Squad 6: Royal Blood

Chapter 11- Majesty

Majesty

Maddison's boyfriend trailed behind her like a lost puppy. In a fight, she'd be the one saving him, not the other way around, but she needed to look convincing and he was the only person in the group to allow her that.

The club was nothing she hadn't seen before, lights, stage, though, unlike the mainstream places, it was dim, the stage drawing most of the attention. Maybe not the stage, but the people on it.

Anger simmered in her insides and she channeled it in her gestures, making them graceful, non-threatening, as if daring people to call her out. She could take down ten of these drunkards without breaking a sweat. Maddison was the only thing stopping her. She could not make rash decisions now that she had her to take after.

"Martini," she told the waiter, taking a seat on a leather sofa. Andrew followed, bouncing a knee like a hyperactive five-year-old. She shot him a warning look. "You look like you're about to piss yourself."

He cracked an uneasy smile. Majesty grimaced back at him, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes. What did Maddison see in him?

The waiter returned, setting down her drink. She had no intention of drinking tonight or ever. She put everything into her ability to think straight and alcohol would mess with that. Yet another thing she could not afford to do— take the edge off.

Majesty stirred the olive around. Maybe that's why she preferred knives. The feeling of ramming a blade into the person jumping on your last nerve was unparalleled by any other form of stress relief. Tonight, however, she wasn't doing any fighting. She was here to parlay.

"You better not hurt my sister," she told Andrew, who was too busy looking at the elaborate wallpaper and red decoration lights shedding light on picture frames around the room.

"What?" he asked, and she noted he had paled lightly.

"You heard me," she said with a smile. "Hurt Maddison and you're a goner."

Andrew blinked. "I, we, Cass and I—"

"We're on a time crunch, Jackson," she said, remembering his Agent name. "Time to move."

Andrew cleared his throat, following Majesty. She didn't want to dwell on empty threats. Andrew would feel the consequences of his actions if he ever hurt Maddison, but she ought to give him a fair warning— it shows growth on her end.

She inspected the room, sofas encircling tables, dividing them into booths, a group of people at each. They followed her with their eyes, but she didn't spare a glance. She was used to people looking, that was the whole point— make them look. The most dangerous woman is one that knows her worth and isn't afraid to show it.

She approached the booth at the side of the room, tucked away in a corner, light barely reaching from the outside. Dark curtains obscured the view from the side, a speck of light from the table being the only indicator it still had people inside. Majesty had seen the bouncers look that way every time a new person entered, as if to check their boss was still alive. As expected, the two men lingering on the side stopped her from getting too close.

"I need to speak to Nathan," she said.

"Who's asking?" one of them said, his shoulders broadening as he took a defensive stance.

"No one's asking. I need to speak to Nathan."

"You won't without a name."

Majesty threw on a smile. She had hoped to keep her identity a secret for a while longer. It was nice to know she could accomplish things despite her reputation, not because of it. "Tell him Majesty is here to see him."