Rachel drove us in her car – a sleek black sedan that fit the aesthetic perfectly. The Velvet Room was in the heart of downtown, occupying the top three floors of a modern building. The entrance was subtle, just a red rope and a doorman who looked human but moved like a predator.
"Ms. Chen," he said, nodding to Rachel. "And guest?"
"Alexander Cross. He's on the list."
The doorman checked a tablet, then nodded. "Welcome to the Velvet Room, Mr. Cross. Please remember – all disputes must be left at the door."
"Understood."
We entered an elevator lined with mirrors and dark wood. Rachel pressed the button for the top floor, and we ascended in silence.
"Nervous?" she asked.
"Focused, love."
"Great." Her words came with a smirk.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped into another world.
