Page 102 of Brutal Unionn
My cup nearly slips from my fingers. “Where?” I ask, sharper than I mean to, the word cracking through the air like a shot.
“Patience, child,” Aoi chides, her voice a strange echo of my mother’s when I used to run ahead without looking. Firm, not angry—measured. “This isn’t the time for a reckless charge. We need precision. Planning. Control.”
I force myself to breathe through the adrenaline starting to build. “So what do you have in mind?”
“That depends,” Bhon says, his fingers tapping slowly against the table.
“On what?”
“On you.”
The way they look at me then—Bhon’s brow slightly furrowed, Aoi’s lips pressed into a fine line—it’s the look people wear before delivering something dangerous. Not impossible, just heavy. Like they’re more afraid of how I’ll react than what they’re about to suggest.
“Okay…” I say cautiously. “Can you stop staring at me like I’m about to explode and just tell me?”
Bhon reaches for a slim folder and lays it on the table. He opens it methodically, revealing two passports with unfamiliar names and our faces, a folded letter, and a small brass key.
“We can’t storm their compound, not without getting all of us killed. Even I’m not arrogant enough to try that. But there’s another way. The auction.”
I tense immediately.
“We get in through the auction,” he continues. “We let them think they’re in control. We use their own system to infiltrate, gather intel from the inside, and destroy them. Slowly. Quietly. The only way this works is if they don’t see us coming.”
His eyes meet mine squarely as he delivers the blow.
“We put Nadia up for bidding.”
“No.” The word erupts out of me before I even register the thought. My fist slams against the table, and tea sloshes over the edge of my cup, burning the back of my hand. I barely feel it.
Aoi slaps my arm—hard enough to sting, not hard enough to be disrespectful—but the glare she gives me is deadly serious. Her eyes flick up toward the bedroom. Toward Nadia. The silent message is clear:Don’t wake her. Don’t do this now.
Bhon holds his ground. “We wouldn’t be putting her in danger. Not the kind we can’t manage. She’s the best infiltrator we have. Hell, she got into your head, didn’t she?”
“Absolutely fucking not,” I snap, standing up now, blood pounding in my temples. “It’s too dangerous. Everythingabout this reeks. We find another way, any other way, I don’t give a damn how long it takes?—”
“I’ll do it.”
The voice is soft, barely louder than the rustle of breath, but it cuts through me like a blade. All three of us turn toward the hallway.
Nadia stands there in an oversized T-shirt, her bare legs pale in the moonlight pouring through the kitchen window. Her hair is tied back into a messy ponytail, loose strands framing her face, but her eyes—God, those eyes—are crystal clear and cold with resolve.
“I’ll do it,” she repeats, stepping into the room like she hasn’t just heard me threatening to rip the plan apart at the seams. She looks between Bhon, Aoi, and then me—unflinching, unapologetic. Beautiful. And completely, terrifyingly fearless.
“No,” I say, gathering myself before the storm inside me can spill any further. “This isn’t some gala event full of bored aristocrats bidding on overpriced art for charity. This is a den of monsters—depraved, sadistic masterminds of the underworld. They don’t just trade in flesh and fear, they thrive on it. They buy people like cattle. They use them, break them, discard them. They blackmail governments, bankroll civil wars, and bathe in the blood money they earn doing it. This isn’t a field trip, Nadia. You don’t get to smile, flirt, and charm your way to safety.”
She tilts her head, voice light and unbothered. “Am I not dangerous?” she asks with a chirp, the glint in her eyes daring me to say otherwise. “You’ve seen the scars on your body. You know I can handle myself.”
My composure cracks. I step forward, my voice hardening, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. “No,” I snap, grabbing her arm before I can stop myself. She winces—only slightly—but I can tell I’ve gripped too close to the shoulder I dislocated days earlier. My hand trembles as I loosen my hold but I refuse to let go.
“It’s not about the danger. It’s not even about you,” I hiss, my voice now a low growl from somewhere deep in my chest. “It’s about the boys and girls who stand on that stage, dressed up like prizes, and sold to some inbred lizard of a man for a price that's both too high to comprehend and too low for a human soul. They vanish. Just like that. No goodbyes, no bodies, no clues. Their friends never find them. Their families get silence. They're erased from existence. Forgotten. And for what? For power. For perversion. For profit.”
My fists curl so tight my nails bite into my palms. I can feel the heat radiating from my skin, purple-red fury rising in my veins like smoke. My heart hammers against my ribs, not from fear—but from the violent urge to burn every last pillar of the empire that makes that kind of cruelty possible.
“One,” Nadia says coolly, her voice steely despite the pain on her face, “let go of my arm.”
I obey, jaw flexing as I gently place her wrist back at her side. She rotates the shoulder slowly, never breaking eye contact.
“And two,” she continues, stepping in close, “why the fuck does it matter how disgusting these people are? That’s exactly why we have to do this. You’re trying to take them down, right? Destroy their empire? Then stop acting like a martyr and act like a soldier. If Bhon says this is our way in—our only way—then we take it. We don’t have time to wait for a cleaner option. Mia is in that hellhole right now. Every second we stall,more girls like her disappear. More lives are ruined. The longer we wait, the more untouchable they become.”
