Chapter 3
Thalia walked toward the restaurant, her thoughts still lingering on the past months. The city streets were quiet in the morning light, a few early risers hurrying along the sidewalks. But then her eyes caught a disturbing scene that made her stop in her tracks.
Four men were surrounding a young man, beating him with ruthless efficiency. His jacket was torn, blood trickled from a gash on his cheek, and every time he tried to raise his hands, another blow landed. The young man's muffled cries echoed off the buildings.
At the center of it all stood Vicious, his expression calm but terrifying. Three assistants flanked him, smirking as they watched the violence unfold. Thalia's heart thumped in her chest, a mixture of fear and anger propelling her forward.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Can't you see what you're doing to him?" she shouted, stepping into their path.
The men turned to face her, amusement flickering across their faces. "Mind your business, woman," one sneered, his voice dripping with menace.
"I'm calling the police!" Thalia yelled, holding up her phone. Her hands shook, but her voice carried determination.
For a tense moment, the men hesitated. The distant wail of a siren echoed down the street, sharp and insistent. Panic flashed in their eyes. Without another word, they scattered, disappearing down side streets and alleyways, leaving the young man slumped against the curb.
Thalia rushed to him, kneeling beside him to steady his trembling form. "It's okay… you're safe now," she said gently. She helped him to his feet, brushing blood from his jacket. "Be more careful. Some people won't hesitate to hurt someone like that," she warned, her voice firm but kind.
The young man nodded, gratitude and relief shining in his eyes. Thalia gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before continuing toward the restaurant, her heart still racing from the confrontation.
That night, the bar was alive with chatter, the clink of glasses, and the low hum of music. Thalia moved efficiently behind the counter, pouring drinks and arranging garnishes, her mind replaying the morning's events. She didn't notice immediately when a man slid onto the stool beside her, but then she felt it—a sudden, icy presence.
She looked up and froze.
Vicious.
His eyes were dark, sharp, and unrelenting. He ordered a hot drink, his gaze never leaving her face. "You're the nosy woman from earlier," he said, his voice quiet but laced with menace.
Anger and fear surged through Thalia, and she could feel her hands clenching into fists. "Nosy? You beat up a boy in broad daylight! How can you be so cruel? Didn't it even occur to you what could happen if you seriously hurt him? Do you have no heart at all?"
Vicious's expression remained unchanged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Excuse me, ma'am. I came for a drink. Do your job. I didn't come for your lectures."
"I'm not attending to you!" Thalia snapped, turning back to her work. But he stayed, silent and imposing, watching her every move. The tension was suffocating, and she could feel the stares of nearby patrons, though they didn't dare intervene.
Finally, frustrated, Vicious stood and moved to the VIP section, joining several women and his assistants. He ordered another drink, sipped it deliberately, and then leaned toward a waiter, asking about Thalia—her full name.
Later that night, he made a phone call, his voice cold and triumphant. "Find out everything about her. She's going to pay dearly… she's going to pay dearly for humiliating me."
A chill ran down Thalia's spine, though she didn't know it yet. The confrontation with Vicious had just triggered something far more dangerous, and her life was about to become even more complicated.