The lights of The Obsidian pulsed with a vibrant energy. Tonight was a special party. Rich people in expensive clothes mingled with sharp-suited politicians. A few known Mafia figures stood in quiet corners, their eyes scanning the room. Normal people, dressed for a night out, laughed and danced. The music was loud, a deep bass vibrating through the floor. The air smelled of expensive drinks and a hint of sweat.
Zariah stood near the main bar, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. She wore a sleek, dark dress that hugged her body. Her face was calm, her gray eyes watchful. This was her domain. Every face, every movement, was noted.
Across the dance floor, Chloe laughed, her blonde hair bouncing as she moved to the beat. She was a bright spot in the dark club. Nick, Elias's friend, was with her, shouting lyrics and grinning. Elias stood a little behind them, near a pillar. He looked out of place, his eyes wide, taking everything in. He held a drink, but he wasn't dancing. His gaze moved over the crowd, a quiet observer in the chaos.
Chloe spun around, laughing. As she did, a man in a dark suit, standing too close, reached out. His hand smacked her butt. It was a quick, vulgar move. Chloe froze, her smile dying. Her eyes widened in shock and anger.
Zariah saw it. Her head snapped towards the scene. A cold fury settled in her chest. She moved. Her steps were fast, silent, like a predator. She was there in seconds.
The man was still grinning, a smug look on his face. Zariah reached out. Her hand shot forward, grabbing his wrist. Her fingers were like steel. She twisted his hand, hard, behind his back. The man gasped, his grin replaced by a grunt of pain. He tried to pull away, but her grip was unbreakable.
"You touch her again," Zariah's voice was low, dangerous, "and you lose that hand." She pushed him forward, a sharp shove that made him stumble. He cried out, trying to free himself.
Two large men in black suits, the man's bodyguards, stepped forward. Their faces were hard. "Hey! Let him go!" one of them growled.
Zariah didn't look at them. She kept her grip on the man's twisted arm. Her eyes were on Chloe. "Chloe. Leave. Now." Her voice was a command.
Chloe, still shaken, looked at Zariah, then at the bodyguards. She nodded, her face pale, and quickly moved away, disappearing into the crowd.
Zariah finally let go of the man's arm. He stumbled, rubbing his wrist, his face red with anger and pain. "You bitch!" he snarled.
The first bodyguard lunged. He was big, aiming a heavy punch at Zariah's head. Zariah moved. She ducked under his arm, her body fluid. Her elbow came up, sharp and fast, hitting him hard under the jaw. He grunted, staggering back.
The second bodyguard came from her side. He tried to grab her. Zariah spun, her foot sweeping out in a low kick. It caught his knee. He cried out, losing balance. As he fell, Zariah's fist connected with his temple. He went down, hitting the floor with a thud.
The first bodyguard recovered. He was faster this time. He pulled out a small knife. The blade glinted under the flashing lights. He lunged, aiming for her side. Zariah saw it. She twisted, but not fast enough. The blade grazed her left arm, just above the elbow. A sharp, burning pain shot through her. She hissed, but didn't stop.
She grabbed his knife hand, twisting it back. He screamed as the knife clattered to the floor. Zariah didn't hesitate. She brought her knee up, hard, into his groin. He doubled over, gasping for air. She then pushed him away with a final, powerful shove. He fell against a table, sending drinks crashing.
People on the dance floor had stopped. A circle had formed around Zariah. Whispers spread through the crowd. Her arm throbbed. A thin line of blood seeped through the dark fabric of her dress. She stood breathing hard, her eyes still sharp, ready for more.
Just then, a deep voice cut through the stunned silence. "Everyone out! Now!"
The voice was Damon's. He walked into the circle, his presence filling the space. He was tall, broad, and his face was a mask of cold fury. His eyes, dark and intense, swept over the scene. The music suddenly seemed to fade, replaced by a tense quiet.
The two bodyguards, one holding his jaw, the other clutching his groin, tried to stand. The man who had harassed Chloe was still on the floor. Damon looked at them. His gaze was like ice.
"You dare touch her in her own club?" Damon's voice was low, but it carried.
The bodyguards, seeing Damon's rage, tried to fight. The first one, still dazed, threw a weak punch. Damon caught his arm. He twisted it, a sickening crack echoing in the quiet club. The bodyguard screamed, falling to his knees. Damon then delivered a brutal kick to his ribs. The man collapsed, groaning.
The second bodyguard, seeing his partner fall, hesitated. He tried to back away. Damon was on him in an instant. A quick, powerful punch to the gut made him double over. Then, a sharp uppercut sent him sprawling. He lay still.
The man who had harassed Chloe scrambled to his feet, fear in his eyes. He looked at Damon, then at Zariah. He didn't say a word. He just turned and ran, his bodyguards crawling after him, scurrying out of the club like scared rats.
The crowd began to disperse, murmuring. Nick, who had been hiding behind a pillar, took one look at Damon and Zariah, then turned and ran too, disappearing into the night.
But Elias stayed. He stood frozen, his eyes fixed on Zariah. He saw the blood on her arm, the way she held herself, strong even when hurt. He saw the cold anger in her eyes. He had never seen anything like it. He couldn't look away.
Damon turned to Zariah. His face softened slightly, a possessive concern in his eyes. He reached out a hand. "Zariah, let me help you."
Zariah flinched back before he could touch her. Her eyes, still blazing with adrenaline, met his. "Don't," she said, her voice flat. She looked past him, at the empty space where the men had been. "I don't want to see that man, or his pathetic excuses for security, anywhere near my club again. Ever." Her voice was a steel command.
She looked at Damon, her gaze cold. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room. Help yourself out."
She turned, her back straight, and walked away. She didn't look at Elias. She didn't look back at Damon. She simply moved through the thinning crowd, a queen leaving her battlefield. Elias watched her go, his heart pounding. The image of her, fierce and bleeding, was burned into his mind.