Page 36 of Retaliation

She had made it to the launch venue just in time. The warehouse droned with activity as technicians scurried about, finishing up the setup. Strobes of neon light flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows against the cold concrete walls.

As she stepped into the bustling warehouse, she immediately took charge, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of something out of place. With swift, purposeful movements, she moved from station to station, checking that each computer terminal was up and running, the software loaded and functioning flawlessly.

She paused occasionally to confer with the technicians as they put the finishing touches on their setups. And Melissa stayed well clear of her path.

She watched the stage, where the audiovisual equipment was being tested and calibrated. She listened intently as the technicians fine-tuned the system, ensuring that every beat and every note would resonate throughout the warehouse with crystal clarity.

As the minutes ticked by, her pace quickened, her movements becoming more frenetic as she checked and double-checked every detail. She adjusted the lighting, making subtle tweaks to create the perfect ambiance for the event. She inspected the seating arrangements, ensuring every guest had a clear view of the stage.

With a satisfied nod, she surveyed her handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within her. Everything was in place, every detail meticulously attended to. Now, all that remained was to wait for the guests to arrive and witness the culmination of her hard work and dedication.

As she stepped outside for a smoke, she felt a surge

of excitement coursing through her veins. Last night was forgotten and tonight was more than just a product launch; it was her way of forever capturing her brother’s memory.

At seven that evening, she navigated through the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the rows of computer terminals that lined the room. Each station was a hive of activity, with gamers eagerly testing outShadow Strike, their faces illuminated by the glow of the screens.

In search of her boss, she made her way up the stairs to the VIP lounge. There, she found him talking to the same group of investors as the pre-launch with a drink in hand. Security guarded the perimeter of the loft, and she scanned each of their faces in search of Scorpion.

He said he’d be working tonight, but she hadn’t seen him among the crowds yet. A bit disappointed, she walked over to her boss.

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” she nodded to his company. “But it is time for your announcement.”

“Oh. Yesh. Rright. Chertainly,” Topaz stammered, his tongue dragging.

The fucker was already drunk. Rage coursed through her. It was the biggest night of his miserable career, and the fucker was drunk. He was in the company of people who invested millions into this product, and he

was about to fuck it all up. She wouldn’t allow that to happen to her brother’s memory.

Inhaling a deep breath, she swallowed the venom in her throat before addressing him.

“No worries, sir. Continue your conversation with our generous investors,” She tried to give them a pleasant smile. “I’ll handle the announcement.”

To her utter horror, Topaz saluted her, spilling half his drink over his face. “Yesh, ma’am,” he mumbled, laughing.

Turning on her heel before she did something she would regret, she walked to the stairs. She stepped aside at the landing, allowing a party to pass her onto the platform.

A bodyguard, followed by a man in a very expensive-looking suit stopped and turned to her. The same man who had questioned her competency at the pre-launch and she bit back a sneer.

“Damian, wait,” he said to the guard and turned to her. “Miss Sloan, a pleasure.” The almond-eye man bent low at the waist, greeting her.

But no words came. Her throat tightened as she simply stared at the two men flanking the well-dressed stranger. Scorpion and Gunnar. Well, fuck.

Recognition struck her with the force of a brutal punch, knocking the air from her lungs. Scorpion wasn’t just a security guard. He was a personal bodyguard for someone important—someone wealthy, powerful, and currently bowing to her like she was the one in control.

Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of the situation. She shook her head slightly, hoping to clear the haze that had settled over her thoughts, but it was no use. The pieces were falling into place too quickly, and she couldn’t keep up.

“Enjoy your evening, sir,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, the words tasting strange in her mouth. She needed to get out of there, to escape the tension curling in her gut. Without meeting Scorpion’s eyes, she attempted to push past him and Gunnar, her movements hurried and clumsy.

But the questions swirled in her mind, refusing to be ignored. Why hadn’t he told her? The realization gnawed at her, a raw edge of betrayal she hadn’t anticipated. Was this man, the one who had just bowed to her, the boss Scorpion had mentioned in passing? The one he had spoken about with a tone she now realized was laced with more than just professionalism?

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had just shifted between them, something she wasn’t ready to confront. The ease, the trust they’d shared—it all felt tainted now, muddied by secrets she hadn’t known existed. Why had he kept this from her? What else was he hiding? The questions spiraled, each one more unsettling than the last, leaving her with an ache she couldn’t quite name.

When she glanced back at the older man, she noticed the subtle grace in his movements, the slight stoop of his shoulders hinting at a lifetime of wisdom and experience. His face bore the gentle lines of a well-lived life, each crease telling a story. His eyes, dark and penetrating, held a quiet strength and wisdom that spoke volumes without uttering a word. And as he moved through the crowd of VIPs with calm dignity, an air of authority and respect seemed to follow in his wake, commanding attention.

She tried to focus on the announcement, forcing herself to push Scorpion from her mind as she prepared to address the crowd. But it was impossible. Before she could gather her thoughts, he was there, his grip firm as he pulled her close. The warmth of his body against hers, the intensity in his gaze, made it impossible to ignore him.

“Good evening, Little Viper,” he murmured, his voice smooth, but she didn’t miss the edge in it. When she finally turned to face him, the playful glint in his eyes had darkened, replaced by something far more dangerous—an anger that simmered just beneath the surface, ready to explode.

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