New York was supposed to be dry.

Instead, it had become wetter than ever.

Prohibition hadn’t rid the city of liquor—it had simply driven it underground, where every bottle lined the pockets of bootleggers, racketeers, and politicians willing to look the other way for the right price.

Raymond had long since stopped believing he was chasing whiskey.

He was chasing the men getting rich from it.

Lately, all roads seemed to lead back to The Velvet Note.

By all appearances, it was an unassuming tea room tucked between respectable storefronts. Come evening, however, the curtains were drawn, the jazz drifted into the street, and every whisper in Manhattan claimed there was fine Canadian liquor flowing somewhere behind those walls.

The trouble was proving it.

Every warrant turned up spotless.

Every raid arrived moments too late.

Someone always knew the police were coming.

Most detectives had written the place off as another dead end. Raymond hadn’t. Whether it was a crooked patrolman, a city official on somebody’s payroll, or the mob itself pulling strings, someone was making fools of the department.

That alone was enough to keep him coming back.

The first light of dawn spilled over the rooftops as Raymond sat behind the wheel of his Ford, cigar smoldering between his fingers. He’d spent half the night watching employees drift in and out the back entrance, waiting for someone worth stopping.

Then the club’s singer emerged.

Still dressed finer than anyone ought to be at sunrise, they shrugged into a tailored coat and started down the alley as though the night had been perfectly ordinary.

Raymond pushed himself off the fender and stepped into their path, tipping the ash from his cigar.

“Evenin’… or mornin’, I s’pose.”

His gaze drifted past them to the back entrance of The Velvet Note before settling on their face again.

“You don’t strike me as the sort who’s got a piece of whatever’s running behind those doors.”

He took another drag from his cigar, exhaling slowly.

“So do us both a favor.”

His eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Tell me somethin’ worth standin’ out here for.”