Chapter 2: The VIP Trap

Chapter 2: The VIP Trap

Brown

By seven that evening, I sat at the head of the dark leather booth in The Grand Luxe’s private VIP lounge. My broad shoulders and heavy frame filled every inch of the seat. Under my blazer, my heart beat steady and cold as I swirled a glass of wine.

The frosted glass doors swung open.

Mavel walked in first, wearing the tailored suit I had bought him and that fake rich smile that used to make my knees weak. Ginger came right behind him in a short designer dress she had begged me to buy for job interviews.

“Brown, baby!” Mavel beamed. He slid into the booth and leaned in to kiss my cheek.

I shifted my broad shoulder to block him and raised my wine glass so his lips met cold glass instead. He blinked, thrown off, then recovered with a smooth grin.

“You look stunning, sweetie,” Ginger said, slipping into the velvet seat across from us. “Mavel told me you were setting up an emergency liquidation bailout tonight. Is everything really going to be sorted out?”

“Everything is being handled,” I said. My voice stayed smooth and cold. “I told Mavel on the phone I’d have the emergency bailout paperwork ready for us to sign together tonight.”

Mavel rubbed his hands together greedily. “That’s my girl! The guys downtown are holding that limited-edition Porsche GTS for me until noon tomorrow. That fifty grand down I asked you for on the phone locks it in the second these bailout papers clear.”

“And my landlord sent a final notice today, Brownie,” Ginger added. She widened her eyes into that helpless look I used to fall for every time. “If the three thousand isn’t in by tonight they’re adding a huge late f*e, and you know how mad my landlord can get when his money gets delayed.”

In my past life, I would have transferred the cash right away and apologized for making them wait. Now, looking at their greedy, parasitic faces, my skin crawled as the nightmare memory tore through my mind.

I didn't just remember them leaving me outside for the vampires. I felt the ghost of cold steel dragging across my waist. I heard Ginger’s sickening laugh as she grabbed the butcher knife. I remembered Mavel’s dead, hollow voice calling me a pig and deciding to carve up my thighs and shoulders to stuff my flesh into their walk-in freezer. They hadn't just murdered me—they had butchered me for meat.

[REVENGE PROTOCOL ON: MAVEL AND GINGER ARE NEARBY]

[ORDER: HURT THEM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE — FINANCIALLY AND PHYSICALLY]

“Money isn’t an issue,” I said. I set my glass down with a soft, clear clink. “These are the exact emergency bailout documents I promised.”

I pulled two thick document folders from my tote and slid them across the mahogany table.

“It’s a joint restructuring trust,” I lied smoothly. “The moment you both sign as co-beneficiaries and personal guarantors, Mavel gets full, tax-free ownership of the Porsche, and Ginger’s apartment lease gets bought out for two full years.”

Ginger gasped. “Two whole years?!”

Mavel grabbed the silver pen and skipped the fine print entirely. “Damn, Brown! I knew you said you’d fix this, but this is next-level!”

They had no idea these were high-yield debt traps. The second the bankruptcy window closed, every default notice and company debt attached to my name would shift straight onto their personal credit files—wrecking them financially before the apocalypse even started.

“Sign the back page,” I whispered.

Ginger scribbled her name. Mavel signed with a flourish and slammed his thumb onto the biometric pad.

“Done!” Mavel grinned and reached for my hand. “You really came through, baby.”

I pulled my hand back, tucked the signed folders into my tote, and stood up. My tall frame towered over the booth. I walked to the door, flipped the deadbolt shut, and pulled the thick privacy curtains closed.

Mavel let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh… Brown? What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer. I grabbed a solid oak dining chair, planted my boots, and dragged it across the floor with a loud screech that drowned out the background music.

“Brown… you’re scaring me…” Ginger whimpered.

Before Mavel could slide out of the booth, I turned and put every ounce of my weight and muscle behind swinging the chair.

CRACK!

The heavy wood smashed across his chest. The force lifted his lean body straight out of the booth and slammed him onto the floor in a spray of broken wood and glass.

“AAGH! WHAT THE FUCK?!” he shrieked, coughing blood onto the floor.

I stepped over the debris, grabbed the heavy brass ice bucket, and brought it down like a hammer across his jaw with a sickening crunch. Mavel howled, spitting blood and pieces of tooth.

“Stop! Please! Brown, stop!” he sobbed, scrambling backward.

I picked up the solid iron poker from the fireplace, walked back, and planted my heavy boot firmly on his right thigh, pinning him flat.

“You know, Mavel,” I whispered, “in another life, you told me your leg was bitten. You sobbed like a child and begged me to run through a horde of monsters to get you medicine.”

He stared up through swollen eyes, shaking hard. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about! Brown, please!”

“And after I bled for you, you unwound that rag, showed me a smooth leg, and locked me outside,” I continued, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp growl. “And when the zombies tore me open, you dragged my body inside. You called me a fat pig, took out a butcher knife, and carved up my flesh to throw in your freezer.”

Mavel’s eyes went wide with sheer terror. “What—what are you—?!”

“You wanted to eat my legs, Mavel?” I raised the iron poker high. “Let’s see how yours tastes.”

“NO—PLEASE—!”

I brought the iron poker down with full force.

SNAP!

The iron drove straight through his tibia. Bone cracked like a gunshot. Mavel let out an ear-splitting scream as his leg bent at a horrible angle.

Seeing him broken snapped Ginger out of her shock. She lunged from the booth, acrylic nails aimed at my eyes. “YOU CRAZY PIG! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM?!”

I stepped aside, caught her thin wrist, yanked her off balance, and delivered a hard open-handed slap straight across her jaw.

SLAP!

The force threw her sprawling back over the ruined booth. She hit the leather, breathing hard, holding her swelling face as mascara ran down her cheeks.

I pulled my tactical blade and pressed the razor edge directly against her throat. A drop of blood beaded on her skin.

“Touch me again, Ginger,” I whispered, staring into her terrified eyes, “and I won’t stop at a leg. Take care of your boyfriend. You’re both going to need each other.”

[REVENGE DONE]

[COMBAT BOOST UNLOCKED: REFLEXES +20%]

[SYSTEM SYNC INCREASED: 15%]

A wave of raw energy surged through my veins and made my vision razor-sharp.

I smoothed my blazer, grabbed my tote bag, unlocked the door, and walked out—leaving Mavel screaming on the floor and Ginger drowning in her own terror.