Chapter 2

The car doors swung open in unison. A dozen burly men with full-sleeve tattoos and a murderous vibe jumped down.

"Got her?"

The man in the lead, a guy with a scar across his face, had a cigarette dangling from his lips as he strode over.

Vincent hunched over, bowing and scraping like a complete suck-up. "Yeah, yeah, she's here! Mr. Scar, this is the woman Mr. Shaw wants. Look, the phoenix tattoo!"

He yanked me up and ripped my sleeve without a shred of gentleness, shoving my arm into the harsh beam of the searchlight so the blood-red phoenix could be seen clearly.

Scarface lazily blew out a smoke ring, his gaze roaming over me from head to toe, shameless and unhurried. He drawled, "Pretty enough. But is she tough enough?"

I lifted my head and met his eyes head-on, then let out a cold, derisive laugh. "How dare you look at me like that, you piece of trash? Aren't you afraid I'll rip your eyeballs out?"

The moment the word left my mouth, the air around us turned to ice. A dozen guns were drawn in an instant, the sound of safeties clicking off overlapping like a wave.

Vincent practically jumped out of his skin. He spun around and kicked the back of my knee hard.

A sharp bolt of pain shot through me. I collapsed, both knees slamming into the carpet of shattered glass on the ground. The jagged pieces cut straight through my pants and into my flesh. Warm blood quickly soaked through my pant legs.

Vincent shoved my head down with both hands, grinding my face into the ground, his tone twisted and vicious. "You wretch! You might have a death wish, but don't drag us down with you! Apologize to Mr. Scar now, or I'll kill you right here myself!"

Scarface stepped in and kicked Vincent aside like he was nothing. Then, he came over and grabbed my chin, tilting my face left and right to get a good look.

"Well now, that phoenix tattoo actually looks like the real deal." He let out a low, cruel laugh, his eyes filled with a sort of sadistic mercy.

"You idiots got lucky. Mr. Shaw has already skinned three of our division leaders over the past two days because they couldn't find the little princess. If serving this woman up to him calms him down, then you Grays get to keep your pathetic lives."

I stared at him coolly. At best, this idiot was some newly recruited guard dog who only got to hang around the perimeter. He didn't even know what my phoenix tattoo stood for.

If he knew that my 18 dads—the ones he said were skinning people alive—were now tearing the city apart looking for me… Then if so much as a hair on my head was harmed, he could have ten lives, and they wouldn't be enough to pay for this.

When Vincent saw me kneeling there silently, my expression still icy, he swung his hand back for another vicious slap across my face. "What, cat got your tongue? Mr. Scar just complimented you! Thank him now!"

I licked the blood at the corner of my mouth and let out a low laugh. Wendy was so terrified that she shrank back behind Vincent, staring at me like I'd gone insane.

"What are you laughing at? Are you crazy?" she cried.

I stared straight at them, my gaze so bright that it was almost blinding. "I'm laughing because you're about to get exactly what you wanted."

I was laughing at them because they'd just sent a living nightmare back to where she belonged. I was laughing at them because they had no idea that once I stepped past these gates, the only thing waiting for them on the other side was hell.

Scarface waved a hand impatiently. "Take her inside. Mr. Shaw happens to be around tonight."

Wendy's eyes lit up. She thought the danger had passed, and greed made her inch closer, trying to cozy up. "Mr. Scar, what does Mr. Shaw want with someone who has a phoenix tattoo, anyway? Is it because some tramp with that tattoo picked a fight with the valley's little princess?"

The sound of a slap rang out crisply. Scarface's hand snapped across Wendy's face and sent her flying to the ground. She let out a shrill scream as half her face swelled up instantly, her lip split and bleeding.

He yanked out his gun, pressing the dark muzzle hard against her forehead. His eyes turned vicious as he snarled, "You think Wicked Valley's princess is someone trash like you gets to gossip about? She's the precious lifeblood our 18 bosses treat like a treasure! Run your mouth once more, and I'll blow your brains out right here and now!"

Vincent was so frightened that all color drained from his face. He scrambled forward and threw himself over Wendy, shielding her as he bowed and groveled before Scarface. "Mr. Scar, calm down! Please! She doesn't know the rules!"

He didn't dare get mad at Scarface, so he turned and vented on me instead, his terror morphing into rage. He marched over, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and started dragging me toward the main hall doors.

A ripping, burning pain tore across my scalp. Shards of glass embedded in my knees scraped along the ground with each pull, leaving a long, shocking trail of blood behind me.

The heavy black iron doors of the main hall slowly swung open. A crushing sense of pressure crashed over me.

I looked at the tiger-hide throne inside that was a symbol of absolute power. A silent, icy smile curved my lips.

Dads, I was home.