A few days had crawled by since that morning, each one stretching longer than the last.
We were in hiding now, slipping through the slums like rats scurrying through the gutters, desperate to stay out of sight. Every alley, every shadow felt like a trap waiting to be sprung. The Angels were out there, watching, searching. It was frustrating—having to move like prey when I wanted to be the hunter—but for now, we had no choice. At least, not until today.
I had finally secured a meeting with the leader of the Spiders—the gang my father once ran with. Tough bastards, hardened by the streets, but they weren't the Angels.
That was probably why they were willing to listen, why they'd even consider throwing their lot in with us. They wanted a chance to change that, to rise up to the top. And I was more than happy to give it to them.
If today's meeting went the way I needed it to, and if I could drag the Link out of whatever hole he was hiding in, the first piece would be in place. A single crack in the Angels' foundation. One that, if widened enough, could bring the whole damn thing crumbling down.
And Victor? If he wasn't careful, if he underestimated me the way he had before, that crack would be the beginning of his end. Oh, I had plans for that bastard. Plans that would make him wish he never fucking crossed me.
The streets stretched ahead, damp with the remnants of last night's rain, the glow of streetlights flickering against the slick pavement. Hoods pulled low, we moved like whispers through the city, unnoticed—at least, that was the hope.
The Angels were still out there, prowling, waiting, but tonight wasn't about running. Tonight was about taking the first step toward tearing them down.
I stole a glance at the two at my side—Talia and Handy. Each had their own role to play in this meeting. Talia was here because we needed to show them our firepower, the raw potential of an awakened fighter.
Handy, on the other hand, carried a different kind of weight—his name alone meant something on these streets, a reputation forged in blood and grit. If the Spiders were hesitant, his presence might just be enough to tip the scales.
We reached the meeting spot, a hulking stone building that loomed over the street like a monument to old power. Bigger, more fortified than our last hideout. It was a clear message—they weren't like us, scrambling in the shadows. They had roots. And now, I needed to convince them to burn those roots into something new.
A pair of guards flanked the entrance, their eyes sharp, fingers twitching near their weapons. I met their gaze, let my hood fall just enough for them to see my face. Recognition flickered in their expressions, and after a tense beat, they stepped aside, pulling open the heavy doors.
My gut twisted, instincts flaring. Something felt off. But I ignored it.
Even if this meeting turned into a fight, I was ready. Because this was the beginning of the end. And I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers.
We stepped inside, moving with practiced ease—alert, but not tense enough to raise suspicion. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and lingering smoke, the kind that never fully faded from the walls of places like this.
"Are you the Vipers? Here to see the Boss?" A man near the entrance spoke, his voice rough, his eyes scanning us with the caution of someone who had seen too many bodies drop in rooms like these.
I gave him a single nod. No need for words.
He led us up a narrow stairwell, each step creaking beneath our weight. The climb wasn't long, but long enough to let the tension settle deep in my chest. By the time we reached the first floor, we stood before a door that was just a little too grand for a place like this—dark wood, polished brass handle, a statement of power wrapped in subtle arrogance.
The guide pushed it open, and inside, waiting like a spider at the center of her web, was the woman on whom everything depended.
Valerie—the Black Widow.
Leader of the Spiders, ruthless, cunning, dangerous in ways that went beyond the scars or the weapons hidden under the table. She was greed wrapped in silk, a woman who played with men like toys, twisting them into knots before tossing them aside. If I wasn't careful, I'd be one of them before I even knew I was caught.
She lounged in a chair that was just a little too close to being a throne, flanked by three men—muscle, enforcers, the kind who didn't need to speak to remind you they could break bones without breaking a sweat.
Dressed in black, a sleek dress that clung to her like shadow, Valerie tilted her head, studying us the way a cat studies a trapped mouse. She could be called beautiful—by the standards of a place like this, anyway.
I stepped forward, closing the distance between us with measured strides. Every movement deliberate. I gave her a slight nod—just enough to acknowledge her authority without bowing to it.
"Your reputation precedes you, Miss Valerie."
Then, silence. Let her make the next move.
A slow smile curled her lips, amusement flickering in her dark eyes. She gestured toward the chair across from her, the motion lazy, almost dismissive. "Oh, don't just stand there, sit."
Even her voice dripped with something dangerous—sultry, teasing, but sharp beneath the surface. A spider luring prey into her web.
What a crazy vixen. I couldn't wait to have her head on a spike.
But for now, I played along. Because despite the silk and smirks, Valerie was more than just cunning—she was cruel. Unnecessarily so. The kind of cruel that made even me wary.
She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the desk, eyes gleaming with interest. "So, Viper... why exactly do you want to meet with me?"
Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she already knew the answer and just wanted to hear me say it.
Valerie's smirk deepened, her fingers tapping idly against the polished surface of her desk. The way she studied me, it was like she was deciding whether I was a promising investment or just another cocky fool to be toyed with and discarded.
"You know, Valerie, let me get straight to the point," I said, leaning forward just slightly. "The Angels have been sitting on their throne for too long, don't you think?"
Her lips twitched, the amusement in her eyes sharpening. "Oh, I think many things, Viper. But go on."
I kept my voice even, my words deliberate. "The slums are changing. And I figured you'd want the Spiders leading that change—with the right allies, of course."
She exhaled through her nose, a quiet, amused sound, as if she found the idea laughable. "And you and your band of little snakes are supposed to be the right allies?"
"But of course it's us. Who else?" I didn't let her skepticism shake me. "Listen, I've got what others can't offer—like real awakened firepower, for example."
Valerie leaned back in her chair, the soft creak of leather filling the brief silence between us. Her nails tapped against the polished wood of her desk, slow and deliberate, her expression unreadable.
"You mean that little girl behind you?" she finally said, her gaze flicking toward Talia. I could almost feel Talia's frustration at being called that, but the stakes were high, so I had to properly remind her to keep her mouth shut before this meeting.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "I know you might not understand what that means," I said, letting just a hint of condescension slip into my tone, "but that little girl behind me could fold the little spiders you've surrounded yourself with before they could even blink."
Could Talia really do that? Probably not. But that wasn't the point. The point was making Valerie see value—perception was half the battle.
"Also, Valerie, what I have that you don't…" I let the words hang for a second before leaning in just slightly. "Is information. Names. Faces. When they go to take a shit, you name it. Friends in low places, you know?"
She let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. "From what I heard, your only friend around here is dirt—because you've been eating it ever since your thing with the Angels started. Oh, and how's the wound on your side, by the way?"
I kept my face blank, though I could feel Talia and Handy tense beside me. "You really can't judge a man based on what you hear, you know?" I said smoothly. "That might be a very dangerous mistake."
Her eyes narrowed slightly at my words, her amusement dimming into something colder. "Dangerous, you say?"
I didn't let her run with it. "Well, Valerie, at least let me tell you this—if you're not comfortable making a decision, I heard the Hounds were sniffing around recently. And they'd gladly shake a paw with me, if you catch my drift."
She scoffed, but there was an edge to it. "The Hounds? They're nothing but a group of strays. Just a band of scavengers. They don't have the brains or the hands to pull it off." Her voice was lower now, more dangerous.
"They might not be as formidable as you, but they're hungry," I countered. "And that hunger might be enough for me. But that's why I came to you first—because I'd much rather work with you than with the strays, as you say."
She studied me for a long moment, her fingers idly tracing patterns on her desk. Finally, there it was—the look of contemplation, the first crack in her indifference.
"But why should I care about your vendetta?" she asked, keeping her tone measured. "What's in it for me?"
I didn't hesitate. "You'll be on top, Valerie. No one to challenge you. The slums will be yours. I don't plan on taking that from you." I spread my hands, as if laying out the simplest deal in the world. "Listen, how about we run a little operation first? Together. See how things play out. If it works, we talk about a proper alliance. If it doesn't, we walk away—no hard feelings."
The ball was in her court now.
"Aren't you full of surprises, Viper. But we'll see if you can back that up."