The club felt… different.
Safer.
But also colder.
Like something dangerous had passed through and left its shadow behind.
Ayla noticed the new faces first—tall, silent men at the door and near the hallway. Guards, clearly. The kind that didn't blink unless ordered.
"New security?" she asked her manager casually.
He looked uncomfortable. "Just a precaution."
That didn't answer anything.
⸻
She hadn't seen Leon since the night he pulled her out of the street.
No texts.
No visits.
No calls.
But she felt him.
In the way the guards looked at her like they'd been told who she was.
In the way no one brushed too close anymore.
In the way the shadows seemed to avoid her now.
⸻
"You okay?" Maya asked as they changed in the locker room.
"Yeah. Just…" Ayla hesitated. "Do you ever feel like something's happening around you—but no one wants to tell you?"
Maya smiled faintly. "All the time. That's what it feels like to work in a place men like him visit."
Ayla didn't have to ask who she meant.
Leon Moreno had become an unspoken rule.
And somehow… she'd been written into it.
⸻
That night, Ayla stepped outside again, nervous but determined.
No one followed her.
No strange men across the street.
Just a sleek black car parked quietly at the corner.
And a driver who tipped his hat when she passed.
No one said a word.
But the message was loud:
She wasn't walking alone anymore.