Chapter 1 - The Strike in the Lounge
The dimly lit VIP lounge of the Obsidian Club dripped with understated lethality. Dark velvet armchairs absorbed the quiet murmurs of the criminal elite, while amber wall sconces reflected off the polished wooden bar counter.
Dante Moretti, the feared mid-30s kingpin of the syndicate, sat alone. His slicked-back dark hair and sharp, tailored black suit framed an imposing figure, his cold eyes fixed on the crystal glass in his right hand. The dark amber whiskey shimmered under the ambient lighting as he lifted it slowly toward his lips.
"Don't drink that!" a sharp, command cut through the quiet air.
Before Dante could turn, Elena—a sharp-eyed woman in a sleek black dress—rushed into the private alcove. Her movement was fluid, precise, and fearless. Her right hand swung across in a fierce strike, knocking the crystal glass out of Dante’s grip before it could touch his lip.
The glass shattered against the marble floor.
A sharp, chemical hiss echoed in the dead silence. The spilled dark liquor began corroding the polished white tile, bubbling with faint, acrid smoke that burned the back of the room.
Dante did not flinch. A single, tiny bead of blood formed on his lower lip where the impact grazed him. He slowly reached up with two fingers, wiping the droplet away with a white cloth napkin, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the smoking acid on the floor.
"It was poisoned..." Dante muttered, his voice dropping into a low, lethal tone.
Behind the bar counter, the bartender froze, his face draining of color instantly.
Dante turned his head with slow, deliberate precision. His cold, deadly gaze locked directly onto the trembling servant.
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"Who told you to pour this glass?" Dante whispered, the silence around him turning suffocatingly dangerous.
👉 What terrifying power lies behind the person who managed to compromise the syndicate's most guarded VIP lounge?
