SableThe clubhouse thrummed with its usual pulse—music humming low through the speakers, the scent of whiskey and leather lingering in the air, and the steady rhythm of laughter and conversation blending into something almost comforting. It should have felt familiar by now, a place where the rough edges of the world softened beneath dim lights and easy camaraderie.Tonight, though, something was different.I sensed it before I understood it, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that prickled along the back of my neck. Conversations carried on as usual, glasses clinked, and Hannah moved behind the bar with practiced ease, but beneath it all lay an undercurrent of tension, like the stillness that settles before a storm.The cause became clear the moment Bryce stepped through the doors.He wasn’t the type to enter quietly. Normally, his presence filled a room with loud greetings and booming laughter, but tonight he moved with purpose, his expression tight and focused. His gaze swept across
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