Treatment 190_Badass in Disguise

Chapter 190 

 mes still danced in the distance as morning broke over Crimson Valley. The destruction of five auction houses had sent the Scorpio family into a frenzy, like disturbing a nest of hos. From my vantage point on a nearby rooftop, I could see armed men patrolling the streets, stopping anyone who looked remotely American.

 From my position, I could see into an open window of the headquarters building. A man with salt–and–pepper hair was pacing furiously, his face contorted with rage as he shouted at someone out of view. Even from this distance, his fury was palpable.

 “Burn them all!” he roared, mming his fist against a wall. “Find these American dogs and bring them to me! I want them alive so I can skin them myself!” 

 I adjusted my scope slightly, focusing on the person receiving this tirade. It was the man from the auction house- Loki. He stood perfectly still, his face a nk mask as the older man–Marcus, I presumed–continued his rant.

 “You worthless mongrel!” Marcus spat. “You were there and you did nothing! You saw them and you let them walk right in!” He grabbed a crystal tumbler from his desk and hurled it at Loki, who didn’t even flinch as it shattered against the wall beside his head.

 “The Scorpio family doesn’t tolerate failure,” Marcus continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Get out of my sight. Find them, or don’te back at all.”

 Loki gave a slight nod before turning and walking out of the room. His face remained expressionless, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

 I packed up my surveince gear. It was time to pay Loki a visit.

 Finding his apartment was simple enough. As part of the Scorpio family, he lived in one of the better districts of Crimson Valley, though his amodations were modestpared to what I’d seen of Marcus’s lifestyle. The building had minimal security–a single guard who was more interested in his phone than his surroundings.

 I waited inside Loki’s apartment, seated at his coffee table, methodically cleaning my tactical knife. The apartment was sparsely furnished, almost impersonal. No photographs, no personal mementos. Just the necessities and a few expensive bottles of liquor.

 When the door finally opened, I stayed perfectly still. Loki stepped inside, closing the door behind him before reaching for the light switch. As his hand moved, I flicked my wrist, sending my knife sailing through the air. It embedded itself in the wall, centimeters from his fingers.

 “Shit!” He jerked his hand back, immediately dropping into a defensive stance. His eyes found me in the shadows, recognition dawning on his face. “Well, well. The American girl from the auction.”

 “Not just any American girl,” I replied, my voice cold. “The one who burned down your boss’s little enterprise.” 

 8:20 Thu, Sep 25 

 :

 Loki’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. “I gathered as much.” He straightened, seeming unconcerned by my presence. “I assume you’re here to kill me?”

 “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it through the door.”

 He nodded, epting this logic. “May I?” He gestured toward the kitchen.

 “Go ahead.”

 Loki walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer. He offered me one, which I declined with a slight shake of my head. He popped the cap and took a long swig before leaning against the counter.

 “Your boss seemed pretty upset,” I remarked. “Mongrel, worthless, failure… he reallyid into you back there.”

 A sh of something—anger, perhaps–crossed Loki’s face before disappearing behind his mask of indifference. “Marcus has a colorful vocabry when he’s angry.”

 And yet you seem to be taking it rather well.” 

 “What choice do I have?” He shrugged.

 I stood, retrieving my knife from the wall. “You’re not out looking for me like he ordered.”

 ‘No, I’m not.”

 “Why?” 

 “Because I’m not his dog tomand.” Loki took another sip of beer. “So, I assume you didn’t break into my apartment just to discuss my family dynamics. What do you want?”

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Treatment 190