The heavy bass of the music pulsed through the club as Dressa stepped inside, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd.
She was used to places like this. Dimly lit, filled with people who thought they were important, all trying to prove something. She had no patience for that.
With a breath of confidence, she strode through the mass of bodies, effortlessly maneuvering past drunken dancers and groups of men who looked at her a little too long.
She wasn't here to party.
Dressed in a fitted black leather jacket, cropped just above her waist, Dressa exuded an effortless cool. Underneath, a deep red top clung to her form, complimenting her toned physique.
Paired with high waisted jeans that hugged her hips and sleek black boots that clicked against the floor, she looked every bit the runner she was— untouchable, fearless and always ready to take to the tracks.
