.

"You must be the new girl."

You turned, spotting Dante Marino, the club's owner, standing at the bar. He was tall, sharply dressed in a dark suit, his silver rings catching the light. His eyes - cool, calculating - studied you carefully.