Chapter 9 – Madeline
The next two weeks after the masked man’s threat was a blur of research and sleepless nights. Every detail I uncovered about Club V seemed to fall into a web of names, connections, and whispers of things better left unsaid.
My desk was a mess of notes and printouts, my laptop screen split into endless tabs that felt more like puzzle pieces than answers.
Sean Weston’s name kept surfacing, tangled with Jaxon’s military past and hints of something deeper — something I couldn’t yet grasp. But no matter how much I dug, the pieces refused to align.
It was maddening, frustrating, and just enough to keep me going.
Amid the mess, Quinn had become a surprising constant.
Her texts arrived like clockwork, usually sprinkled with emojis and light-hearted banter that cut through the storm in my head like a welcome ray of sunlight.
Quinn had a way of pulling me out of my worries without even realizing it, her relentless optimism and casual charm serving as a counterbalance to the weight I carried.
She’d been quick to reach out after our first lunch, sending memes, jokes about "Club V survivor stories," and even unsolicited photos of her latest drink creations.
I didn’t mind. It was nice to hear from someone who wasn’t wrapped up in my investigation or my past, someone who just wanted to be a friend.
Still, her invitations to return to the club had been met with hesitation. Every time her texts mentioned coming back, my stomach twisted with a mix of unease and temptation. The note, the masked man’s warning — it all loomed too large in my mind, like a storm cloud I couldn’t outrun.
Her attempts to reassure me were sweet, but the idea of returning to V felt like tempting fate.
What if the person behind the notes or the masked man was watching, waiting?
Could I really afford to put myself in that position again?
Then she mentioned the event — a high-profile gala the club was hosting later in the week. Her text had been laced with enthusiasm:
Quinn: You HAVE to come to this one. It’s going to be insane. All the city’s VIPs in one room — guaranteed drama. Plus, my gal Leah’s off that night, so you KNOW it’s going to be a party. You’ll love her! Don’t leave me hanging, babe. Drinks are on me. Love ya xx
Curiosity flared to life before I could stop it. A guest list full of Vegas’ elite was practically begging for someone like me to investigate.
A story was waiting to be uncovered, and with Quinn offering to introduce me to more of the staff, it felt like an opportunity I couldn’t ignore.
I stared at her message for a long moment before replying:
Me: Alright, I’m in.
Her response came almost immediately, practically vibrating off the screen.
Quinn: YASSSSS, I like it when I win. I’m so excited I may cry. You’re going to love it and have so much fun, I swear. It’s all about the 3 D’s!
Me: 3… D’s?
Quinn: Get your mind out of the gutter, sweet girl! Drinks, Drama, and Dancing — what more could you possibly need? Unless…
Me: Unless what?
Quinn: Unless you’re looking for a fourth D ;)
Me: Oh my God, Quinn.
Quinn: Just saying, I know a guy who’s emotionally unavailableAND totally has the hots for you! Name rhymes with… Schmaxon.
Me: I’m hanging up.
Quinn: You’re not even on the phone!
I wasn’t so sure about the fun part, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that going to this event was the next step I needed to take — both for my investigation and, maybe, for myself.
When the night of the event arrived, the club was transformed into a kaleidoscope of colour and light, its usual opulence amplified tenfold.
Chandeliers sparkled like constellations, casting fractured light across the polished marble floors. Velvet ropes glimmered under the soft glow of strategically placed ambient lighting, and a red carpet stretched out like a beacon for Vegas’ elite.
The crowd was a dazzling array of gowns, tuxedos, and glittering jewels, every guest looking as though they’d stepped out of a fashion editorial.
I lingered near the entrance, taking it all in. The energy in the air was palpable, the kind that promised decadence and secrets in equal measure.
For a moment, I felt out of place, a lone observer in a sea of practiced elegance. But then I smoothed down the deep ivy dress Quinn had practically begged me to wear, the satin fabric hugging my body like a second skin. The high slit flirted with danger, while the plunging neckline was daring without being desperate. Paired with strappy heels and a borrowed clutch, the ensemble gave me just enough confidence to hold my own.
I wasn’t sure if I felt like I belonged, but at least I didn’t feel like a total outsider.
“Over here!” Quinn’s familiar voice rang out, cutting through the hum of the crowd as I stepped further inside. She was leaning against the bar, a champagne flute in one hand and a wide grin lighting up her face. Her usual bottle girl get-up was replaced by a shimmering silver dress that caught the light with every movement.
She looked more like a starlet at an awards show than someone who spent her nights ferrying drinks, her blonde hair styled in loose, carefree waves.
A modern day Marilyn.
Next to her stood another woman, striking in her own right. She was petite like Quinn, but with jet-black poker-straight hair cascading over her shoulders. Her emerald green dress rivalled mine, its colour a stunning contrast to her warm, golden skin. There was an effortless confidence in the way she stood, her dark eyes sharp and appraising as they met mine.
“Mads, meet Leah,” Quinn said, gesturing between us as I approached. “She’s one of our card dealers and my partner in crime tonight. Leah, this is Maddie Hart, my new obsession.”
Leah extended a hand, her grip firm and her smile easy, though not overly warm. “Nice to meet you. Anyone who’s friends with Quinn is automatically suspicious, but I’ll give you a pass — for now.”
“Generous of you,” I replied, shaking her hand.
Quinn rolled her eyes, the playful glint in her expression never wavering. “Ignore her. She’s just mad she can’t hustle anyone tonight.”
“Please,” Leah said, taking a slow sip of her champagne with a smirk. “If I wanted to, you’d never know.”
Their conversation was quick and light, the kind that only came from a genuine camaraderie.
For the first time in days, I felt myself relax, the tension in my shoulders easing just slightly as I let their easy energy pull me in.
“You clean up nice,” Leah remarked, her eyes scanning me briefly. “Green is a power move. I approve.”
“You’re one to talk,” I said, gesturing to her dress. “I’m starting to think Quinn only hangs out with people who can rival her sparkle.”
Quinn laughed, twirling the stem of her glass between her fingers. “It’s a gift. I bring out the best in people.”
“And then you drag them into chaos,” Leah quipped, earning a mock glare from Quinn.
Their dynamic was refreshing, a welcome distraction from the weight I’d been carrying for the past fortnight.
As I sipped my champagne and listened to their back-and-forth, I felt a flicker of something I hadn’t felt in a long time — connection. It was fleeting, but it was there, reminding me that I wasn’t as alone as I sometimes thought.
Still, the undercurrent of tension lingered. The club might have been alive with laughter and music, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something — or someone — was watching. For now, though, I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, letting the moment pull me in. After all, I was here for more than just answers — I was here to remind myself what living felt like.
The champagne fizz tickled my nose as I took a small sip, my gaze shifting from Quinn to Leah as they teased each other over some inside joke I hadn’t quite caught. Their energy was infectious, light and easy in a way I hadn’t experienced in longer than I cared to admit.
Vegas had been a lonely city for me, a place full of people yet somehow devoid of meaningful connection. I’d spent too many nights holed up in my apartment, pouring over notes and files, my only company the soft glow of my laptop screen. But tonight was different. Tonight, I wasn’t a recluse burying herself in work. I was Maddie, just a girl having fun with friends.
Friends .
The word felt strange but good, like trying on a coat I hadn’t worn in years.
“Are you going to stand there all night and sip your drink like a wallflower?” Quinn teased, pulling me from my thoughts.
I laughed softly. “I’m pacing myself. Not everyone can party like you, Q.”
Leah smirked, raising her glass. “Nobody can party like Quinn. She’s like a human glitter bomb — messy, relentless, and oddly endearing.”
“Rude!” Quinn shot back, gasping dramatically as she placed a hand over her chest like I’d mortally wounded her.
“You also forgot that, just like a glitter bomb, I stick around until the end of time.” She leaned in, her grin widening mischievously. “You’ll never get me out of anything ever again. I’m basically permanent now. Like a tattoo. Or bad karaoke memories. Those always linger…”
For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about deadlines or threats or the shadowy figure who’d left a note warning me to stop digging.
Not tonight , I told myself. I wouldn’t let those threats ruin this. Not when I was finally starting to feel like I belonged somewhere again.
As I set my glass on the bar, a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.
A man I had recognised from photos in my research with Tim - tall and broad-shouldered, was making his way through the crowd with a purposeful stride. His sandy blond hair was cropped short and his sharp jawline was dusted with the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow. He had the kind of face that might have been handsome if it weren’t for the perpetual edge of irritation etched into his expression.
“Sean!” Quinn called out, waving him over, her bright energy cutting through the noise of the crowd.
Sean’s gaze landed on our little group, and he approached with a relaxed confidence that felt entirely natural.
His suit was impeccable, but there was an edge to him, a weariness in his sharp eyes that reminded me of Jaxon.
“Ladies,” he greeted, his voice smooth but carrying a hint of something deeper.
Quinn grinned. “Madeline, meet Sean. Sean, this is Maddie. She’s new to town and my favourite project at the moment.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sean said, extending a hand. His grip was firm but not overbearing, and his eyes flickered with curiosity as he looked at me.
“Likewise,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.
Quinn nudged him playfully. “She’s still getting used to the scene. Be nice.”
Sean chuckled, the sound low and pleasant. “I’m always nice.”
“Debatable,” Leah quipped, earning a laugh from Quinn.
I studied him as they laughed, taking in the way he held himself — calm, measured, like someone who’d seen more than he let on. He wasn’t as outwardly imposing as Jaxon, but there was a quiet intensity about him that set my nerves on edge in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
“Enjoying the night so far?” Sean asked, his attention shifting back to me.
“Definitely,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s been… enlightening.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the layers beneath my words. “Enlightening, huh? Sounds like you’re still figuring this place out.”
“Something like that,” I replied, keeping my tone casual.
Quinn looped her arm through mine, pulling me closer. “Don’t let him scare you. Sean’s bark is worse than his bite.”
“I don’t know,” I said, glancing back at him. “I think I can handle it.”
Sean’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, but there was something unreadable in his eyes — a flicker of curiosity, maybe even suspicion.
Before I could dwell on it, Quinn tugged me toward the dance floor, her excitement palpable.
“Come on, Maddie,” she said, grinning. “Time to let loose.”
As I let her pull me into the crowd, I caught Sean watching me, his expression thoughtful. It was a small moment, fleeting but enough to send a shiver down my spine.
I pushed the feeling aside, determined not to let it ruin the night. After all, I’d spent too long hiding from life.
And yet, as the music thumped around me and the laughter of my new friends filled the air, I couldn’t shake the sense that the night wasn’t done throwing surprises my way.
Around me, the crowd was alive with laughter and movement, everyone caught up in their own worlds. But no matter how much I tried to lose myself in the buzz of the night, that prickling sensation at the back of my neck refused to fade.
I was being watched.
I scanned the room, forcing my movements to stay casual as I sipped my drink. Faces blurred together in the dim light, too many to pick apart. But every so often, I felt it — a weight on me, like eyes boring into my back.
I shifted closer to Quinn and Leah, letting their light-hearted conversation act as a buffer.
Quinn was laughing at something Leah had said, her hand clutching the bar for balance as she gestured wildly with her drink. I smiled, nodding along, but my mind was elsewhere, hyper-focused on the feeling that someone was following my every move.
It wasn’t paranoia. I knew that now. It was the same sensation I’d felt outside the club that day, when the man had cornered me. The same unease that had haunted me since finding that first note.
“Hey, you okay?” Leah asked, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied me.
I blinked, realizing I’d been gripping my glass too tightly. “Yeah, just… long day.”
Quinn nudged me with her elbow, grinning. “Don’t tell me you’re tired already. The night’s still young!”
“Of course not,” I said quickly, forcing a laugh. “Just pacing myself.”
She beamed, satisfied, and turned back to Leah, leaving me to quietly slip away from the bar.
I moved through the crowd, weaving between clusters of people, trying to shake the feeling of being watched. The club’s energy was intoxicating, pulling attention in a thousand directions, but I couldn’t relax.
When I reached one of the quieter lounge areas, I paused, pretending to adjust the strap of my heel as I glanced over my shoulder.
A man in a dark suit stood near the edge of the room, his face partially obscured by the shifting shadows cast by the club’s ambient lighting. His posture was casual, almost too casual, as though he was deliberately trying not to draw attention to himself. But his presence was hard to ignore — there was a quiet intensity to the way he stood, a stillness that felt out of place amidst the constant motion of the club.
I caught a glimpse of his face as he turned slightly, the angular lines of his jaw sharp under the soft glow of the overhead lights. Something about him tugged at my memory, a flicker of recognition I couldn’t quite place.
Then it hit me.
It was him. The same man who had locked eyes with me the first time I’d been here.
My pulse quickened. I straightened and turned back toward the bar, my steps measured and deliberate as I slipped into the crowd. The press of bodies around me felt suffocating, but I forced myself to keep moving, to stay calm.
When I returned to the bar, a folded piece of paper sat neatly on the stool I’d left behind.
My stomach dropped.
I glanced around quickly, but no one seemed to notice or care. Leah and Quinn were at the far end of the bar, laughing with the bartender, completely unaware.
Swallowing hard, I snatched the paper and tucked it into my bag, my hands shaking. The music swelled around me, but I couldn’t hear it over the pounding of my heart.
I made my way toward the hallway that led to the restrooms, needing a moment to breathe. Once I was sure I was out of sight, I pulled out the note and unfolded it.
The same blocky handwriting stared back at me:
This is your last warning. Walk away, or you’ll regret it.
The air seemed to thin around me, my chest tightening as I reread the words. The threat wasn’t vague anymore. It was clear, direct, and suffocating.
“Something you want to share, Scout?”
The low rumble of his voice made my heart lurch. I spun around, instinctively folding my arms across my chest, where I’d hurriedly stuffed the note into my bra. The paper crinkled faintly against my skin, and I willed myself to stay composed.
Jaxon stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, his sharp gaze zeroing in on me. He wasn’t glaring, exactly, but there was a weight to the way he was watching me, like he was piecing together a puzzle I didn’t want him to solve.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, trying to cover my nerves with false confidence.
His eyes flicked to my arms, lingering there for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I could ask you the same thing,” he said evenly. “You’ve been twitchier than usual tonight.”
“I’m not twitchy ,” I snapped, though my voice betrayed me, the edge of defensiveness creeping in.
He arched an eyebrow, his expression maddeningly calm. “You sure about that?”
I shook my head, brushing past him in an attempt to escape, but he sidestepped smoothly, blocking my path with infuriating ease.
“Move,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” he replied, his tone calm but unyielding.
“Nothing’s going on,” I said, forcing a laugh and keeping my arms firmly crossed.
“Right,” he said dryly. “That’s why you stuffed something into your bra like it’s a state secret. You’re not exactly subtle, Scout.”
My heart stuttered, and a blush crept up my neck, but I held my ground. “You’re imagining things.”
Jaxon didn’t move, his dark gaze pinning me in place. I could feel the heat of his scrutiny, like he was unraveling me thread by thread.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said finally, the faintest trace of frustration slipping into his voice.
“I’m not lying,” I said quickly, but we both knew it was a poor defence.
His eyes flicked downward briefly, then back up to mine, sharp and unwavering. “You want to tell me what’s so important, or do I have to guess?”
My cheeks burned, and I tightened my arms across my chest as if that could shield me from his penetrating gaze. “It’s nothing. Just drop it.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and I could see the faint tick of his jaw, the way his frustration was building. But instead of lashing out, he leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping even lower.
“Here’s the thing,” he said, his tone laced with quiet intensity. “You don’t get to decide what’s my concern when you’re walking around my club like a walking target. So, Scout, are you going to tell me, or do I have to find out for myself?”
My breath caught, and I took a half-step back, but his presence was overwhelming, cutting off every escape route I could think of.
The paper pressed against my skin felt like it was burning a hole there, and I couldn’t help but wonder how much longer I could keep the truth from him.
He studied me for a long moment, the air between us growing heavier with each passing second. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ll do this the hard way.”