After a rather long 'conversation' with the assassin, he had finally confessed that Adrian was here.
So, she had taken care of some things then immediately drove to the lounge.
The moment she stepped inside, the heavy scent of something musky immediately hit her nose.
Without even thinking she had immediately yelled, "Everyone, face up and butts out."
You know just so that they'll stop their messy acts. But from the look on their face, it looked like they thought she was about to whip them.
Ignoring their stares, she scanned the room.
Her eyes immediately stopped at the VIP section.
Looked, like the assassin's information was reliable after all.
She probably shouldn't have killed him. Probably.
In the VIP section, seated on an oversized leather chair like he owned the place, was Adrian.
He sipped from a glass of champagne, his legs crossed casually, one shoe bobbing in time with the lounge's sultry music.
His tailored suit screamed wealth, a deep charcoal gray with pinstripes that caught the light. His dark hair was slicked back, his jawline clean-shaven, and a thin gold chain glinted at his neck.
To anyone else, he might've looked like a powerful mafia boss, someone worth fearing. But Scarlett knew better.
Adrian was all flash and no substance. A spoiled, spineless man-child playing dress-up in a dangerous world.
Around him stood nearly twenty guards, each armed and scanning the room with sharp eyes. But Adrian? He wasn't paying them any mind.
His attention was glued to the scene playing out below, a pair of women giggling as they pulled a shirtless man onto a couch. He watched them like it was his favorite movie, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips.
Scarlett's lips curled into a sneer.
Pathetic.
Good thing she had only dated him for his connections.
Then, as if he had not heard her speak earlier and was just sensing her now, his gaze moved and landed on her.
His face lit up instantly.
"Scarlett!" he called as if not at all surprised by her presence, his voice dripping with fake charm. He gestured for her to come closer, his grin widening. "Well, well! I didn't think you'd actually come. Come, sit with me. We have so much to..."
Scarlett didn't let him finish.
With a flick of her wrist, her whip uncoiled, snapping through the air with a sharp CRACK!
The spiked leather wrapped around the neck of one of the guards standing closest to Adrian, yanking him off his feet.
"ARGH!" The man's cry was cut short as he hit the floor, clutching at the whip choking him.
The room immediately erupted into chaos.
Scarlett moved like a storm, her whip snapping and slicing through the air.
Another guard lunged at her, but she stepped aside effortlessly, the spiked whip lashing out and catching him across the face.
"AHHH!" he screamed, blood spraying as he stumbled back, clutching his cheek.
A third guard charged, swinging a baton, but she ducked low, her whip curling around his leg.
With a sharp pull, she sent him crashing to the floor with a sickening THUD.
The rest of the guards hesitated, unsure whether to rush her all at once or retreat.
She didn't give them a choice.
Spinning around, her whip became a deadly extension of herself.
Each strike was brutal. The sharp CRACK! of leather echoing through the bar as the spiked edges tore into flesh.
"OWW!"
"ARGH!"
"AHHH!"
One by one, the guards fell. Some clutched at their faces, others at their legs or arms, their weapons forgotten as they writhed in pain.
Scarlett's face was calm, almost bored, as if this was a routine for her.
Actually, it was.
In the middle of the chaos, her gaze suddenly locked onto a familiar face in the crowd.
Killian.
What the hell was he doing here?
He was standing near the bar, his expression unreadable, though his sharp eyes betrayed his shock.
'Oh shit! He wasn't supposed to see me like this.' she thought. 'Great. Just what I needed.'
But she couldn't possibly stop. Not now.
Her eyes narrowed briefly at the woman standing next to him, Mrs. Fontaine. The woman's face was pale, her hand clutching Killian as if for support.
She wanted to do something but immediately forced herself to look away, focusing on the guards still standing.
One of them managed to pull a gun, aiming it shakily at her.
She smiled coldly. "Big mistake."
With a flick of her wrist, the whip snapped forward, wrapping around his wrist and forcing him to drop the weapon with a pained yell.
Before he could recover, she yanked him forward, slamming her knee into his stomach.
"OOF!" He collapsed in a heap, gasping for air.
The last guard tried to run, but Scarlett's whip coiled around his ankle, pulling him back.
He hit the floor hard, groaning as she stepped over him without a glance.
By the time the fight ended, the VIP section was littered with bodies.
Some groaned weakly, others were unconscious, their blood staining the plush carpets.
The guests stared, wide eyed.
"Did that lady just beat more than twenty bulky men all by herself?"
"With a whip?"
"Is she a man or a woman?"
Adrian sat frozen in his chair, his champagne glass trembling in his hand. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at Scarlett like she was a demon from his nightmares.
I mean he'd heard about her reputation in the underworld but seeing it was a completely different thing.
"Sc-Scarlett," he stammered, setting the glass down carefully. "Let's—let's talk about this. There's no need for violence, right?"
Scarlett didn't reply.
She strode toward him, dragging her whip along the floor behind her.
Adrian flinched as she stopped in front of him, his hands raising defensively.
"Wait! Please! I didn't mean—"
The whip snapped up, coiling around his neck like a snake. She pulled it tight. "Shut up," she ordered coldly. "Do you know why you're still breathing, Adrian?"
He shook his head frantically.
"Because your father was good to Russo," she said. "That's the only reason I haven't killed you yet."
Adrian's hands clawed at the whip, his face turning beet red. "P-please…"
She leaned in closer. "But if you pull another stunt like this again, not even your father's ghost will be able to save you."
Adrian gave a weak nod, his body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.
"Good boy." she loosened the whip, letting him collapse into the chair.
Turning away and ready to leave this mess behind, a movement from the corner of her eye suddenly caught her attention.
Mrs. Fontaine.
The woman was clutching Killian's arm so tightly her knuckles were white, her nails digging into his uniform shirt.
Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyes darting nervously between Scarlett and the wreckage she'd left in her wake.
"Killian," Mrs. Fontaine hissed, leaning closer. "We need to get out of here. Now."
Scarlett froze mid-step, her head tilting slightly.
Her whip suddenly snapped out without warning, the spiked leather wrapping around the arm Mrs. Fontaine used in holding Killian.
"AHHH!" she shrieked, the spikes digging into her skin.
Killian's eyes widened. "What the hell?"
Scarlett's smile was wicked as she tugged the whip just enough to pull Mrs. Fontaine closer. "Oh, don't tell me both of you were planning to leave without saying goodbye."
Mrs. Fontaine whimpered, clutching at the whip as blood began to seep through her sleeve.
Scarlett's gaze raked over her, unimpressed. "What's wrong, darling? Afraid to break a nail?" She wrinkled her nose. "Though, with that much makeup, I guess you're used to covering things up."
With a sharp tug, she yanked the woman forward.
She stumbled, her heels skidding across the floor before she slammed face-first into the ground with a loud thud.
The room went silent, save for the muffled groans of the guards Scarlett had already dealt with.
Then came the sound that made Scarlett's eyes narrow.
WEE WOO. WEE WOO. WEE WOO.
Police sirens.
"That was fast," she muttered under her breath, her gaze snapping to the entrance.
Without a word, she strode toward Killian and grabbed his wrist.
"Let's go."
"Wait—what?" Killian's brow furrowed, trying to pull away. "Go where? I wasn't part of your crazy circus act, so why the hell should I run?"
Scarlett didn't answer.
She dragged him toward the back of the bar, ignoring his protests.
They reached a flight of stairs, and she didn't hesitate, taking them two at a time.
Killian, not as gracefully, stumbled after her.
"Scarlett, this is insane! I don't even know what you did, but I didn't do anything, so why..."
She cut him off with a look, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
He threw his hands up in surrender. "Fine! Fine! But this is on you."
At the top of the stairs, she shoved open a heavy metal door, revealing the rooftop.
The wind hit them immediately, carrying with it the distant sound of sirens growing louder.
Killian stopped just inside the doorway, glaring at her. "Alright, what now?"
She strode to the edge of the roof, her whip still coiled in her hand. "What do you think? We jump."
Killian blinked. "Jump? Are you out of your goddamn mind? This is a three-story building! You can't just..."
Scarlett raised a brow at him, unimpressed.
How could she have let such a wimp sleep with her.
He was acting like a...pussy.
Seeing her unfazed expression, he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "You know what? No. I'm not doing this. I didn't sign up for your drama, and I'm not about to break every bone in my body because you decided to play queen of the whip."
He turned, ready to head back down the stairs.
He didn't get far.
A heavy hand suddenly came down on the back of his head, and his vision blurred immediately.
"Wha..." was all he managed to get out before his eyes rolled back and his body slumped forward.
Scarlett caught him with ease, muttering under her breath. "Kids these days. No respect for their elders."
As if he was paper, she swung him over her.
The sirens were deafening now, flashing red and blue lights that illuminated the street below.
Scarlett didn't waste a second.
She stepped onto the ledge, took a deep breath, and jumped.