Raven's boots clicked against the concrete as she approached the glass doors. The moment she pushed them open, the entry bell gave a high-pitched ding. Inside, the lobby was bathed in warm lighting, framed by minimalist decor—fake plants, faded tech posters, and a row of off-brand battery packs on fake wooden shelves.
And there he was.
Kenneth Rourke.
Middle-aged. Crisp button-down shirt tucked into slacks, smartwatch on one wrist, eyes bloodshot from too many years of thinking he was smarter than everyone else. His posture straightened the instant he saw her, but his expression froze.
To the left, Raven saw a slouched security guard sitting on a bench. Balding, overweight, bored—but armed. And familiar. He'd been one of the low-tier enforcers in the Red Blood Raiders, one of the men who laughed when she was dragged across their camp in chains.
Raven turned her head slightly and counted six cameras on the ceiling.
"Still paranoid, huh?" she muttered to herself. "Same shit different day."
Kenneth's eyes drifted down her body the word, shameless written on it. Raven let him. In fact, she counted on it his lust would be his end.
The last few days had done wonders for her. Her powers were close to surfacing, and with them came the beginning of the changes in her body. Her bruises and scars had faded, her posture is now straighter, her body leaner. It was subtle, but undeniable. Her body had been broken before—by fists, belts, boots. Her father. Her mother. Her brother and other things to horrible to mention.
Now it was mending. Strengthening. Becoming something stronger.
She moved across the room, ignoring the guard's disinterested glance, and approached the front desk.
Kenneth's gaze had shifted. That quiet, burning flicker of recognition with desire to possess her crawled into his eyes.
"Raven Salvatore," he said, spreading his arms like they were old friends. "Haven't seen you in months. You're looking a lot better these days. Last time I saw you, you were just about to graduate. That ceremony would've been something to see if COVID hadn't ruined it."
Raven stared at him.
He continued, undeterred. "Not that your old man seemed to care either way. How is he, by the way?"
She smiled, saying to Kenneth.
"You probably know more about what my father's doing than I do, Kenneth. And let's not talk about high school. Bad memories."
Kenneth leaned over the counter, grinning with all the subtlety of a predator. "Does he still call you when he needs something done?"
He chuckled to himself before adding, "I heard about some of those girls who gave you a hard time at school. From your father. That's just life, Raven. Don't take it too seriously."
Ravrn said nothing. Let him talk. The more he spoke, the easier it would be to justify what came next.
"Anyway," he said, waving a hand, "those girls come from powerful families. Don't start any trouble with them, it's not good for my business. Also it's not good for your dad or you."
Raven tilted her head slightly.
"So," Kenneth asked. "Are you here on business, or did you just miss your dear old Uncle Kenneth?"
His tone left no room for misinterpretation.
Raven smiled again, wider this time.
"Business. My father sent me. He said you have something he needs. Actually, he wants your entire inventory. Says money's no object. He's got a big doomsday contract coming up—one of those end-of-the-world types. You know how it is."
Kenneth's grin widened as he straightened.
"Oh, I do. We've had a few of those lately. Come on then, I'll give you the tour."
Raven followed him across the tiled floor, her fingers lightly flexing at her sides. Every step brought her closer to Kenneths end. With every step, the smile on her face got brighter, ready to pull the trigger. She is only waiting for the right moment to savor it fully.
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