«I swear, that little bastard will get what he deserves one of these days!» Christian snaps.
He's seething with rage. The stink of alcohol clings to him.
His eyes are locked on his right hand. It's still in a cast, even after a whole week.
Ever since the fight with Ren, he hasn't shown up at school.
Not because of the injury—but the shame.
The public humiliation still burns.
Now, he sits on a cracked sidewalk near the old industrial zone.
Luca, a friend of his, is next to him.
The area's mostly empty. Just a few private patrol cars pass by every now and then.
«How the hell did you get your hand broken by a third-year?» Luca asks, frowning. «That joint we smoked wasn't even that strong.»
«I've already told you a hundred times! I wasn't high! He blocked my right hand with just his palm, and it didn't even move back a fucking millimeter! Don't you get it? That's not normal! It was like punching a wall! And the way he crushed my fingers… it felt like a steel clamp! There's something seriously off about that kid, I swear!»
«Alright, Cry, alright… But how much longer are you planning to keep up this Brianne thing? It's been four years. You've chased her and picked fights with any guy who looked at her, and she's never even given a damn about you. Don't you think it's time to move on?»
Hearing those friendly words, Christian snaps.
He grabs Luca by the neck, rough and sudden.
«That whore is mine, do you get it or not?! She's been madly in love with me since the first day she saw me! She's just too shy to make the first move. She just needs time. But one day she'll get it, I'm sure! And if she doesn't… then it'll be worse for her!»
«You're really an asshole!» Luca shouts.
He breaks free with a sharp hit from his forearm, stands up, and backs away a few steps.
«Keep dreaming about miracles and jerking off to her pictures! I'm done with lunatics like you! I'm out of here!»
«Then go! Go back to being the loser you were before you met me!»
Christian hurls one of the empty beer cans lying around straight at Luca.
«Stupid Ren Volkom… I'll ruin your life, you can count on it!» Christian mutters with rage and hatred.
The can rolls for several meters, disappearing into one of the dark corners of the area.
It suddenly stops.
A sensual woman crushes it under the tip of her heel.
She stands hidden in the shadows, wearing tall black heels and a tight black dress that barely covers her thighs.
A deep neckline reveals part of her big breast.
Her long silver hair falls down smoothly, with a perfectly straight fringe that ends just above a pair of blood-red eyes glowing in the night.
«Ren Volkom, you said?» the woman asks with a voice full of curiosity.
«Yeah, and so what?» Christian answers, arrogant.
«You seem to be very angry with him.»
«That little bastard took away my Brianne! But he doesn't know who he's messing with!»
«Brianne… Mmh…» The woman grows thoughtful. «Brianne Leviantis, by any chance?»
«Yes, and so? Are you a cop or something?!»
«A… what? Anyway, you'd like to kill him, wouldn't you? I can see it in your eyes. You can't wait to rip his head off. And funny enough, I'm just the person who can help you do it.»
The woman, now standing right in front of him, stretches out a hand—like she's inviting him to stand up.
«Come on. Come with me.»
Christian eyes her, suspicious and tense.
For some reason he can't explain, he feels fear.
That woman, with her silver hair and eyes so close to that boy's…
The same boy who shattered his pride—and his hand.
Even now, the pain still burns under the cast, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
«And why would you help me with something like that? Do you want money or something? And most of all—who the fuck are you?»
«Money?» The woman shakes her head. «No, absolutely not. All I want in return is your absolute loyalty and devotion. You're right—how rude of me. I haven't even introduced myself.»
She bows slightly, elegant and calm.
«My name is Levreshka Dulcar.»