As one of the most exclusive clubs on Hell's Paradise Island, Elysium understood that true wealth eventually developed an allergy to witnesses.
Its public floors were already obscene enough, drowned in violet light, ancient wines, beautiful bodies and music heavy enough to make the tower itself seem to breathe:
Yet above and behind all that glitter were private booths reserved for the truly, offensively rich, secluded little worlds where heirs, ministers, celebrities and old-money monsters disappeared whenever they wanted to do things they could never afford to let the rest of the world glimpse.
The booth Danny Maxton had reserved that evening was one of the finest.
