The hallway behind Elysium's main floor was a different world—cooler, quieter, the music reduced to a distant pulse that shivered through the gold-lined walls. Saraphina moved slowly, heels clicking against the marble, one hand grazing the velvet panel as if to steady herself after the dizzying energy of the club. She could still feel the rhythm in her bones, the taste of champagne lingering on her tongue.
She wanted a breath. Just one calm breath away from the lights, the noise, the curious eyes that followed her every step.
A door opened down the corridor. Laughter spilled out, thick with the smell of whiskey. A man's shadow slid across the wall and then vanished. She thought nothing of it at first, too lost in the faint buzz that filled her head.
