The black sedan wound through the upscale district of New York City as evening shadows lengthened across the streets. I watched the scenery change from residential apartments to luxury establishments, each building more opulent than the last.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked the driver.
"Starry Night Clubhouse," she replied without turning around. "The president is waiting for you in the VIP section."
The president. That was new information. Maya had mentioned representing multiple organizations, but she hadn't claimed to be leading any of them.
The Starry Night Clubhouse turned out to be a massive complex of interconnected buildings with marble facades and gold trim. Valet attendants in crisp uniforms directed a steady stream of expensive cars through the circular drive.
My driver pulled up to a side entrance marked "Private Members Only." Two women in black evening gowns flanked the doorway like elegant sentries.
