Page 5 of Retaliation

Poison’s smirk widened. “Well, twinkle, twinkle, little bitch.”

Melissa’s façade cracked, her smile giving way to a flash of fury. Without a word, she lunged, hand raised to strike. But Poison, anticipating the move like the seasoned fighter she was, caught Melissa’s wrist mid-air. In one fluid motion, she twisted her arm behind her back, immobilizing her.

“Really, Melissa? Violence?” she whispered, dangerously close to Melissa’s ear, her grip tightening. “I thought you preferred battles of wit. But then again, you’d be unarmed in that fight as well, wouldn’t you? Let’s not ruin your perfect manicure. We both know how much you hate breaking a nail.”

Her words dripped with sarcasm as she held Melissa just tight enough to prove her point.

Poison’s eyes lifted, when she realized the crowd around them had gone silent. Their confrontation had drawn an audience, a fact that only registered when she caught sight of Melissa’s long-term boyfriend, Blake, standing at the forefront, his face twisted in disgust.

“Hey! Back off, you psycho!” he barked, his voice slicing through the tension, though he didn’t dare take a

step forward.

His voice carried a false bravery that his eyes—wide with fear—couldn’t match. Poison’s gaze hardened at the insult, her eyes narrowing. But before she could respond, a voice rang out like thunder:

“Leave her alone!”

Every eye turned to the source—a dark figure, a security guard, charging through the crowd with fierce determination. Chaos erupted as he landed a solid punch to Blake’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground with a force that echoed off the glass walls.

Poison, momentarily stunned, scrambled to regain her composure. She realized she still had Melissa’s arm twisted behind her back and, listening to a flicker of reason, released her. With a quick shove—more reflex than intention—she sent Melissa stumbling backward into the fountain with a splash that drowned out the escalating conflict.

Other security guards rushed in, trying to pull the guard off Blake. Four against one. That wasn’t exactly fair.

Turning her attention back to the fight, Poison moved with fluidity. She darted forward, grabbing the first guard off her ally’s back and using her momentum to slam him into the ground with a loud thud. The crowd, now a mix of cheers and gasps, formed a circle around the spectacle, cellphone cameras capturing every second.

Blake, scrambling to his feet in a daze, swung a wild punch at her. She was ready, her body coiled like a viper.

Using her ally’s back for leverage, she launched a powerful roundhouse kick, the bridge of her foot connecting with the side of Blake’s head, just behind his left ear. The impact sent him tumbling once again.

For a moment, the world slowed as she and the guard stood back to back, facing their attackers. A fist flew toward her, aimed true, but the guard dipped her low in a swift, graceful arc, her body hovering inches from the ground. Their movements were instinctive, as if they’d fought together for years.

Another attacker charged, only to be met with her ally’s solid arm, clotheslining him across the chest and sending him sprawling.

The last security guard made a desperate move, rushing at them from the side. With synchronized steps forward, Poison and her ally let him pass, his momentum carrying him headfirst into a pillar. The thud of his collapse was the final note in the cacophony of the fight. As he crumpled to the ground, the area around them cleared, an unmistakable mix of fear and respect emanating from the onlookers.

As the dust settled and the crowd’s excitement dimmed to murmurs of awe, Poison, and the dark figure stood alone, backs to each other in a clearing of bodies. She glanced over her shoulder, noting the small cut on his lower lip and the fire still burning in his eyes. He wiped the blood away casually with the back of his hand, standing tall and unfazed. Together, they turned to face

the crowd, a silent challenge hanging between them.

“Anyone else wants a piece of us?” the figure growled, his voice echoing with warning. The silence that followed was answer enough.

“I thought so,” he snorted, dismissing them as the tension broke and no one dared to step forward.

With a final glance at Blake, still nursing his wounded pride on the ground, the figure turned to her.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, the adrenaline fading as the moment began to settle.

The security guard gently grasped her arm, guiding her through the building and away from the chaos. They moved through the now docile crowd, leaving behind the event’s noise and Melissa’s resentful shrieks from the fountain.

The night air felt cooler as they stepped onto the street. Releasing her arm, the guard turned to face her, and for the first time, she really looked at him.

The streetlight illuminated his features, revealing a handsomeness she hadn’t noticed in the heat of the moment. His intense, curious gaze held hers.

Even under the streetlight’s glow, his eyes remained strikingly dark, mirroring the starless sky above. A ghost of the devilish passion she’d seen earlier still flickered in those black, bottomless depths, yet there was something more—a flicker of recognition. An unsettling familiarity tugged at the edges of her memory, hovering just out of reach.

She pushed the thought away, taking in every detail. Her eyes traced from his raven-dark gaze down to a sculpted nose and full lips. His chiseled jawline framed a slightly dimpled chin covered in shadowy stubble. Beneath that sharp jaw, tattoos peeked out from his collar and black tie. For a moment, she marveled at his black suit—still intact after the fight—and his white dress shirt, spotlessly clean, the fabric pulled tight over his lean, muscled chest.

“Want to take a walk?” he asked, his deep, gravelly voice sending shivers down her spine. Each word carried a blend of raw power and dark allure.

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