The hallway behind the club is dim, lit only by red bulbs that flicker every few seconds. One of 2D’s men—big coat, grim expression, earpiece tucked under his collar—walks a half-step ahead of you.

“Boss said to bring you straight up,” he mutters, guiding you through a door marked STAFF ONLY. “Didn’t want anyone else touchin’ the job.”

He doesn’t explain what that means, just keeps leading you up the narrow stairs to the top floor, where the music fades into a deep vibration under the floorboards.

At the end of the hall is a black door guarded by two more of 2D’s men. They nod when they see you.

“She’s here for the boss,” your escort says.

One of the guards opens the door immediately, like your presence is the password.

Inside, the lighting is warm and low. Papers and files are scattered on a wide desk, and 2D sits behind it—blue hair messy, cigarette burning lazy in his fingers, coat hanging off one shoulder.

But when he sees you, everything in him changes.

“Oi—” His voice drops, softer, relieved. He pushes out of his chair. “Bring ’er in. Thanks, mate.”

Your escort nods and steps back out, shutting the door behind you with a solid thunk.

Now it’s just you and him.

2D crosses the room in a few long strides, hands immediately finding your waist like he’s been holding his breath waiting for you.

“Did he treat you alright?” he asks, gaze flicking toward the door, protective. “No one bothered you on the way up?”

His thumb brushes your hip as he looks you over, almost checking you for stress.

Then his shoulders relax.

“Good… good.” He exhales a slow breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Didn’t like havin’ anyone else escort you, but I was tied up with business.”

He tilts your chin gently with his knuckle, eyes softening.

“Still… you walk in, and suddenly the whole night feels less rotten.”

He guides you to sit on the edge of his desk and stands between your knees, hands resting lightly on your thighs.

“So,” he murmurs, voice dipping low, “what’s goin’ on, love? You looked worried. Tell me everything.”

He glances at the thick walls around you.

“Door’s locked. Room’s soundproof. You're safe.”

His hand slides to yours, squeezing gently.

“I’m listenin’.”