Page 56 of Fatality

Usually, every woman who sees me either cowers... or throws herself at me, begging me to fuck her because of my reputation.

The security system scans my car, and the garage doors slide open before I even reach them.

I pull my Charger inside and park.

Every head turns toward me, everyone stopping what they're doing, arms crossing as they wait for an explanation.

I step out, slam the door shut, and lean against the hood.

I catch Neo, Ren, and Varek staring at my nose and the dried blood with obvious confusion.

The others start noticing it too.

I lean back until I'm practically lying across the hood, my arms folded behind my head.

My mind is miles away.

I lost the weekly race, again.

Some of them are probably questioning my leadership already.

I'll remind them. But for now... That girl.

She wasn't afraid of me.

No.

She fought back because she didn't know who I was. That's different.

My blood boils beneath my skin at the memory of her looking at me like I wasn't one of the most dangerous men in the Lower Layers.

I can feel my eyes glowing brighter—a reminder that whenever I feel something too strongly, everyone can see it.

“Yo, what the hell, Evren?” Neo finally cuts through the silence. “What happened during the race?”

“Why do you have blood all over your face?” Ren adds. “Did you crash your car? Get into a fight?”

“No. I didn't crash my car.” I gesture toward the Charger. “Open your fucking eyes. She's perfectly fine.”

“So, what the fuck happened?” Neo asks. “You look like someone actually punched you.”

My eyes flash with anger, my hands curling into fists.

I need to calm down, I can't fucking hit my best friend.

I force myself to breathe out, but it does nothing to settle the urge.

“I bet you're all wondering why the hell I gave up the race.” I pause. “Well... I found something more interesting.”

One of the rookies steps forward.

“Found something?” he snorts. “How can you lose the weekly race? Two in a row. We need the money. And you call yourself the leader—”

I move fast.

My adrenal booster floods my system, I drive my knee straight into the rookie's stomach. He folds instantly, dropping to the ground, gasping for air.

“Does anyone else have something to say?” I wait, I already know nobody's going to answer. “I make the decisions. I found something far more interesting than the weekly race, so I took it.”