After ending the call with Aurora, Xander tucked the phone away, his expression hardening as he stepped out from the dimly lit alley.
Beneath the dim glow of the city's neon lights, his altered appearance—a concealed identity with hardened, unrecognizable features—camouflaged him among the shadows. His stride was confident as he crossed the street toward the throbbing bass beats of the nearby nightclub.
Inside, flashing lights cast chaotic bursts over the packed dance floor as patrons revelled in the thick haze of smoke and heat. Xander cut through the crowd, his sharp gaze locked ahead as he bypassed the dance floor and ascended a narrow staircase leading to a secluded section.
Two burly guards stood before a door at the top, their faces stone-cold as they sized him up. "Sekem," one of them greeted him, a hint of respect laced in his tone.
