act 2
part 1
The air crackled with a toxic mix of envy and desperation as Hét, her black fur bristling like a ruffled chi, stood before Ba Gấu and Mai. Her chihuahua-like ears twitched, picking up on every nuanced shift in their expressions.
"So, the butcher returns," Hét spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Crawling back to Diba with a pup in tow, hoping to replace the one you couldn't keep. Pathetic."
Ba Gấu, his fur a stark contrast to her darkness, met her gaze head-on. His voice, though rough with past struggles, held a newfound steel. "Mai," he addressed the woman by his side, "was kind enough to offer hospitality when I had nothing. Unlike some who thrive on deceit and stolen identities."
His words struck a nerve. Hét's eyes narrowed, her snout curling into a snarl. "Speak of deceit, Ba Gấu!" she hissed. "Didn't you play your own little game? Abandoning your wife and city, only to return with a borrowed name and a borrowed life?"
The accusation hung heavy in the air. Ba Gấu's jaw clenched, the shadows of his past momentarily clouding his features. But before he could respond, Mai, her white fur bristling with righteous anger, stepped forward.
"Ah, yes," she said, her voice like a whip snapping, "the wife who couldn't stand the sight of a broken mutt. The one who found solace in the arms of another Cẩu Binh while her husband fought for his life. And the one who, in a desperate bid for wealth, eagerly claimed his death."
Het's face contorted into a mask of fury. She sputtered, her claws flexing in and out. "You… you pup! You wouldn't know sacrifice if it bit you on the tail!" she continues at Ba Gấu "So, you crawl back from the gutter, Butcher, tail between your legs, and think you can just waltz back into the life you abandoned? You're a ghost, forgotten, declared dead by your own hand!"
Ba Gấu, his scarred face etched with a stoic defiance, met her gaze head-on. "I'm no ghost, Hét. I'm a Cẩu Binh who survived your lies, your poisonous manipulations. And I'm back to reclaim what's rightfully mine."
Hét scoffed, a high-pitched cackle that grated on the nerves. "Rightfully yours? You mean the life you squandered, wallowing in self-pity while my daughter, the real Mai, built a life of wealth and prestige? You, with your greasy paws and your butcher's stench, think you can replace her with this… this… pale imitation?"
She gestured to Mai, a vision of cool defiance in her white fur and piercing blue eyes. Mai, who had never known the suffocating expectations of Hét's gilded cage, merely met the insult with a smirk.
"At least I haven't spent my life chasing shadows and clinging to stolen fortune," Mai retorted, her voice sharp as a blade. "Unlike some, I know the value of honest work, of building something real, not just leeching off the sweat of others."
The barb struck a nerve. Hét's face contorted, her eyes flashing with venomous hatred. "You think you're clever, pup? You think you can steal my daughter's life, her legacy?"
The accusation hung heavy in the air. Ba Gấu and Mai exchanged a quick glance, a flicker of surprise passing between them. The notion of romance had never crossed their minds, their bond forged in shared hardship and mutual respect. Yet, in the heat of the moment, the accusation felt oddly… not unwelcome.
Ba Gấu cleared his throat, the awkwardness momentarily breaking the tension. "There's no 'stealing' involved, Hét. We're not pawns in your game of greed and deceit. We're forging our own path, one that doesn't involve your poisonous touch."
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
He turned to Mai, a newfound understanding glinting in his eyes. "And as for hearts… maybe some things are worth revisiting, after all."
Mai responded with a playful grin, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Maybe so, Butcher. Maybe so."
The unspoken possibility hung between them, a secret shared in the face of their common enemy. Hét, witnessing this unexpected turn of events, let out a frustrated snarl. Mai stepped forward, her voice like the crackle of lightning. "You see, Hét," she said, her eyes ablaze, "unlike you, we judge souls, not furs. We see a warrior seeking redemption, not a carcass. And as for you and your precious daughter, well, let's just say the truth has a way of biting back."
A hush fell over the crowd. Hét's smug smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of fear. The tables had turned, and the stench of her deception hung heavy in the air.
Ba Gấu, his gaze locking with Mai's, felt a spark of something new ignite within him. It wasn't passion, not yet. But it was respect, admiration, a shared defiance against the shadows that sought to suffocate them.
In that moment, they weren't lovers, not yet. They were wolves, teeth bared, facing down a poisonous viper. And together, they were ready to show Hét and the world just how dangerous a pack they could be.
part 2
Mai
The velvet lining of Mai's flagship store felt more like a strangling collar than a luxurious caress. Her mother, Hét, a coiled viper in sable fur, spat accusations like venom. "Profits drier than an old bitch's crotch!" she rasped, chihuahua ears twitching with predatory fervor. "Pawn shops overflowing with trinkets that wouldn't fool a blind bat with cataracts!"
Mai, her obsidian fur as polished as a shank, held her ground, but the practiced charm of her smile tasted like ashes. Since Ba Gấu, her Midas touch had turned to fool's gold. Clothes once coveted by the city's elite now gathered dust, whispers of "cheap knockoff" clinging to them like leeches.
"Market's fickle, Mama," she gritted out, the truth gnawing at her like a starved gargoyle. Leaving Ba Gấu had broken something – her touch, her luck, her goddamn empire.
Hét scoffed, beady eyes glinting with suspicion. "Don't piss silk, girl. You built this on Ba Gấu's back, his nose for fortune sharper than a gutter-rat's claws. Now he's back, and your coffers bleed like a stuck pig."
The barb struck home, festering with truth. Ba Gấu, a storm cloud looming on the horizon, cast a long, chilling shadow over her success.
"He's nothing but trouble," she spat, voice tight with suppressed fury. "A walking blight, waiting to unleash chaos on our doorstep."
Hét's smile, a cruel crescent moon, gleamed with predator's hunger. "Then let him dance, Mai. Dance to our tune. Invite him, offer a truce, a partnership. Then, when he's caught in our web like a fly in honey, we strike."
The plan, as foul and venomous as a sewer serpent's breath, coiled around Mai's gut. Betrayal of the mutt who held her heart, ashes on her tongue. But the iron grip of her mother, the cold weight of obligation, squeezed the air from her lungs.
"Witnesses," she rasped, voice hollow as a tomb.
Hét's chuckle, a dry rustling of windblown bones, slithered through the room. "Leave that to me, my dear. We'll have a houseful of eyes and ears, all eager to sing a song of Ba Gấu's treachery."
As the sun bled into dusk, casting long shadows across the city, a bone-deep chill coiled around Mai's heart. She was trapped in a viper's nest, every step dictated by the hiss of lies and the promise of a poisoned chalice. Her love song with Ba Gấu, once a vibrant tapestry, now stretched thin, ready to tear under the weight of betrayal.
The night stretched before her, a dark canvas waiting to be stained with the ink of deceit and the blood of a broken promise. Mai, the fallen queen of fashion, was about to weave a web of treachery, a web from which escape might just be a myth whispered on the wind.
The sun dipped below the horizon, bleeding the sky in shades of bruised purple and angry orange. In the opulent back room of Mai's flagship store, shadows stretched long and hungry, mirroring the viper-ish glint in Hét's beady eyes.
"Send the raven," she rasped, claws tapping a staccato rhythm against the polished obsidian table. "Let it whisper sweet nothings of truce and partnership in Ba Gấu's ear. Tell him we offer olive branches, not sharpened knives."
A smirk played on her lips, thin and cruel as a razor's edge. The invitation, crafted with the silk of deceit and the ink of lies, was a poisoned chalice waiting to be swallowed.
A wizened servant, his face a roadmap of wrinkles etched by years of navigating Hét's treacherous terrain, bowed low. "As you command, mistress."
He slunk out, leaving behind the cloying scent of incense and the heavy weight of anticipation. Mai, coiled tight in her onyx fur, felt a tremor of unease crawl up her spine. This was a dance with the devil, and the floor was slick with betrayal.
Hours bled into minutes, the air thick with the silence of a predator waiting to pounce. Then, a rap on the door, sharp as a butcher's cleaver slicing through bone.
Hét's smile, a cruel crescent moon, gleamed with predatory hunger. "Go, Mai. Play the part of the wounded dove. Let him believe you miss the warmth of his shadow."
Mai rose, her legs heavy with leaden dread. She opened the door, revealing a figure bathed in the dying embers of twilight. Ba Gấu, his scarred face etched with weariness, stood before her, a lone wolf in a den of vipers.