ears open and get the evidence, the leads, we need to find out who is the behind this shit. We need to find Caine’s killer. We need to find out what happened to the Chief’s daughter. That takes priority, so keep your head in the game, alright?”

She gave a firm nod, took a deep breath in, and exhaled.

“I’m ready, coach. Send me in.”

Salvi wasn’t sure whether she should wait on the first floor again, but she decided to test whether she could make her way up alone without a pass. She gave her name to the security and he turned and pulled back the velvet curtain to allow her through. Chaney had granted Salvi the freedom to move around at will, right to the top.

She’d left her burner phone at the apartment so there was nothing to give the coat check girl other than a look into her purse. She headed straight to the bar with the overlooking angel and ordered, this time from a female bartender wearing neural devices.

“You get to play with those much?” Salvi asked, motioning to the devices as the woman prepared her drink.

The woman smiled, though it was hard to tell if it reached her eyes, as all Salvi saw were the lenses. “Sometimes.”

“Are they fun?” Salvi asked.

The woman grinned like she knew a secret. “You have no idea.”

“What’s your name?” Salvi asked.

“Anamatrix,” she smiled.

“Well, Anamatrix,” Salvi said, “you’ll have to tell me about them some time.”

“That can be arranged… for a price,” she winked, then moved to another customer who had registered for her services.

Salvi took her drink and made her way to the open lounge. As she approached one table, despite the dim lighting, she couldn’t help noticing the gentleman sitting two tables away. It was Senator William Aitken. He was looking down at a small data pane, so he didn’t see the double-take Salvi gave him. She quickly turned away, making a smooth arc and sat as far from him as possible. Not because she thought he would recognize her – they didn’t know each other – but because she wanted to watch his every move from afar, undetected. After all, this was the guy she’d seen on her TV just days before, taking part in the debate on making neural tech legal again. He’d remained fairly neutral throughout the debate, she recalled, but that didn’t make her any less intrigued by his open presence here tonight.

She sipped her drink, glancing at the Senator every now and then, wondering who he was meeting, and whether that data pane of his had connectivity in here. Had a member invited him here as a guest, perhaps to show him the other side of the argument? Or was the Senator already a regular here? Did he come here purely for the anonymity the club promised him, to stay away from the prying eyes of the media?

She continued to glance around the room, her eyes constantly drawn to the entrance to see who was arriving. She subtly watched as an actor from a popular show entered with a real estate billionaire and took one of the private glassed booths – the kind where they could still be seen. Salvi had to admit, the clientele here was something else. She was definitely going to have to step up her game and act like she belonged here with these people.

“Are you waiting for Lance?” a smooth male voice asked.

Salvi looked up to see the young, dark blond guy that Chaney had said hello to the previous evening. He stood around 5’11 with a swimmer’s physique and weighed maybe 190lbs.

“I am,” she smiled.

“A word of warning,” he said, leaning on the back of the chair opposite hers, “he’s notoriously late.”

“Yes,” she chuckled. “I’m coming to understand that.”

“Would you like some company until he arrives?”

“Sure,” Salvi said, motioning to the seat, which he pulled out and made himself comfortable in. He looked to be early twenties at best, maybe even still in college. Regardless, it was a handsome face with a strong jaw and blue eyes that still managed to stand out in the dim light. College or not, he seemed to handle himself with a poise and grace that showed a maturity beyond his apparent years.

“Sarah Parson,” she said, extending her hand to his. He took it and kissed her hand like some 19th century romantic lead. Or maybe a vampire.

“Tom Bradley,” he said. “At your service.”

“At my service? So are you a client here or do you work for Lance?”

He gave a laugh, flashing a mouth full of straight white teeth. “Oh, no, I’m a client. One of his best, if I do say so myself.”

“One of his best, huh? So have you earned your fortune young or are you a trust fund baby?”

His smile flickered a moment, unsure how to take her statement. She leaned forward as though telling him a secret.

“I’m a trust fund baby,” she whispered, then held her index finger up to her lips.

His smile steadied and he gave a laugh. “Oh, well, I guess I’m a trust fund baby too, but I actually run my own business, so I have no need for the trust, if you get my meaning.”

“Congratulations on breaking the mold.”

“Ah!” Chaney’s voice sounded as he arrived at their table. “I see Mr. Bradley’s been keeping you company.”

“He has,” Salvi smiled, as Tom stood.

“One should never keep a beautiful woman waiting, Lance,” he said.

Chaney laughed politely. “Thanks, Tom. I’ll take it from here.”

Tom Bradley gave a bow to Salvi, then moved off toward the bar.

“He’s obviously a regular,” Salvi said to Chaney.

“He is,” Chaney took a seat. “And if you leave a date for five minutes, he’s in there lavishing them with his charm.”

Salvi laughed. “Oh, he’s just young. They’re insecure and feel the need to fuck everything that moves in order to feel accomplished.”

Chaney laughed back. “Indeed they do, but I’m glad he kept you entertained.”

“He claims to be one of your best customers.”

“He is a

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