Deal with the Devil

SLOANE

GOD, I hoped I knew what I was doing. Through the windshield of my car, I looked up at The Velvet, feeling my stomach churn. I felt like I was making a deal with the Devil here, although if I were honest with myself, Rocco Varga was one fine-looking devil. Glancing at the black card on the passenger seat, I tried to recall what he’d told me on the phone this afternoon after I’d finished wit