The atmosphere was tense, and it was justly so. All breaths hitched, waiting for me to say something – anything – to their slip up. I smiled, but it was far from a happy one. 

“Do we know what I do with useless people?” I glanced around the room, twirling my dark hair menacingly around my finger in one hand and a dagger in the other. Under my lashes, I could see the strongest men in America shift in their feet, cold sweat coming out profusely. 

“How on Earth did we lose the ONE shipment I told you guys not to lose? Is keeping your eyes on a tiny box barely the size of a toddler that challenging?” I rolled my eyes and reached towards the strap on my leg, the holder of a rose gold revolver. Panicking, the five men in charge of the shipment dropped to their knees.

“Please, no!”

“It was a genuine mistake!”

“We’ll do anything. Just don’t shoot, please.”

It truly was a funny scene. Grown men begging and sobbing on the ground for their lives in front of a teenage girl with a gun. Oh, and did I mention? This teenage girl also runs the largest underground network, known as the most deadly and secretive scene of them all. The teenage girl being…yours truly. 

Suddenly, a knock on the door snapped everyone’s attention away. “Boss, there’s someone outside who’s requesting to see you. He said he has something you want.” I lift my legs gracefully off the table they laid on, my heels scratching the wood. “And who might this someone be?” The heavy metal door opens and two men step in. They were both dressed similarly, but that’s just about where their similarities ended. The first man seemed skittish and uneasy. The second man, on the other hand, had a confidence as attractive as himself. His hair was messy yet stylish, his facial features screaming handsome, and his bulging muscles trying to break free from the tight suit he was wearing.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

I yawned but kept my eyes locked onto the newcomers. “Well, boys. This might just be the luckiest day of your life. Everyone is dismissed.” The men who were previously on their knees quickly got up and scrambled out of the room with the crowd, everyone evidently breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Your visit better be worth it. As you can probably tell, my anger hasn’t quite subsided yet,” I glare at the pair, making the skittish man squirm around even more. 

“Allow me to introduce myself first. I’m Landon. Landon Westwood.” He grinned when my eyes lit up in response. The Westwood family was a notorious crime family who has managed to stay anonymous for generations. If a Westwood member shows their face, something was definitely up. “And this guy right here is a little rat I caught tampering with your stuff.” He shoved the man who looked like he was about to pee his pants right there and then towards me. 

He continued, “I might have overheard your tiny lecture earlier before entering, and it appears you have lost something of value. That something might be in the possession of this rodent.” 

My eyes narrow in annoyance. “So you’re telling me, this guy is the reason my men were about to be killed by me? Un-f*cking-believable. You, start talking.” I pointed my dagger at the man, who now looked close to tears. 

“It was an honest mistake! I didn’t know it belonged to you. Those men in charge of the package were taunting me and pushing me around, so I thought I’d teach them a lesson.” He was now in the same position as the men from earlier. Crying like a sinner begging for mercy. How ironic.

“By stealing from me?! Who are you to try to teach my men a lesson?” Furious, I threw the dagger, and it landed exactly a millimeter next to his right thigh. “Brandon, take this man away and make sure he learns his lesson about why he should never mess with the Rose Syndicate.” My right-hand man, a burly guy whose face was neutral and all business, entered the room flanked with two other men.

As the man was dragged away with fruitless protests, my eyes gazed back towards Landon. “What’s in it for you? There’s no way in hell, someone like you would lend a helping hand to others without a purpose.” He bends down and picks up the dagger I threw, brushing off the debris. He walked closer and closer to me until he was most definitely infiltrating my personal bubble, his face being less than five inches away from mine. Lifting my hand and pulling it to wrap around the dagger in place of his, he whispered. 

“That’s a secret for now, butterfly.” And he walked away.