𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐏𝐎𝐕
"It's yours, Min," Hyein confirms, her voice resolute. She had gone through a lot just to hack the CCTV and get the damn footage.
"What?" I furrow my brows in disbelief.
I examine the papers before me, each one linking me to the hit-and-run car.
Black Badge Ghost.
I don't remember owning such an ugly car in my whole life. They've been using the ugly car to commit crimes under my name for quite a while. Fuck them.
"It's yours, positively. You left it somewhere when you bombed the tall building," Haerin interjects calmly, her arms folded across her chest.
"Cazzo!" I curse, frustration boiling over as I crumple the papers in my fists. "That fucking wolf," I growl, my voice thick with anger and resentment.
It all makes sense now. Lupo is everything behind this twisted game.
And Hanni, my sweet Hanni, had suffered because of him. Every inch of my body flares up at the mere thought of her being targeted.
Hanni is in danger. I need to be really, really careful to make sure she's safe. Whether we're anything or not, she's my responsibility now.
But what's next? Lupo is hidden somewhere in the city.
He's not in his office. Danielle went through the headquarters last night and he was nowhere to be seen. Unless a tape was left on his table knowing someone from us would come for him.
"There's this one informant we could trust," a silky manly voice chimes in, interrupting our conversation as his figure enters the room, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
Papà eyes sharp with focus as he settles onto the couch. "That man's name is Black Lion. We can use some help from him. But before all, we need to find him first."
"I'm down." A devious smirk curving up my lips.
"No one touches my future daughter-in-law," Papà smirks, mirroring my own.
He's right.
No one touches my Hanni.
𖨆𖨆𖨆
This dimly lit bar is a scene straight out of a gritty noir film—worn-out furniture and faint smell of stale alcohol hanging in the air.
Haerin enters the door with me, our presence brings curious glances despite the shabby surroundings. We scan the whole room, searching for the exact target.
Until we notice the lone figure in the corner—a man with a faux hawk haircut and a lion tattoo on his shoulder, nursing a bottle of wine. His eyes widen with surprise as we approach, catching him off guard.
"What're two beautiful women doing here in a crappy bar?" He flirts with a wide grin.
"We're both intersex," I say so casually, wiping off his smile right away. Haerin coos a chuckle.
"What do you want?" He finally gets down to business, keeping on playing with the wine bottle.
"Black Lion."
The mention of the name seems to freeze him in place. Before he can gather his thoughts, he lashes out, kicking the table towards us in a desperate attempt to escape.
"Cazzo!" I curse, shielding myself as the table crashes towards me.
The makeshift projectile, my eyes never leaving the man who is now attempting to flee.
I draw my gun swiftly, pursuing him through the backdoor of the bar. Haerin follows closely behind me.
Outside, I see him vaulting over a pallet fence in a frantic bid. I fire, striking his legs and sending him crashing to the ground with a scream of pain that blesses me.
Closing in on the fallen man, Haerin stands by my side as I seize him, throwing him firmly against the wall. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he struggles to speak.
"Now we get straight to the point. Where's your boss?"
"I-I still don't know what you're talking about."
I strike him a thunderous punch, square in the face, drawing blood and eliciting more crying from him.
"Don't play around. I'm giving you a chance to live. Tell me," I urge.
"Figlio di puttana!" He spits, his defiance crumbling as I deliver powerful blow after blow.
He grows weaker with each punch. His resistance fades until finally, he relents.
"There's racers... Downtown... find them," he gasps the air out of his life.
"Racers?" Haerin echoes, her eyes narrowing in thought as she processes the information.
I turn to her, she flashes me a wolfish grin. "Leave the race to me. We'll find them now."
Haerin lights up a cigarette with her favorite silver ST Dupont Ligne as we walk, leaving the unfortunate man behind.
𖨆𖨆𖨆
We arrive at the rendezvous point. Neon lights reflect off the slick asphalt, casting an otherworldly glow over the scene.
We've tracked down the racers, and now it's time.
Sleek modified cars line up at the starting line. Their engines roaring with pent-up power. The racers eye us with curiosity.
I keep an expressionless face as I get out of my car, approaching the leader.
"We want to know where Black Lion is." My voice battles with the roar of engines.
The leader grins cockily, eyes me up and down before answering. "Want to know where he is? You'll have to earn it."
A smirk crosses my lips as I exchange a glance with Haerin inside. She's more than prepared to play this game.
"Fine." I agree. "We'll race."
Later, the racers rev their engines, the sound echoing through the streets like thunder. I climb into our Lambo on the passenger side.
Haerin's hands grip the steering wheel. We wait for the signal to start for a moment.
Then, with a screech of tires, we're off.
Haerin drives through the winding streets. Each of her movements precise and calculated. The car glides effortlessly around corners, weaving through traffic with graces.
We race through the neon-lit cityscape, enjoying the crazy ride and view. I look to my left, trying not to make any amazed expressions. Her driving is a perfect blend of speed and control, as if she had years of experience.
Cars that are left way behind seem to struggle to keep up. They swerve dangerously as they push themselves to the limit. But it's no use—Haerin is in a league of her own.
To people, she's a cat. Cross her, and you'll see her inner cheetah.
Haerin glides her hands over the steering wheel with a cigarette perched between her lips. Smoke swirling around her in the wind. She twists and turns on the road, smooth and flawless. Deftly, she shifts gears, her grip firm yet relaxed as she controls the car's speed and direction.
The smell of burning tobacco mixes with the sharp scent of gasoline, permeating the car's air. Everything smells like shit right now.
"Bro, what the fuck?" I shoot her a sharp dagger-like glare.
Haerin giggles sweetly. She exhales the last blow before stubbing out the cigarette as she downs the window.
"Just need some company." She pauses. "Everything's just too easy right now. I want some challenges." With a flick of her lighter, she ignites another cigarette.
We cross the finish line through a final burst of speed. The sweet taste of success hangs in the air like the smoke from cigarette.
She's never disappointed. Always winning games without even trying.
I down the window, inviting the cool air to wash over us. One of the defeated racers stops to toss a stack of money. I snatch it effortlessly.
"Good game. You'll get a call," he mutters.
We speed away into the night. The sounds of the city slowly fading into the distance behind us.
𖨆𖨆𖨆
My phone finally buzzes. A man's voice crackles through the line.
"Meet me at the famous slum buildings."
"See ya." I smirk. The call ends after.
Haerin wastes no time, speeding down the road like she wants us to die once again until we reach our destination—the looming slum buildings.
We walk through the dilapidated corridors. Each step sharpens our senses.
I reach the floor crowded with henchmen, quickly hiding behind the wall followed by Haerin. In one swift motion, I retrieve a bomb from my jacket pocket and hurl it into the midst of them.
The explosion rips through the air. Chaos erupts in just a second.
The dust settles. I come into the scene with Haerin, guns drawn and ready.
We shoot every single one of them that's still alive until they all die. A trail of dead bodies pooling on the floor.
"Ah, can we just have a little challenge?" Haerin tosses aside her empty gun, then snatches one from the dead.
"Always careful for what you wish." I remark.
We walk side by side down the dim hallway, our footsteps echoing until we reach the locked door at the end.
"Go have a check." I hear a voice inside.
This is going to be fun.
I wait until an eye appears, then aim my gun and fire. The bullet pierces through the peephole. A sound of body slump echo.
Haerin delivers a series of powerful kicks, each one landing with precise force against the sturdy door. Soon the wood begins to splinter and crack. With one last powerful kick, the door bursts open as it gives way before us.
Nothing inside except a man clutching his injured eye, while another with messy hair and a clean-shaven face shields himself with both arms.
I throw the scared one a stack of money. It lands with a thud on his feet.
"From now on, you work for me."
He stuns for a moment, then frowns. "Just for that, you killed off my people?"
"They were in my way," I answer. As simple as it is.
I turn and walk away with Haerin by my side, leaving him to contemplate everything.
The night is dark and treacherous, but not our fate.