Page 136 of Fatality

But they've lived.

Every cracked wall, every patched window, every flickering neon sign has survived more than most people ever will.

The Lower Layers aren't beautiful. They're stubborn. And that's a hell of a lot more honest.

An hour later, I pull into Varek's garage and kill the engine.

The moment I step out, I find everyone already gathered, waiting for me.

One of them breaks away from the group and approaches.

“So?” he asks.

“So what?” I lean back against the hood.

“Did you come back empty-handed?” another calls out.

“Guess.” I let out a dry scoff and cross my arms.

A few smirks falter.

“You really think I'd come all the way back here empty-handed?” I let the question hang before a crooked smile tugs at my lips. “Do you really want to insult me like that?”

Silence.

“I don't fail.” I jerk my thumb toward the trunk. “Go get your fucking prize.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw.

One of them pops the trunk open, revealing Riven to the rest of the gang.

A wave of murmurs ripples through the garage as they crowd closer, eager to get a better look at her.

They're probably wondering how the fuck I managed to get her here.

More importantly, they're probably wondering what I'm going to do to the woman who wrecked my Charger and dared to put my reputation as a leader on the line.

I walk over to the private fridge beside my bay, pull out a Nitro, crack it open, and take a long sip.

That bitch is in my territory now.

She'll learn the hard way.

She'll either obey or she'll stay here for as long as it takes—And for both our sakes, she better choose the first option.

“Fuck,” A man says “That’s full and soft.”

“Yeah,” another rasps. “I wonder how it tastes.”

Every muscles locks in my body.

Taste what? What the fuck is soft and full?

I slowly, very slowly turn my head toward the trunk, and see one of my men leaned inside, the other having his arm moving like he is kneading something.

It takes me a few seconds before the realization hits me like a wall during a race.

My blood runs cold, then boils with a white-hot rage threatening to consume me.