In Their World

Vicky Visits the Brothel Pt 2

Damien- the Leader of the Port Mafia

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Chan's POV

I grit my teeth and close my eyes, gasping at the weird tugging sensation that feels as if it's coming from all sides, a strange whooshing sound overwhelming my eardrums as I'm plucked from one place and dragged to another.

I'm completely disoriented in the darkness, and I find myself worrying about my sister, knowing that she's not as used to these little...... misunderstandings as I am.

Celeste, please don't make me have to kill anyone today, so help me.

The prayer is a half hearted attempt to save us from a really long day and a lot of favors to call in.

Finally, I'm spit out of the other side, the silence almost as loud as the roaring darkness, my senses struggling to recover from the quick changes. I blink away the spots in my eyes quickly as I reorient myself and spot my sister kneeling on the ground next to me, a mana gun to her head, but I find no fear in her eyes just determination and worry. She seems to relax when she realizes I'm here with her, and I turn my attention towards the front of the large space, the architecture around us reminding me of Chloe's aunts house, telling me we're still in Revelia.

There's a man at the front of what seems like a dining room, the ceilings stretching towards a roof that has two sky lights in it, placed perfectly between two large chandeliers.

Pretty fancy for a mafia hideout.

Chloe would be impressed.

With my surroundings now studied, I feel myself relax, if only a bit, realizing that we're not trapped entirely, securing at least three back up plans in case its decided they'd rather skip the talking.

The man at the front is facing away from us, sitting at the head of a long table, finishing a meal that seems to be fit for a king, continues on as if we haven't appeared from fucking nowhere and interrupted his fine meal. I keep quiet, and urge my sister to do the same with a pointed look as I take in the man I've been trying to track down for years. The elusive Burning Devil, or the Booegyman as he's more promptly named, recognizable by his striking features.

He has long lushes black hair that falls well below his shoulders, earrings adorned in beautiful rubies as the man leans forward to take another bite of food. His clothes are well tailored and extravagant, and something tells me that this is a very high maintenance and hard man to please.

Damien Jameson.

He was the former next in line to become the right hand man and Commander of Lord Kelvon Brazen of House of Fire. He gave up the title and claimed he would create his own empire one day, refusing to be anyone's play thing or ever be manipulated again.

Not the type I want around my brothel.

I like them easy.

Every movement he makes almost seems calculated. Careful.

Like he's a cougar stalking it's pretty in the trees, waiting for a moment of ignorance, a moment of weakness to prey upon. The feeling is unsettling but I ensure my face reveals nothing, knowing that my every movenement it being watched like a hawk. Even if it's not from Damien, I can feel eyes keeping track of every beat of my heart.

When I look to the right, my blood almost runs cold when I recognize two of the Five Hands of the Port Mafia, the highest ranking officials in the crime organization under the leader himself.

I recognize the Just Hand- Jenesis of Justice, almost immediately,the nickname a sick joke from the stories I've heard of him. He has dark hair that falls into his cat like eyes, runes running all over his body and neck, almost as many piercings adorning his ears and face. But it's not his appearance that causes my apprehension. It's his reputation. The man is not someone that I wanted to cross paths with, much less been caught snooping around for his boss. He alone would be enough to make me worry for my sisters life, not confident that she's been keeping up with the rigorous training that we got drilled into us as children. If it were to come down to it, I'm not sure I would be able to fight him off and protect her at the same time. One of us would definitely get hurt, though maybe we would be able to escape.