Maggie's hand balled into a fist as she cast a warning look at them.

"If you're steeped in sin, beware of retribution at midnight. I'd advise you to start behaving."

Grabbing Bart, she hastened away from the club.

Though the setting sun bathed them in its warmth, it did nothing to thaw Maggie's icy heart.

She gazed vacantly into the distance, tears trailing down her face in silence.

Bart's eyes brimmed with redness.

"Maggie, they set me up. I'm going to confess."

He moved as if to drive away, but Maggie caught his arm, dabbing at her eyes.

“Why did you even come here?"

Head bowed, Bart suddenly smacked himself.

"I fell in with some rich folks recently. They knew you were Sanford's girlfriend and wanted in. They indulged me with food and drinks, and in my carelessness and vanity, I saw them as friends.

They suggested we hit up this club tonight, and boasted it was top- notch. I didn't suspect a thing and tagged along. But then..."

Bart's voice trailed off as his hands clenched.

"They must have spiked my drink with something psychedelic. I blacked out. When I came to, that woman was beside me!"

Maggie's spirits sank, a mix of sorrow and fury stirred by his comments.

It seemed likely that Janiya was behind the scheme, setting up the elites to ensnare Bart, waiting for him to slip up.

"Maggie, I'm truly sorry. Why don't you confide everything to Sanford?

He's got such influence. Surely, he could figure something out, couldn't he?"

Hope glistened in Bart's tear-filled eyes.

The mention of “Sanford” conjured up the image of the dashing man in Maggie's mind, and her tears fell again.