Maelstrom

Chapter 51

Ruse's POV

The room you were residing in wasn't all that interesting, a large coffee table in front of you, you were seated on a somewhat comfortable leather couch, the white walls barren except for a couple of posters. With a sigh you rise, folding your legs out from under you as you walk over to the wall with the posters, somewhat intrigued by what was written on it.

'Justice! True freedom for all!' Was written on a large poster, the background of a group of smiling marines, their faces alight with joy and cheer, eyes glimmering with hope and happiness. You snarl as you glare at the hypocrisy. How dare they speak of justice in such a rigged system? You turn away from the picture, not trusting yourself to not rip the offending scripture from the wall, choosing to pad over to the other one.

"Hypocritical scumbag bastards, I hope you all burn in the seven circles of Hell." You glare as you struggle to not rip the offending picture to shreds, your jaw clenched tightly in barely concealed rage.

A large scripted poster hangs in front of you as you reach your hand out to trace the words written there, barely touching the wall when something cold suddenly tingles down your spine, a shiver racing up your spine as you freeze.

Looking down to your outstretched fingers you swallow thickly, another hand, bedazzled in several sets of rings, covers yours as you almost let out a scream of surprise.

You jerk back involuntarily as you swallow down your scream of surprise, your back stiffening when you see who the hand is attached to.

A tall blonde man is standing next to you, too close for your liking as he towers over your frame. A grin on his face, sunglasses gleaming as he creeps closer to you. His breath tickles your ear, a rumbling sound coming from his chest as you realize he's laughing at you. Your golden eyes meet his covered ones as you try to take a step back, unsure why one of the seven shibaku is in here with you, and not in the meeting.

Doflamingo Donquixote, the feathered pink warlord that you had unwisely flipped off along with the cloaked hooked man, sending him a scathingly sweet smile afterwards.

You sweat drop nervously, not feeling quite as confident as you had prior, being in a room alone with the warlord. Thankfully at least it was only the one, you'd likely have fled in terror if that hook came anywhere near your person. You cursed your stubbornness, knowing you should have kept your head down, but you were Ruse D. Argenti, you weren't about to be talked down by anyone, even if they were as infamous as the seven warlords.

Dammit Argenti, you really goofed this one didn't ya? You and your stubborn sense of pride, unholy hell, now you were going to die for that pride, how ironic. You monologue internally, keeping your gaze on the feathered blonde man, not trusting him for even a second. If he killed you here and now, you were sure he would get his title revoked.

You would have to pray that the blonde cared more about his title than killing you, as you swallow thickly again, straightening your shoulders as you finally build up the courage to speak.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company Sir...?" You purposefully let the sentence trail off, not wanting the blonde devil to know you had intel on him.

He smiled at you in return, teeth still gleaming in a dangerous taunting fashion. He laughed, loud and boisterous as he let you take a couple steps back, silently thanking him for allowing you the brief moment to catch your breath.

"Fufufu, you are simply a delight aren't you Miss Rose Aurum, was it? Though between you and me, I think we both know that is not your true name isn't that right?" He questions, his brows arching as he leaned against the wall you had previously been studying.