The hum of the tattoo gun faded into silence, leaving only the soft buzz of the studio’s overhead lights and the lingering scent of antiseptic in the air. Catherine exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing the delicate outline of the fresh rose tattoo just beneath her ear, the skin still warm and slightly tender. Beside her, Elle mirrored the motion, her own tattoo—identical in design—glinting under the light as she adjusted t...

The dim glow of the tattoo parlor’s neon sign flickered against the rain-streaked windows, casting a sultry crimson hue over the black leather chairs. The air smelled of antiseptic and ink, thick with the hum of the needle gun and the low thrum of bass-heavy music pulsing from the speakers. Catherine sat first, her long legs crossed, her fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest. She wore a tight black tank top tha...

The dim, pulsing glow of neon lights bathed the entrance of Velvet Touch, the city’s most infamous gentlemen’s club, where the air smelled of cheap cologne, spilled whiskey, and the thick, musky scent of arousal. Inside, the bass of the music thrummed through the floorboards, vibrating up through the soles of high heels and polished dress shoes alike. The stage was a shrine to sin, its black lacquered surface reflecting t...