Badass in Disguise Chapter 156

Flames still danced in the distance as morning broke over Crimson Valley. The destruction of five auction houses had sent the Scorpio family into a frenzy, like disturbing a nest of hornets. From my vantage point on a nearby rooftop, I could see armed men patrolling the streets, stopping anyone who looked remotely American.

From my position, I could see into an open window of the headquarters building. A man with salt-and-pepper hair was pacing furiously, his face contorted with rage as he shouted at someone out of view. Even from this distance, his fury was palpable.

"Burn them all!" he roared, slamming his fist against a wall. "Find these American dogs and bring them to me! I want them alive so I can skin them myself!"

I adjusted my scope slightly, focusing on the person receiving this tirade. It was the man from the auction house—Loki. He stood perfectly still, his face a blank mask as the older man—Marcus, I presumed—continued his rant.

"You worthless mongrel!" Marcus spat. "You were there and you did nothing! You saw them and you let them walk right in!" He grabbed a crystal tumbler from his desk and hurled it at Loki, who didn't even flinch as it shattered against the wall beside his head.

"The Scorpio family doesn't tolerate failure," Marcus continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Get out of my sight. Find them, or don't come back at all."

Loki gave a slight nod before turning and walking out of the room. His face remained expressionless, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

I packed up my surveillance gear. It was time to pay Loki a visit.

---

Finding his apartment was simple enough. As part of the Scorpio family, he lived in one of the better districts of Crimson Valley, though his accommodations were modest compared to what I'd seen of Marcus's lifestyle. The building had minimal security—a single guard who was more interested in his phone than his surroundings.

I waited inside Loki's apartment, seated at his coffee table, methodically cleaning my tactical knife. The apartment was sparsely furnished, almost impersonal. No photographs, no personal mementos. Just the necessities and a few expensive bottles of liquor.

When the door finally opened, I stayed perfectly still. Loki stepped inside, closing the door behind him before reaching for the light switch. As his hand moved, I flicked my wrist, sending my knife sailing through the air. It embedded itself in the wall, centimeters from his fingers.

"Shit!" He jerked his hand back, immediately dropping into a defensive stance. His eyes found me in the shadows, recognition dawning on his face. "Well, well. The American girl from the auction."

"Not just any American girl," I replied, my voice cold. "The one who burned down your boss's little enterprise."

Loki's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "I gathered as much." He straightened, seeming unconcerned by my presence. "I assume you're here to kill me?"

"If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made it through the door."

He nodded, accepting this logic. "May I?" He gestured toward the kitchen.

"Go ahead."

Loki walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a beer. He offered me one, which I declined with a slight shake of my head. He popped the cap and took a long swig before leaning against the counter.

"Your boss seemed pretty upset," I remarked. "Mongrel, worthless, failure... he really laid into you back there."

A flash of something—anger, perhaps—crossed Loki's face before disappearing behind his mask of indifference. "Marcus has a colorful vocabulary when he's angry."

"And yet you seem to be taking it rather well."

"What choice do I have?" He shrugged.

I stood, retrieving my knife from the wall. "You're not out looking for me like he ordered."

"No, I'm not."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not his dog to command." Loki took another sip of beer. "So, I assume you didn't break into my apartment just to discuss my family dynamics. What do you want?"

I decided to be direct. "I'm looking for Ace of Spades."

Loki's eyes narrowed slightly. "Shadow Organization, then?" When I didn't respond, he continued, "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I know very little about the Shadow Organization."

"I don't believe you."

"Try the drug lord in the east district, or perhaps the arms dealer in the southwest." Loki set his beer down. "I was only recently assigned here by the family. I don't know much about our operations in this area. As you heard earlier, I don't exactly have a say in family matters. Many things I'm not privy to, including whether your Ace of Spades might be with us."

I smiled coldly. "You want to use me against Marcus."

"I have my motivations," he admitted. "But what I've told you is true."

I tilted my head, considering him. "Who in your Scorpio family would be most like Ace of Spades?"

"If Ace of Spades were here," Loki replied carefully, "would they work under Marcus? That's what you're wondering, isn't it?"

I nodded slowly.

"Interested in working together?" Loki suggested. "With your skills and my inside knowledge, we could—"

"You think you're worthy?" I cut him off, my voice dripping with disdain.

I turned and headed for the window I'd entered through. As I slipped out into the night, I heard Loki murmur, "Not necessarily."

---

The journey to the arms dealer's territory was tense. Scorpio's men were everywhere, stopping vehicles, questioning pedestrians. Our driver, a American who'd been living in Crimson Valley for years, navigated the back roads expertly.

"Scorpio's hunting for Americans," he explained. "Lucky for us, the arms dealer has a soft spot for our kind. Any American in trouble can seek help there."

When we reached the checkpoint at the border of the arms dealer's territory, the guards eyed us suspiciously. Night and Chris sat in the back of the SUV, while I rode shotgun.

"Americans?" one guard asked, peering into our vehicle.

"Yes," our driver answered. "Seeking sanctuary."

The guard studied each of our faces before nodding. "Go ahead. But stay out of trouble."

As we drove through the gates, I noted the stark difference between Scorpio's territory and this one. The buildings were better maintained, the streets cleaner. People moved about freely, without the oppressive fear I'd sensed elsewhere in Crimson Valley.

We were led to a large compound at the center of the territory. Two figures stood waiting for us—a tall, muscular man with a shaved head and a slender woman with short blonde hair.

"I'm Maverick," the man introduced himself. "This is Sloane. Welcome to our humble operation."

"I'm Jade," I replied. "This is Night, Chris Jensen, and you can call him Night."

"I'm a boss," Night added with a grin. "Handsome, rich, and—"

"Annoying," I finished for him. "We need your help."

Chris stepped forward, explaining our situation—the rescued girl who needed to return to America, Scorpio's manhunt for us, our need for temporary shelter.

Sloane frowned. "Scorpio's looking for them, and you brought them here? This water's too hot for us to wade into."

Maverick raised a hand to silence her. "We'll help with the girl. We can get her on a transport tonight."

"I want our people escorting her," Chris insisted.

Sloane's frown deepened, but Maverick nodded. "Agreed."

"We also need to purchase weapons," Chris continued. "And request temporary lodging."

Maverick's expression turned apologetic. "We can supply the weapons, but I can't offer you shelter. You just burned Scorpio's property. I can't risk having you here. I'm sorry I can't do more."

We were escorted to the border of their territory.

As we prepared to leave, I suddenly turned back. "Wait for me. I need to go back."