The air inside the grand hall felt colder now, quieter — like everyone knew the stakes of this gathering.
After that charged introduction, all eight women returned to their seats. The silver-haired leader gestured politely for Emma and Valeria to join them. Emma moved to an empty chair opposite the leader, Valeria taking a protective position just slightly behind her shoulder.
The table was covered with files, photos, digital tablets — maps of gang territories, names of syndicates, weapon routes, and Vencor's expanding empire.
The meeting began.
The leader, now identified as Aria Volent, opened the discussion. Her tone was commanding, every word weighted:
"We've all lost people to Vencor's system. Families, friends, cities. We don't just kill gangsters — we erase corruption. Emma Elarat, your record shows you've done both."
Emma gave a slow nod.
"That's why I'm here."
Across the table, one of the women — older than the rest, maybe in her early fourties— leaned her chin on her palm, eyes fixed on Emma. Her name was Selene Carrow — a tall, elegant woman with long dark violet hair tied loosely, wearing a silk black shirt that shimmered faintly under the light. She had that dangerous confidence — calm, yet filled with intent.
But her gaze wasn't professional.
As Aria continued talking about upcoming missions and alliances, Selene's attention never left Emma. Her lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. She traced the rim of her glass with her finger as she watched the young woman's every move — the way Emma adjusted her sleeves, the quiet composure she held even under eight powerful gazes.
It wasn't just interest — it was admiration, curiosity… and attraction.
Aria went on,
"We want to strike the Eastern branch of Vencor's operations. They control most of the trade. Emma, with your tactical mind, we want you to lead that attack."
Emma didn't hesitate.
"I'll do it."
Valeria glanced sideways — she could feel Selene's eyes burning holes into Emma's profile.
Selene chuckled softly, finally speaking. Her voice was rich, smooth like velvet but dripping with something teasing underneath.
"She's got that calm fire… I like that."
Emma didn't even look her way — she kept her eyes on Aria.
"If we're taking them down, I'll need full access to your logistics and your intelligence network."
Selene leaned back, still smiling.
"Cold, focused, and beautiful. You really are Vencor's worst mistake."
Valeria's eyes narrowed, clearly annoyed.
But Emma stayed focused — unfazed.
"I'm not his mistake," she said, eyes still on the table. "I'm his consequence."
The whole room went silent for a moment.
Even Selene's grin faded slightly — replaced by intrigue.
Aria smiled faintly. "Well said."
The meeting went on — strategies, territories, timelines — but Selene's gaze never shifted away from Emma. Every time Emma spoke, she tilted her head slightly, studying her tone, her calmness.
Valeria eventually leaned toward Selene, her tone dry:
"She's not interested."
Selene gave a quiet chuckle. "Everyone says that… until they look back."
Emma ignored both of them completely, continuing the briefing with Aria.
Focused. Cold. Professional.
Her mind already moving toward the next step — not love, not attention — but war.
Because for Emma Elarat, emotions were distractions.
And she had no time to be distracted.
----
When the meeting adjourned for its hour-long break, the atmosphere loosened. The women began talking among themselves — some moved toward the lounge corner, pouring wine or coffee, others stepped out to make quick calls or report to their subordinates.
Emma stood up silently, slipping her hands into her pockets. Her eyes followed Aria leaving the room — the woman clearly going to deal with urgent matters. Valeria stood beside Emma, calm but alert as always.
Across the table, Selene remained seated. She had that same lazy, confident posture — one leg crossed over the other, sipping her drink, eyes locked on Emma like she'd been waiting for this very moment.
Valeria noticed immediately.
She sighed quietly. "She's looking again."
Emma didn't even respond. She started walking toward the balcony — a wide open terrace overlooking the city's skyline. Valeria followed, but before the door shut behind them, Selene set her glass down and stood up.
"Mind if I join you two?" Selene's voice came, smooth and confident, echoing softly in the hallway.
Emma didn't answer. She simply leaned against the railing outside, watching the sun dip lower behind the horizon. Valeria stepped subtly closer — protective, like a silent wall between them.
Selene stepped outside, the heels of her boots clicking softly against the marble. The wind brushed her hair aside, and she smiled — that sly, knowing smile.
"You really don't talk much, do you, Vencor's legacy?"
Emma kept her gaze on the skyline.
"I only talk when it matters."
Selene tilted her head, amused. "Then talk to me. I matter, don't I?"
Valeria immediately cut in, sharp tone:
"You don't."
Selene chuckled softly, eyes sliding toward her. "Bodyguard and watchdog, I see."
Emma turned her head just slightly, her black eyes meeting Selene's for the first time. The look was not shy, not nervous — it was the gaze of someone who's seen too much blood to care about charm.
"You like things you can't have."
For a moment, Selene was speechless. Then she laughed — low and genuine.
"Maybe. But that's what makes it interesting."
Valeria stepped forward, voice lower this time.
"You should leave."
Selene took one last glance at Emma — as if memorizing her — before giving a teasing smile.
"I'll see you at the next session, commander."
She turned and walked back inside, her laughter echoing faintly behind her.
Valeria exhaled, shaking her head.
"She's definitely into you."
Emma didn't even blink. "I know."
Valeria looked at her. "And you're fine with that?"
Emma's voice was steady.
"As long as she doesn't touch me, I don't care what she feels."
The wind picked up again, blowing through her hair.
Far below, the city lights began to turn on — and in Emma's eyes, reflected the faintest glint of purpose.
Not love. Not interest.
Just focus — unshaken, unbroken.
----
The second half of the meeting resumed in full force.
The long marble table was once again surrounded by the eight women — leaders, assassins, tacticians, war-profession veterans. Maps, photographs, gang emblems, and names filled the projection screens. Operations were dissected, target names listed, territories re-drawn.
Emma listened quietly.
Her posture was relaxed, but her eyes missed nothing.
Valeria stood behind her, arms crossed, her presence radiating silent intimidation.
The women spoke of dismantling Vencor's secondary branches, shutting down trafficking corridors, executing corrupt police chiefs — but the more Emma listened, the more she saw something else:
Efficiency. Ruthlessness. Precision.
They were exactly what she needed.
And they recognized immediately that she was the one who would lead the frontline blood-work — not with permission, but by nature.
After hours of strategy breakdowns, final corrections, and execution timelines, the floor opened for closing remarks.
The room grew quiet.
And Emma stood.
No dramatic gesture.
No intimidation tactic.
Just her.
Her voice was calm.
"I accept cooperation."
Everyone looked at her — some nodding, some curious, some impressed.
But then her tone sharpened.
Cold. Controlled. Final.
"But let me make something clear."
All eyes locked on her.
"No one touches my people."
Valeria didn't move, but her presence darkened beside her — pride, maybe.
Emma continued:
"No one threatens them.
No one involves them in your politics.
No one orders them.
Or me."
Her gaze passed slowly across each woman at the table — not challenging, not defensive — just true.
"I will help kill your enemies.
I will burn every gang I need to burn.
I will make what needs to disappear — disappear."
Silence.
Absolute.
Emma's final words were quiet:
"But I do it on my own terms.
My team remains mine.
No command above me.
No chain on my neck."
Selene leaned forward, smirking — but her voice, for once, held no teasing.
"As expected… You don't take orders. You give them."
Aria nodded once — a calculated, accepting nod.
"Then we understand each other."
One by one, the others followed — acknowledging, agreeing.
Not because they feared her.
But because they recognized her.
A leader forged by violence.
Not shaped by the world —
but sharpened against it.
The meeting ended.
Emma walked out first — Valeria walking beside her, silent and loyal.
The door shut behind them.
And the organization understood something clearly:
They had not recruited Emma.
They had aligned with her.