4. Eyeliner and Egos

Amara pov:

As I walked into the place, I couldn’t help but notice how huge it was. The walls were painted black, giving it a creepy vibe, and there were giant statues of the old Dragovic rulers everywhere.

They were meant to look scary, but honestly, I found them funny. Big round stomachs and bald heads, what was supposed to be intimidating just looked ridiculous.

The guard walking with me saw me chuckling and tried to glare at me. Poor guy, he was scared. I could feel it, and honestly, he had every reason to be nervous.

“What’s so scary about them? They look hilarious! Big bellies, no hair, totally bald. Is your boss ugly like them? Ugh, I was hoping for some handsome mafia guy, but I guess those only exist in books,” I said, letting out a little rant.

The guard didn’t say a word. He just kept walking, ignoring me like I wasn’t even there.

Asshole.

Finally, we reached a huge door. It swung open slowly, leading to a massive room. The guard stopped and finally spoke, his voice flat and cold.

“You can go in. Mr. Dragovic is waiting for you,” he said.

“Oh, so you can talk?” I snapped.

Without answering, he turned and walked away. No goodbye, no nothing.

“Wow, rude…” I mumbled under my breath, shaking my head.

The room was colder than I expected, and yet the man standing at its center radiated a presence that felt like fire.

Viktor Dragovic. The infamous Lion. The bastard I’d heard a thousand whispered stories about, none of which did him justice.

He turned as I stepped in, his sharp gray eyes locking on mine immediately. For a moment, his expression didn’t shift, a mask of control. But then, as his gaze trailed over me, that control cracked just enough to let something slip through. Amusement. Disbelief. And maybe just a touch of annoyance.

“This is a joke, right?” His voice was deep and smooth, but it carried an edge sharp enough to draw blood.

He gestured at me like I was an exhibit at some bizarre museum.

“You’re the assassin everyone’s so scared of? The Revenant?”

I smirked, leaning against the doorframe with deliberate nonchalance.

“Disappointed?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Disappointed doesn’t even cover it. I expected someone... bigger. Meaner. Less—”

He waved a hand, searching for the word “—delicate.”

I rolled my eyes. “Careful, Dragovic. Underestimating me is what got Dmitri killed.”

That wiped the smirk off his face. His jaw tensed, and for a brief second, I thought I saw something like humiliation flash in his eyes. Good. Let him choke on it.

“You’re cocky for someone who had to use shadows and silence to get the job done,” He said, stepping closer.

“Are you even old enough to hold a weapon? Or do you just stab people with your eyeliner?”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. A sharp, biting sound that echoed in the cavernous room.

“Keep joking, Lion,” I said.

“It’s cute. Almost makes me forget you spent four years failing to kill a man I took out in one night.”

His eyes darkened, and he took another step toward me, his size suddenly feeling oppressive. But I didn’t back down. I stared up at him, unflinching, even as he loomed over me like a storm cloud.

“You think you’re untouchable because of one kill?” he said quietly, dangerously.

“You’re not the only killer in this city, Amara.”

“No,” I said, my voice ice-cold. “I’m just the best.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between us, crackling like static.

Then, to my surprise, he smiled. Not the cruel smirk I’d seen earlier, but something quieter. More calculating.

“You’ve got balls. I’ll give you that.” He straightened, stepping back just enough to give me breathing room, though his presence still filled the space like a vice.

“But balls don’t make you invincible.”

“And neither does an army of hired muscle,” I shot back, crossing my arms.

“So why don’t we skip the pissing contest and get to why I’m here?”

He studied me for a long moment, like he was trying to decide whether to laugh or strangle me.

Eventually, he moved to a nearby table, poured himself a drink, and turned back to face me with a casual air that didn’t fool me for a second.

“You’ve got speed,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

“Brains. Precision. You killed the man I’ve been hunting for years like it was nothing. That’s... impressive.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Was that a compliment? Careful, Dragovic. People might think you’re going soft.”

He ignored me.

“I’ve got everything,” he continued, his voice steady and sure.

“An army, resources, more money than I know what to do with. But someone like you?” He took a sip of his drink, eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re the piece that makes the whole damn puzzle work.”

I stared at him, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” he said, setting the glass down with a sharp clink, “is that I want you to work for me.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You’re kidding.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” he said, his tone dead serious.

“Let me get this straight,” I said, fighting the urge to laugh.

“You want me to join your merry band of thugs? What, so I can babysit your goons while they fumble around with their guns?”

“Not exactly,” he said.

“I don’t need a babysitter. I need someone who’s untouchable. Someone who can do the things no one else can. And that’s you.”

I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a trap. He was calm, confident, infuriatingly composed. And as much as I hated to admit it, he was making sense. With his resources and my skills... we’d be unstoppable.

But that didn’t mean I trusted him. Men like Viktor always wanted something more than what they said. And I wasn’t about to become another pawn in his game.

“I don’t work for anyone,” I said firmly. “Not even you.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back against the table, arms crossed, and gave me a look that was equal parts respect and challenge.

“Think about it,” he said. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I shot back, turning on my heel and walking out.

As the doors closed behind me, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Viktor Dragovic was dangerous. Too dangerous. But there was something about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

And that terrified me more than anything else.