Chapter 1 - THE BLOOD IN THE ALLEYThe freezing rain fell in relentless sheets, pounding against the concrete pavement behind Coda nightclub. I lay curled on my side in a stagnant puddle of dirty water, every breath dragging sharp, agonizing needles across my ribcage.
The copper taste of blood filled my mouth.
Standing over me in heavy steel-toed leather boots was Ricky, Coda's ruthless club manager. His face was twisted into a grotesque sneer as he reached down, grabbed a handful of my wet hair, and yanked my head violently backward.
"Admit it, you worthless little rat!" Ricky spat, the heavy stench of cheap bourbon on his breath. "You stole forty dollars from the register!"
"I... I wrote it in the ledger," I gasped through cracked, bleeding lips, tears stinging my eyes as rain washed over the deep cuts on my cheek. "I took it... for my electric bill... I was putting it back on Friday..."
Ricky didn't care about the forty dollars. He didn't care about my power being shut off, or the fact that I had scrubbed Coda’s floors for fourteen months without missing a single shift. He cared about power. He had already decided I was a convenient punching bag to vent his late-night rage, and kicking my thigh again was just his way of ensuring I knew my place.
Then, a sleek black Maybach rolled into the alley, its engine purring so quietly it sounded like a breathing phantom.
The back door opened. Four large men in tailored suits stepped out into the pouring rain, one holding a heavy black umbrella over the man who walked into the center of the light.
Ricky instantly let go of my hair, stumbling backward as his face turned the color of ash.
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It was Damian Russo.
Owner of Coda, sovereign of the night, and the most feared power in New York's shadowy underbelly.
