SIXTEEN
A s Poison went down in the elevator of her apartment building, nerves coiled in her chest like a live wire. She smoothed down the fabric of her sleek black dress, the soft material clinging to her curves in all the right places.
The dimly lit lobby of the building greeted her as she reached the ground floor, the soft glow of the overhead lights gleaming across the polished marble floors. It was a familiar sight, yet tonight, it seemed instilled with a sense of possibility, something new and exciting on the horizon.
As she stepped out into the cool night air, her pulse
quickened with every passing moment. She scanned the street, searching for any sign of Scorpion.
And then she saw him, leaning casually against the sleek lines of his motorcycle, with his hands in his pockets, a figure cloaked in darkness yet somehow illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights above. He looked every bit the dangerous, alluring man she’d come to know, his dark eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent heat pooling in her core.
She approached him with measured steps, her heart pounding in her chest as she drew closer to him. She couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her veins at the sight of him, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw her inexorably closer with each passing moment.
“Hey,” she said, as she reached his side, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange.
“Hey yourself, Little Viper,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly, the sound sending an electric shock down her spine.
There was something about the way he looked at her, something that made her feel vulnerable and empowered at the same time in his presence.
“Have you been to the Lotus Lounge?”
Her heart sank. She had heard of it, but it was Japanese territory, and she tended to stay clear of them. They were ruthless and petty and killed for sport. It was not that the Italians in her territory were any better, but she had an understanding with them, and they left her alone for it.
With a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, she met his gaze, the silent exchange between them crackling with tension.
“The Lotus Lounge,” she repeated, and he nodded. “I’ve heard of it.”
She knew the risks of venturing into Japanese territory, knew the danger. And yet, despite the warning bells ringing in her mind, a part of her couldn’t resist the lure of the unknown, the thrill of stepping into forbidden territory.
Looking into Scorpion’s eyes, she saw a reflection of her desire, a silent acknowledgment. And in that moment, she made a decision: she would follow him into the heart of darkness if it meant being in his presence.
With a flick of his wrist, Scorpion tossed her a helmet, the sleek black material gleaming in the dim street light. Poison caught it deftly, her fingers tingling at the touch of it against her skin as she secured it in place.
And then, without a word, he swung himself onto the motorcycle, offering her a hand as he gestured for her to join him. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, she accepted, settling herself behind him as they roared off into the night.
As they rode through the neon-lit streets, a tinge of unease crept into the pit of her stomach. Yet, despite the nagging voice of doubt that was getting louder in her mind, a part of her relished the danger and reveled in the
thrill of the unknown.
As she clung to Scorpion’s waist, her fingers digging into the fabric of his jacket, conflicting emotions wrestled within her. There was fear, yes, but a fierce exhilaration coursed through her like wildfire. As they raced through the city streets, she felt more alive than she had in years.
When they finally arrived at the Lotus Lounge, Poison’s heart pounded in her chest, her pulse quickening with each beat.
With a silent nod to Scorpion, she took a deep breath and dismounted from the motorcycle, her boots hitting the pavement with a soft thud.
Stepping through the doors, Poison was met with a wave of sensory overload. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices and aged whiskey, the soft murmur of conversation mingling with the smooth jazz music that filled the room. The intimate ambiance of the lounge enveloped her like a warm embrace, the soft glow of candlelight casting a seductive aura over the space.
She could feel the eyes of everyone on her, their gazes lingering on her like a tangible weight.
Scorpion led her through the dimly lit lounge, and the air crackled around them. They reached a secluded corner, and Scorpion gestured toward a cozy nook with plush couches and a low table.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? I’ll go and get us some drinks,” he said, pointing to the bar.
She nodded, sinking onto the soft cushions as she watched him disappear into the crowd.
Her mind raced with questions and doubts. She was sure that every person in the lounge was Japanese Mafia, and the fact that she wasn’t dead yet meant Scorpion had some pull with them.
But before she could dwell on them any further, she felt a presence beside her, a shadow looming over her like a dark omen.
Turning slowly, her eyes widened as she came face to face with Reaper, his whiskey eyes glinting with mischief as he looked at her with a predatory smile.
“Well, well, well,” he purred. “What do we have here? It’s been too long, Beautiful.”
Poison’s blood ran cold at the sound of his voice, her muscles tensing as she fought to keep her composure. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to flee from the danger that lurked in his gaze.
But Reaper wasn’t finished. He sat down next to her, leaning in close. Too close. He whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
“Now, now, no need to be afraid, Beautiful. I’m just here to catch up with an old friend.”
Her mind raced as she struggled to find a way out of the situation. Reaper’s words echoed in her ears, and she knew she was trapped, caught between the devil and a demon.
“If you even think about making a scene,” Reaper warned, his voice low and menacing, “the Japanese will end you right here, right now. And trust me, Beautiful, they won’t think twice about it. Especially if I tell them about your association with the Italians.”
A million tiny spiders ran down her spine at the thought of facing the wrath of the Japanese, her mind reeling with the implications of Reaper’s words.
“What the fuck do you want?” she hissed, restraining herself out of pure survival instinct.
“Come now, Minke…” He ran a cold finger over her cheek, and she recoiled.
“You have no right to call me that!” she spat, struggling to keep hysteria out of her voice as she sat face-to-face with her brother’s killer. “You lost that right the moment you betrayed Jonathan.”
Reaper leaned back in his seat. Crossing his legs, he draped his arm over the backrest.
“He had it coming!” Anger boiled in his eyes, his nostrils flaring, and it took everything she had not to flinch.
“You were his best friend!” she countered. “You two were practically like brothers since you were five.”
Reaper ran a hand over his face, composing himself as he plastered a sinister smirk on his lips.
“And yet Cain killed Abel. Shit happens.”
“You’d better leave,” she warned, looking back to the bar in search of Scorpion—needing him as a backup if things went to shit.
“Oh, don’t worry about your date,” Poison’s head snapped to him, watching his lazy smile as he picked at something on his sleeve. “I asked the bartender to keep him occupied for a moment.”
“What the fuck do you want, Rogan?”
Every ounce of fight, of fear, of every emotion left her body, leaving nothing but numbness and the voices screaming.
“I wanted to find out if you got my little present?” He shrugged.
“What present?” And Poison had a feeling she didn’t want to know.
“That monster who dared to touch you!” he growled, grabbing her chin, his thumb rubbing with a painful force over the cut on her lip.
Poison slapped his hand away and tried to get away from him as far as the couch allowed—careful not to cause a scene.
“What did you do?” Her voice broke.
“I protected your honor,” he growled. “I wouldn’t have had to do it if the Silver Serpents did what they were supposed to do!”
Her mind shattered.
No. Not her mind.
It was glass shattering. Poison looked up to see horror on Scorpion’s face—glass scattered at his feet covered in alcohol.
“You’re…” He shook his head, confusion mixing with shock in his eyes. “You belong to the Silver Serpents?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?” Reaper answered, rising to his feet. With a satisfied grin, he buttoned his jacket and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “She doesn’t just belong to them. She’s their leader.”
She watched in horror as Scorpion’s eyes went cold—shock and confusion replaced by an anger that shook her to her core.
Scorpion turned on his heel and ran for the door, and before she could think, she set chase after him, calling his name. But he didn’t look back or slow down. He just burst through the doors and bolted for his bike, roaring it to life, and sped into the night. Poison stood on the curb, watching his tail light disappear around the corner, and had no fucking idea what had just happened.
A low chuckle behind her made her turn to find Reaper watching her with that sickening smile on his lips.
“What the fuck did you do?” she demanded as she stormed toward him, pushing him back with palms to his chest.
Reaper put his hands in the air, smiling like a madman.
“Oh, Beautiful, I didn’t do anything.” She wanted to rip the smug smile off his face.
“Then what the fuck just happened?” she asked as if he’d have the answer, and to her horror, he did.
Smiling, Reaper crossed his arms, tapping a finger to his chin. “Oh, let me think,” The urge to rip him apart doubled. “You remember your little temper tantrum from about four years ago?”
As his words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud, she felt a chill creep through her veins. Memories she had long buried surged to the forefront of her mind, clawing their way back into her consciousness like relentless demons.
She knew exactly what he was referring to—a time when her obsession with avenging her brother’s murder consumed her like a raging inferno. It was a time marked by bloodshed and brutality, a descent into darkness from which she had feared she might never emerge.
Thoughts of Reaper had consumed every waking moment. She had hunted him relentlessly, her thirst for vengeance driving her to unspeakable acts of violence. Torture, murder—she had done it all in her quest to find him, to make him pay for his sins.
But despite her best efforts, Reaper had remained elusive, a shadowy figure lurking just beyond her reach. Each dead end, each failed attempt to track him down, had only fueled her rage, pushing her further into the abyss of her own making.
And then there were the challenges, the death matches she had embraced with a fervor bordering on madness. She had accepted them without hesitation, craving the adrenaline rush that came with the possibility of facing her brother’s killer in the ring.
But even that had proved futile, a cruel twist of fate that mocked her relentless pursuit of justice.
As Reaper stood before her now, his smirk twisting her insides with a sickening mixture of rage and despair, she felt the weight of her past sins bearing down on her like a leaden shroud. The darkness that had once consumed her threatened to engulf her once more, its tendrils reaching out to drag her back into the abyss.
“How do you know about that?” she demanded.
“You really thought I wouldn’t keep tabs on you after you swore you would kill me?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“What does it have to do with Scorpion?”
Poison couldn’t believe she stood in his presence and held up a conversation instead of killing him with her bare hands. She should, but the look in Scorpion’s eyes had her reeling—throwing all logic to the wind.
“Well, during that little temper tantrum of yours, Beautiful, you killed some of his friends,” He counted on his fingers. “Some of his crew members,” A second finger went up, “Oh, and here’s the kicker...” He held her stare for a moment, lifting a third finger. “You killed his brother.”
Reaper’s smug expression grated on Poison’s nerves, his enjoyment of her pain a bitter pill to swallow. Anger boiled within her as she struggled to comprehend his accusations.
Her mind raced, trying to make sense of his words.
She couldn’t fathom how she could be responsible for something so heinous. She couldn’t reconcile the idea of her being responsible for causing Scorpion the same pain as the man before her caused her.
“What?” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “I didn’t! I couldn’t have!”
Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to hold back the flood of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. The thought of causing Scorpion the pain and hate she felt twisted her heart painfully, making it difficult to breathe.
But Reaper’s laughter cut through her protests, his amusement a cruel mockery of her anguish. His words echoed in her mind.
“You see,” Reaper continued, his tone dripping with malice, “Scorpion is the leader of the Dune Demons, and his twin brother, Rex, or Double R, or whatever, died at your hands four years ago.”
The revelation hit her like a physical blow, the air rushing from her. She felt as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath her feet, leaving her teetering on the edge of a void.
And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, Reaper turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Poison alone with her thoughts and guilt—his parting smile adding fuel to the fire.
As she watched him disappear into the darkness, she felt a surge of rage mingling with her despair. She refused to believe Reaper’s words, refused to accept the notion that she could be responsible.
But deep down, a seed of doubt had been planted, a nagging fear that threatened to consume her from within.
And as she stood there, Poison couldn’t shake the feeling that her world was unraveling before her eyes.