Charles mmed his palms on the gleaming marble table so hard that everyone in the room flinched.


    He fixed Alex with a scornful re, lips twisted into a sneer that practically reeked of condescensión.


    "Cut the crap!" he thundered, his tone rolling through the air like distant thunder.


    "Don''t you darepare your lowly peasant life to mine. Seriously, take a good look at yourself in the mirror-if you can stand the sight."


    Alex leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms with the kind of ease that onlyes fromplete self-confidence.


    "You always this full of hot air, Charles? If you''re too much of a coward to ept my challenge, just get on your knees, admit you''re a spineless poser, and apologize with one of your arms. Maybe I''ll find it in my heart to forgive your sorry behind."


    Charles''s face went red as a brick, anger roaring inside him.


    "You" he sputtered, seething so hard he could barely spit the words out.


    For a moment, he seemed torn.


    As the wealthy heir to the Kingston fortune, there was no upside to risking his life against some "filthy nobody."


    But he sure as hell couldn''t back down without losing everyst shred of dignity.


    Just then, Mr. Fleming-an older man wearing gold-rimmed sses that screamed ''professionalb rat''- stepped in, voice calm but firm.


    "Rest assured, Mr. Kingston. My skill in concocting bacterial cultures is unmatched in Vancouver. Whatever vile brew this peon produces, I can promise it won''t harm you.


    Charles narrowed his eyes. "You''re that confident?"


    Mr. Fleming puffed out his chest, pride oozing from every pore. "I''ve spent years perfecting my craft. No one in this city can match my form."


    Charles let a harshugh tear from his throat.


    "Perfect. Sounds like we have ourselves a deal. Alex, if it''s my life you want on the table, then it''s all in! But I''ll make damn sure you regret ever crossing me."


    At one corner stood Jasmine-watching with wide, worried eyes-and at another corner, Jessica, sporting a half- smirk, clearly entertained by the idea that Alex might end up permanently out of her hair if he lost.


    Within minutes, Alex and Mr. Fleming had each dispatched their subordinates to gather supplies: strange powders, murky liquids, and containers that looked like something out of a twisted horror film.


    Jasmine edged closer to Alex, her voice a hushed whisper.


    "Are you absolutely sure about this? These things are dangerous and you know Charles would love thing more than to see you brought to your knees."


    Alex shed a devil-may-care grin. "Don''t sweat it. Trust me, I''ve had nightmares scarier than anything these clowns can cook up.""


    Charles, hovering nearby, jeered loudly, "Less talk, more mixing, jerk! Unless you''re ready to run off like a little pup with your tail between your legs."


    Alex rolled his eyes. "Keep your shirt on, Charles. Wouldn''t want you passing out from all that self-righteous rage before we begin.“.


    Mr. Fleming was already moving his hands in a blur, mixing this chemical with that, swirling the beaker so fast that onlookers felt their heads spin.


    The results soon filled a small vial with a thick, pitch-ck liquid that reeked like decaying meat.


    When it hit the table with a dull thud, it seemed to suck the light out of the air.


    Charles smirked and shoved the vial toward Alex with a triumphant sneer. "Here you go, jerk. Care to prove you''re not just all bark?"


    Jasmine went pale at the sight. "Alex, don''t do this," she whispered urgently. "It''s obviously dangerous-deadly poison. There''s no way anyone who drinks that is going toe out alive."


    But Alex, never one to shy away from theatrics, snatched the vial and tipped it back in a single gulp.


    The liquid slid down his throat, and the entire room seemed to freeze in ce.


    Charles''s smug grin faltered, confusion spreading across his features like a storm cloud.


    “Well?” Jasmine blurted. "How-how do you feel?”


    With a shrug, Alex clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Bitter aftertaste. Kinda like cheap coffee gone stale. But I''ve had worse."


    Charles barked out augh to hide the tremor of unease creeping down his spine.


    "Stop acting tough, you arrogant piece of trash. If you''re moments from dropping dead, we''ll be sure to bury you with the rest of the gutter scum."


    Mr. Fleming adjusted his sses, studying Alex closely. "You''re telling me you don''t feel any pain? Any burning in your stomach? Numbness in your limbs?"


    “Please,” Alex said, rolling his eyes again. “Your ‘deadly'' concoction is child''s y. I''d almost think you tossed in some vitamins, it''s so tame. Is this your big, fearsome Bacillus anthracis brew? Because I''ll be real with you: if that''s anthrax, youpletely botched the form."


    Fleming''s jaw ckened. "How-how did you know it was Bacillus anthracis? You must have peeked at me while I was mixing-there''s no other exnation!"


    Charles mmed his fists on the table again, rattling tes and sses. "You sneaky bastard! If you cheated, I swear I''ll-"


    "Cheated?" Alex''sugh was low and mocking.


    "I didn''t need to. Anyone who actually understands lethal bacteria can spot the mistakes in your process from a mile away. Next time you want to kill somebody, try not to screw up the recipe."


    Charles''s fury was at a fever pitch. "You watch your mouth, you worthless cockroach! Mr. Fleming the most talented bacteriologist in this entire city-no, the entire country!"


    15


    "Well,” Alex shot back, "either you hired a hack or he''s past his prime, because that sludge did nothing but leave


    a bad taste in my mouth. Don''t you think it''s time you gave