Page 49 of Retaliation

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.

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