April 15, 2021. 03:30. Vancouver.
Blake greets us with open arms—or, more accurately, a mechanical facsimile of them. His booming laughter fills the room as we step inside, his towering cybernetic frame shifting as he gently moves his harem aside.
The low rasp of his voice, distorted by augmented vocal cords, scrapes against my ears all over again.
"Welcome back, my wonderful mercs!" Blake calls out, grinning from his sofa. "Consider me a very happy man. You brought back my boys and got rid of some Melders too. Well done."
Mister drops into a chair across from him, and we follow suit. "Of course. We've delivered as promised. Your men are safe, and the railgun has been handed to my client."
"Perfect. Then I assume this little business is over. The weapon was more trouble than it's worth anyway."
My eyes widen. I wasn't expecting Blake to give up the railgun so easily. Curiosity tugs at me, but I hold my tongue. I can ask later—if the timing's right.
"Correct. And now, we can move on to the bar opportunity in Burnaby." Mister pulls out his phone, eager to show Blake the details.
Blake waves a massive hand, stopping him cold. "Not yet." His crimson eyes lock onto me. "We'll get to that. But first… let's talk about you."
I tense instinctively. "What about me?"
Blake chuckles—a metallic rasp that crawls down my spine. "Don't play dumb. I know what happened at AXIS' place. My men confirmed it."
The team looks my way, curiosity flickering in their eyes. Only Remi nods in approval. He doesn't need to say a word—I already know it'd be something like, "Good. Fuck AXIS."
My stomach tightens, but I keep my expression steady. "And?"
"And…" Blake taps the table beside him. The wood creaks under the weight of his finger. His smile widens; his eyes never blink. "I'm impressed. Didn't think anyone had the balls to break into that pompous idiot's apartment, let alone steal his Porsche."
I sigh. Of course he'd bring that up. I'm caught red-handed, and I've only got my greed and lack of foresight to blame.
Shock suppresses a giggle, her cheeks flushing as she fans herself. "He's so cool…"
I raise a brow. Is she seriously swooning over the mechanical fuckboy right now? Her giddiness doesn't ease the tension—if anything, it makes the moment more surreal.
"Shiiiit, choom, why didn't you tell me you robbed AXIS too?" Remi elbows me, clearly impressed.
I swat his arm away. I'm not looking to pick another fight with these psychos anytime soon.
"Remi. Shut up."
Blake roars with laughter. "Relax, I'm not mad. Honest to God, I couldn't stand the guy anyway. Always thought he was a pretentious prick. But we needed him for the clout. Now that he's out of the picture…"
He turns to Remi, eyes gleaming. "You looking for work, rockstar?"
Remi doesn't hesitate; he flashes a cocky grin. "Shiii, boss man. What's the deets? Am I replacing AXIS?"
"More or less." He shrugs. "We need a new artist—someone to be the public face of our entertainment branch. AXIS had potential until he turned into a piece of shit. By then he was our only option."
Blake smirks at me, then turns back to Remi. "And let's just say someone flatlined the previous one. Spot's open again."
"Say less, choom."
"You'll get the same resources AXIS had. I listened to your tracks—promising. I appreciate good rock and rap."
"Bet. Got an R&B and pop album cooking too."
"We'll sign you immediately."
"Cool. And I promise not to be a leadhead."
"Good." Blake's gaze slides back to me; his tone goes almost teasing. "As for you… you damaged Dead Kings' property, injured some of my men, and you stole something we'd given to AXIS. We could pin the whole thing on someone else—I'm feeling merciful tonight. Besides, I like a woman of your calibre."
I hesitate. "You're serious?"
"Of course. I won't beat around the bush—the man was a piece of shit, a walking PR nightmare. You did the community a service. We can even say Remi pointed an impulsive finger to rile my boys up. Honestly, no one can prove you killed him. It's only when you line up the facts—my men, the timing, and your skill—that it starts to make sense. But outside of that? You're a ghost. No evidence, nothing left behind. Realistically, you'd only end up on a suspect list."
"Fair enough. I appreciate that." I relax a fraction. "I'm gonna guess you want me to pay it back."
"Doesn't have to be eddies. Could be favours."
"What kind of favours?"
"Whatever I need you to do."
I lift an eyebrow and glance from his women to Shock. "Nothing romantic or sexual—that's off limits."
Blake explodes with laughter, loud and surprising. The sound is a coarse grind of gears through a radio box—a noise that hits the marrow of my hearing.
"A shame, but not what I meant. I'll put you on a few enforcement jobs. A solo like you is rare; I'm surprised I've never heard of you until now."
A small, private relief blooms in me. Good—he doesn't know the whole story.
Shock looks like she's about to strangle me for outing her interest, but she reins herself in. Lips pursed, she shoots me a glare, a faint blush still colouring her face.
I bite my lip in thought. "Alright, so it's either money or working for you."
"Basically. But I'm guessing you stole the Porsche because you couldn't afford to buy one the proper way."
I pause, then sigh. "Damn." Technically I could've bought it, but it would've taken several contracts to earn the money back—and honestly, that's too much effort. I shrug, raising my hands in feigned defeat, a gesture I've gotten way too good at. "How about this: I pay for the damage to your men and half the Porsche. I'll work off the rest."
"Alright, pass me your contact info. I'll send you the bill—I've already done the math."
I narrow my eyes, half-tempted to argue for another repayment method, but give up.
The last thing I want is a gang leader having my contact info, yet… I'm too damn tired to care.
Fine. I'll pay what I can and work off the rest.
Maybe I'll find a balance between not being too deep in the Dead Kings' debt and not bleeding my account dry.
I pull out my black phone and let Blake link to it. My stomach churns the instant the bill flashes on-screen. If I were a cartoon, my eyes would've popped out.
WHAT—€$80,000!? There is no way.
My inner cheapskate screams. I grumble under my breath as my banking app lights up in bright red, my balance nosediving. Without another word, I transfer the credits.
"Pleasure doing business with you." Blake leans back into his plush leather sofa, grin widening. "But there's one last thing for tonight…"
His tone makes my gut tighten. I cross my arms, eyes narrowing. "What?"
"Ever heard of the Gauntlet?" Blake's gaze sweeps the room, scanning for a hint of recognition. His voice sounds casual, but there's a quiet challenge buried underneath.
No one answers. Mister tilts his head. Azure scowls. Tetra shakes his slightly. I glance at Remi—he just shrugs.
Shock finally breaks the silence, her voice edged with curiosity. "Is that some sort of game?"
Blake chuckles. "No, not just a game. It's a rite of passage in the Dead Kings. Anyone who completes it earns real respect. You won't be one of us, but you'll still be family."
The words hang in the air.
Azure shakes her head first. "I'll pass on this one. Not interested in gang politics." She folds her arms and smiles politely at Blake. "But I'm more than happy to have your crew swing by my shop."
Mister shifts in his seat, posture composed. "I'm comfortable keeping this purely professional. No need to involve myself further."
"Fair enough." Blake chuckles, the sound low and steady, his head tilting in rhythm. "For most of you, staying business associates makes sense." His gaze drifts between us, then lands squarely on Remi and me. "But for others… it might be a bit more important."
I raise an eyebrow. "Why's that?"
"Because, my friendly solo," Blake says, that sly grin creeping across his face, "entertainment and bravado are what the Dead Kings thrive on. You've pissed off some of my boys—sure—but you paid the price, so I'll let it go. This, though, is how you stay in good standing. And honestly…" He chuckles, eyes glinting red. "I'm surprised you even have to ask. Isn't it obvious?"
Tetra clears his throat, uneasy. "So, uh, what exactly is the Gauntlet?"
Blake grins like he's been waiting for the question all night. "Now, that would spoil the fun, wouldn't it?" He leans back, tapping the side of his cheek as if savoring the moment. "Let's just say it's a little… physically demanding. Hella hard, even for the best of us—especially if you're not chromed out. Most people end up in the hospital afterward."
The room falls silent. A heavy quiet, the kind that stretches too long.
Hospital? My stomach tightens. Just what the hell is this supposed to be?
Shock's eyes go wide, her jaw hanging open. "Hospital? Ummm, yeah, that's a no from me."
Blake raises a hand, his grin never fading. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll cover the medical bills. It'd be cruel otherwise."
Remi is the first to break the tension. His trademark grin returns, cocky and reckless as ever. "Fuck it, we ball. I'll show everyone I'm not a pussy."
Blake laughs, the sound bouncing off the walls. "Excellent! That's the spirit—I knew I liked you for a reason." He motions to one of his harem to jot Remi down. "You're gonna love it, kid."
I roll my eyes; irritation bubbles up. "You're seriously not gonna tell us anything useful? No rules, no objective?"
He leans back, grin unbroken. "Oh, come on. Where's the fun in knowing everything? Let me put it like this: your life won't be in danger. But you'll sweat. A lot." He winks, daring. "Maybe a few bruises here and there."
Smartass.
Azure looks flat-out annoyed. She leans over and whispers, "He's screwing with you. Don't do it."
Tetra clears his throat, hesitant. "I'm not sure. I have loyalties—my family—"
Blake raises a hand, cutting him off gently. "Say no more. I'd never ask you to compromise that. I respect it."
Tetra visibly relaxes and sinks back into his chair.
I let out a slow breath. My mind's already running the angles.
Damn it. Remi's volunteered, and the rest of the crew wants out.
My instincts shout walk away, but Blake's words keep nagging. I close my eyes and try to think. Neutrality has been my policy for years, but tonight's different. A lot different.
Blake calls me out with that charming menace of his. "Well? Miss solo?"
"Give me a minute." I rub my temple; my brain feels like it's been run through a grinder. Thoughts churn behind my eyes—how I got here, what I stand to gain, and what I could still lose.
Stole an expensive car, basically got caught, and now I'm tied to the Dead Kings whether I like it or not.
Even if AXIS's murder gets blamed on someone else, just signing up to repay the Porsche paints a giant target on my back for the other gangs—or police.
Lovely. I might as well have tattooed it across my forehead.
Honestly, the Dead Kings aren't even the worst option out there. At least, they steer clear of the darkest crimes—no trafficking, no full-blown horror shows. That honour belongs to the Melders and the Banshees, gangs so vile they make the Dead Kings look like saints. The Velvs? Closer to squeaky-clean, sure, but they're more like neighborhood heroes than real gangsters.
Then something clicks.
Wait.If Blake's serious about expanding into show business, that could actually boost my modeling gigs.
Exposure, connections, money—it's all there.
But is it worth it? There's a reason I've never mixed identities. Is it really a good idea to break that rule? Now?
Then again… I could make a fortune. And tonight, so much has already changed.
When I open my eyes, everyone's watching—my team, Blake, his entourage. The weight of their attention presses in like heat.
Fuck it.There's a shot here to fix my reputation, maybe even elevate it—with the Dead Kings' backing, no less.
I meet Blake's gaze, keeping my expression flat. "So what happens after I say yes?"
His grin stretches, wolfish and full of promise. "Then you become someone we hold in high regard. No questions asked. Need favours done? Easy. Get into shit? We'll come running. Hell, we'd even throw a birthday party in your honour."
I sigh and glance at my phone. 4 AM.
All I want is to crawl into bed and forget this night ever happened. But if I walk away now, I'll be shutting doors I might need open later. The rewards outweigh the risks—or at least that's what my exhausted brain tells me.
"Fine," I mutter. "I'll do it."
Blake brings his metal hands together, the impact ringing like a hammer strike. "Good shit, that's what I like to hear!" He turns to his women, beckoning a few forward with a finger. "Girls, get these two prepped. Let's make this a night to remember."
The harem behind him rises and moves toward us. I exchange a glance with Remi—he's grinning, unbothered, riding the adrenaline high.
"Aight, we're locked in."
I roll my eyes. "Right…" Glad someone's enjoying themselves.
Blake watches us with a predatory gleam, clearly savoring every second. "I'll see you in a bit! Don't chicken out now!" His laughter follows us out, echoing down the hall as we're led toward the elevator.
Shock jogs after us while the rest of the crew is swept up by another group. "Good luckkk~! We'll see if we can find a place to spectate!" She gives us a quick salute before rejoining the others.
As the elevator descends, the sound of distant cheering rises—a deep, rolling thunder that rattles the walls.
The rumble builds into a roar, layered with voices and pounding bass.
Whatever's waiting, it's raw, unfiltered energy. And I'm absolutely NOT ready for it.