?Chapter 1553:


    Raegan fixed her gaze on therge screen, lips curling into a cold, mocking smile. “Maia, you really are lucky,” she murmured. “But I’ll be the one to tear apart your illusions. The leader never loved you—not even for a moment.”


    She adjusted her cor and turned toward the elevator. Her heels struck the metal floor in sharp, deliberate clicks that echoed down the corridor as she walked away.


    Maia stepped through the doorway into Nightshade’s foyer. The room was small, dim, and carried the lingering scent of liquor and old timber—notrge enough to hold many people. But then, as an underground bar, its real business was obviously conducted below.


    Maia approached the counter and settled onto a free stool. She looked up at the bartender—a burly man with slicked-back hair and a tight ck vest that left his biceps on full disy. If he hadn’t been skillfully polishing a ss, he could easily have been mistaken for a bouncer or an off-duty bodybuilder.


    “New face. Rare around here,” he said, stepping closer with a raised eyebrow and an easy smile. “But I know who you are. Maia Watson. Wront’s very own hometown hero.” His voice carried a light, teasing lilt with no real edge behind it. “Your first drink’s on the house. What’ll it be?”


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    He slid a menu across the counter, filled with colorful names she couldn’t make sense of. Maia nced at it without taking it. “How about you choose for me? Something that shows off your skill.”


    He chuckled. “What I’m good at is all strong stuff.” A teasing gleam shed in his eyes. “It’s for heartbreak or bad moods—one ss and your worries dissolve. You sure?”


    A slight smile curved Maia’s lips. “Perfect. That suits me just fine right now,” she said, though her eyes stayed clear. “I hope it’s as strong as you say.”


    “One moment.” The bartender immediately began his performance. Maia had to admit his skill was impressive—the cocktail shaker danced in his hands, ice and ss ttering in a sharp, rhythmic beat. As she watched, she asked casually, “How long has this ce been here?”


    Without hesitation, he answered as he poured. “About fifty years. The owner’s changed a few times, but I’m just a bartender—I don’t know the details.” He poured the well-mixed liquid into a ss over arge ice sphere. The amber drink refracted the light, glowing with a strange allure.


    “Since you’re new, I’ll give you three pieces of advice.” The bartender held up three fingers, his expression turning serious. “First, you can’t go downstairs without a referral. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t find the entrance. Second, it’s absolutely safe here—even if you drink yourself senseless, we’ll take care of you. Might even send you to the hospital, but you’ll cover the bill, so don’t overdo it. Third, don’t drive after drinking. What happens once you leave is not our responsibility.”


    Maia took the ss he offered. A smoky, fruity fragrance drifted up. She took a small sip.


    An instantter, a fiery sensation exploded in her throat as though she had swallowed a lit match. Strong indeed—but the aftertaste held a trace of sweetness.


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