The devil you know
Emma told her.
“Sure thing,” Veronica said, quickly handing Emma’s order to her. Emma spun around in her chair and looked out over the club. It was a Friday night and despite it being early, it was already packed. The rumours that if you were lucky, you could see angels dancing on the dance floor and the club’s special drink, Angel’s bliss, had caused a spike in its popularity. The fact that it was said to be owned by the mafia added an extra hint of danger and excitement. When Emma felt relaxed enough and the music got to her, she got off her chair and moved out on the dancefloor. She had become used to dancing in the crowd and she trusted whoever was covering her to keep the men away. Emma