The room was silent.
All eyes were on Ochieng and The Phantom King.
The shattered glass crunched under Ochieng's boots as he stepped forward, eyes locked on the man at the top of the grand staircase.
The Phantom King took a slow sip of whiskey before speaking.
"You have a way of making an entrance, Ochieng."
Ochieng tilted his head. "And you have a way of hiding. I had to light a fire just to get you to show up."
The White Widow chuckled beside the Phantom King, her dagger twirling effortlessly between her fingers.
The Phantom King smirked. "And now that you have my attention, what do you plan to do with it?"
Ochieng's fingers tightened slightly around the broken wine bottle in his hand.
"Simple." He let the words hang. "I'm taking back what's mine."
The room tensed.
The Phantom King's guards shifted, their hands moving toward hidden weapons.
But the Phantom King simply laughed.
"I like you, Ochieng. Bold. Reckless. But do you really think you can challenge me here?"
Ochieng's gaze didn't waver.
"I don't need to challenge you," he said, tossing the broken bottle aside. "I just need you to listen."
The Phantom King leaned forward slightly.
"And why would I do that?"
Ochieng smiled. "Because if you don't… I'll burn this entire empire to the ground."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
The White Widow's eyes gleamed with interest.
The Phantom King studied Ochieng for a long moment. Then, to everyone's shock—
He smiled.
"Interesting." He swirled the whiskey in his glass. "Very well. Let's talk."
He gestured toward a private lounge at the back of the club.
"But if you bore me, Ochieng… you won't leave this place alive."
Ochieng smirked. "Then let's make it interesting."
---
The lounge was dimly lit, the air thick with cigar smoke and danger.
A long table stretched between Ochieng and the Phantom King.
The White Widow leaned against the wall, watching with amused curiosity.
A waiter silently poured whiskey into Ochieng's glass.
He ignored it.
"I'll get straight to the point," Ochieng said, his voice calm but firm. "I want the Black Lotus back."
The Phantom King raised a brow. "Bold."
The Black Lotus was a legendary organization—a network of assassins, spies, and informants.
It had once belonged to Ochieng's father.
Before the Phantom King took it.
The room stilled.
The Phantom King leaned back in his chair. "And what makes you think I'd give it up?"
Ochieng leaned forward. "Because you stole it."
A slow chuckle rumbled from the Phantom King's throat.
"Stole? No. I simply took what was left unguarded." He tilted his head. "And even if I did take it… what could you possibly offer me in return?"
Ochieng's lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"Your life."
The White Widow let out a low whistle.
The Phantom King stared at Ochieng.
Then he laughed.
A deep, chilling laugh.
"You're insane," he said, shaking his head. "I like that."
Ochieng remained silent.
The Phantom King exhaled, swirling his drink.
"Fine," he said finally. "I'll make you a deal."
Ochieng raised a brow. "I'm listening."
The Phantom King leaned in.
"You want the Black Lotus? Then win it."
Ochieng's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
The Phantom King smirked.
"There's a tournament in two weeks," he said. "The Underworld Trials."
Ochieng's fingers tensed.
Everyone in the criminal world knew about The Underworld Trials.
A brutal, underground tournament where only the strongest survived.
Winners earned power, respect… and control.
Losers?
They were never heard from again.
The Phantom King's smirk widened.
"You win, and the Black Lotus is yours."
Ochieng exhaled slowly.
Then he smiled.
"Deal."
---