Unknown Number

Dante

The club thrummed with low bass and slurred conversation, but it never penetrated. Not a bit. I was up on the second floor, over the top floor, peering down through the smoked glass, hands stuck in pockets, watching bodies move to the rhythm below. Whiskey, smoke, and a subtle perfume lingered in the air.

It was business as usual, De Leone business. Our club was a cover for half the transact