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Silvija stepped out of the car and then circled around to open his door, offering him a hand. The gesture would've been chivalrous, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being escorted to his execution.
"Not happy with my reservation?"
He accepted her hand, his expression flat. "Lady, are you trying to get us killed?"
A flicker of surprise crossed her features before melting into something more calculating. "You even know about Emma Frost's secret property. As expected of Manhattan's best intel broker."
She seemed to be genuinely admiring his resourcefulness.
He yanked her hand, snatching the car keys from her grip with his other. "I'm not hungry anymore. Let's go home."
She just stood there and studied him with those piercing blue eyes that had probably intimidated many across the world.
He firmly held her hand. "I'm serious. You don't want to mess with her."
"I'm almost certain Frost International is after Norman's research," she finally broke her silence. "We wait for Emma to strike first, or we put the fear of death in her. Make her think twice about crossing the Wild Pack."
He couldn't decide whether to applaud her audacity or call her stupid for her apparent suicide wish.
"If Emma wants that research, she will walk in through the front door and take it. She has almost invincible mutant powers."
Telepathy and Diamond Form made her physically and mentally invulnerable, one of the toughest mutants to fight. Her telepathy alone solo Silvija and Wild Pack.
Silvija lowered her head, one hand rising to cup her chin in that contemplative gesture. The queen wasn't giving up even after knowing Emma's strength.
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of New York's traffic and the muffled bass from inside the club. After what felt like an eternity but was probably closer to a minute, she lifted her gaze to meet his directly.
"If Emma is as strong as you described, she should've taken the High Value Asset already."
"Yup." He couldn't argue with that logic.
"But she hasn't, which means she doesn't want it, or—" Silvija paused deliberately, showing that calculative, businesswoman smile. "She can't make a move herself."
The implication made him stop for a moment. "You're saying… SHIELD?"
"Exactly!" she patted his chest with obvious satisfaction, then turned to open the backseat, retrieving her luxurious fur coat. The garment settled over her shoulder, transforming her into an aristocrat lady in seconds. "We'll have a fine meal together, and then politely ask Emma if she is after Norman's research."
Her plan had so many flaws that he didn't know where to start criticizing it.
She offered her hand with the etiquette of European nobility. "We'll change her mind. She also wouldn't want the world to learn about her mutant identity."
Threatening Emma Frost, one of the strongest mutants, should be a terrible idea by every conceivable metric, and it absolutely was. This was also one of the most daring moves a man could make, the kind of bold move that led to glorious victory or glorious death, with no middle ground.
'What's a life without some insanity?'
He took her hand, resigned to accompanying this impossibly stubborn mercenary queen straight through the gates of hell itself. Best case scenario, they get Emma to back off and also learn what actually was going on with Norman's research. Worst case scenario, he'd activate Death's Resonance Link and kill Emma.
"Only on one condition. I'll handle the talk with Emma Frost."
Death's cosmic powers failed to penetrate his mind. Emma's telepathy, formidable as it was, shouldn't fare any better. Revealing his immunity to her mutant abilities was a double-edged sword—it'd put him on Emma's radar and also make her cautious.
"I thought you were scared of her."
'I'm not scared, I'm terrified of the White Queen. You'd be too if you knew half as much as me,' he thought to himself. "Just let me do it, okay?"
"Only on one condition." She threw his words right back at him, though her expression was more chilling than the wintery gale. "You are not to seduce her."
"..."
Silvija smoothly extracted her hand from his grasp and hooked her arm through his instead, like they were attending some high-society gala. The position pressed her against his side, and he became acutely aware of softness wrapping him, partially from her fur coat, and mostly from exceptionally soft breasts beneath it.
'Big, fluffy, and warm.'
The bouncers stationed at the entrance were exactly what he'd expected: mountains of muscle fitted into expensive black suits. Currently, they were discussing something with a group of young people, six or seven of them, all dressed in clothes suited for parties.
Dante approached just enough to see if the commotion was teenagers partying or something else.
The young man at the front of the group, the leader among them, had a nasty bruise on his face. "Listen, can we check out faster? We've been here since morning."
"It's fine, Harry," said a stunning redhead beside him, touching his arm with familiarity. "It was our fault for bumping into those guys."
He glared at Mary Jane. "They were making vulgar comments about you and Gwen. They got what was coming for them."
The bouncer eyed the young man with a sharp gaze. "Boss has forgiven you on account of your father. However, this will be your last offense. One more, and your membership will be revoked."
Harry let out a sigh of relief. Putting his hand around the redhead's shoulder, he smiled. "We're clear, then. Let's leave, guys. I don't want to get another handful from my dad."
Dante's luck was something else to run into Norman's son, Harry Osborn, and his girlfriend Mary Jane Watson. To be real, his attention wasn't on either of the two. The blonde girl at the very back gave him a strange feeling. Dark circles shadowed her eyes despite carefully applied makeup. She swayed slightly on her feet, looking like she was struggling to stay conscious. The others showed various stages of post-party exhaustion. However, she was way worse, looking like she'd fall unconscious any second.
Then she missed the first step down and stumbled… and fell on her ass. For a split second, though, her eyes had sharpened, a sense of clarity where others would've panicked. Even he nearly missed with his enhanced reflexes.
'There's something going on with her.'
"Gwen!" Mary Jane broke away from Harry and rushed to her, helping her up. "I'm not letting you drink like that again."
The blonde, Gwen, rubbed her butt with an awkward smile. "Sorry. Wasn't paying attention."
Dante narrowed his eyes in thoughts.
'Gwen Stacy, huh.'
Either she had been bitten by the radioactive spider or something else had happened. Because one thing was certain—she had some type of superpower.
Silvija pinched his waist, revealing a forced smile. "It's getting a little late, isn't it?"
He almost groaned. She clearly misunderstood that he was interested in Gwen, which, given his lingering stare, was understandable.
The lead bouncer, who previously held back Harry, suddenly spoke, "Ms. Sablinova."
Harry turned at the name, and his eyes widened in surprise. His gaze traveled to Dante, taking in his complete profile, especially the arm linked with Silvija. His expression shifted from surprise to something between curiosity and disbelief.
"Ms. Sablinova…"
"Mr. Osborn," Silvija acknowledged with professional courtesy. "What a coincidence running into you here."
"This is—I mean, we were just leaving. We've been here since noon. Amazing place."
Something about Silvija had clearly loosened Harry's normally careful social controls. Harry gestured to his group to leave, which they did. Only Mary Jane remained stuck to Gwen, eyes locked on Silvija and Dante.
Harry could only shake his head. "Ms. Sablinova, he is…"
"My boyfriend," Silvija said with an amused smile. "We only met recently."
"Wow, I didn't think you would—"
Mary Jane slapped Harry's back while holding back a chuckle at her boyfriend's behavior. "What he means is, it's nice to see you here."
Silvija nodded politely. "And you are?"
Mary Jane stepped forward and offered her hand. "I'm Mary Jane Watson. MJ is fine."
"Silvija Sablinova. Most people call me Sable," Silvija said courteously before glancing at Dante. "This is Dante."
Dante nodded back in greeting, ignoring the way Mary Jane's eyes lingered on his face for perhaps a beat longer than strictly necessary. "You must be Harry."
"It's nice to meet you, Sir Dante," Harry said, recovering his composure slightly. He gestured to Gwen in the back. "That's Gwen Stacy. You probably know her father, Captain Stacy of the NYPD."
"Oh, of course. He is a fine officer."
Gwen offered a tired nod, as though operating on autopilot and barely present.
Mary Jane returned to Gwen's side and whispered just loud enough for Dante's enhanced hearing to catch, "Okay, seriously, isn't that man's face too perfect to be real?"
Gwen mumbled something incoherent with a nod.
"Gwen, you're never like this." Mary Jane frowned, concerned. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."
Gwen stifled a small yawn. "Had a new project."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "We should get going. Gwen really needs some rest. I'll meet you later."
Dante smiled faintly. "You absolutely will. I just joined Silver Sable International. That makes you my employer's son."
He had to make a good impression. How else will he get this poor, unloved son to gather clear information on Norman's research project?
A look of resentment flickered across Harry's face, the alcohol making his emotions more transparent than they'd normally be. "Yeah, Dad's new project… He is really passionate about it. More than usual, which is saying something."
The pain in those words was obvious to Dante. Harry was someone desperate for his father's attention, getting none of it because Norman Osborn was too busy.
Dante made a quick decision. "Harry, you should stop by our office tomorrow. It'll be good for both sides to stay connected."
Harry looked genuinely surprised and then pleased. "That'd be great, actually. Dad is usually very busy. I can watch out for small stuff in his place."
They exchanged contact information before they bade goodbyes.
Mary Jane was already helping prop up Gwen, who looked like she might fall asleep standing up. "Come on, Gwen. Let's get you home before you actually pass out."
"M'fine," Gwen mumbled unconvincingly.
Dante watched them go with mixed feelings. Harry Osborn seemed like a decent kid who had drawn the short straw in the father lottery. What Dante was planning to do would probably make Harry's life more complicated.
'Sorry, Harry. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong father.'
Silvija tugged at his arm for attention. "You're scheming devious things. Don't deny it"
"I'll tell you later."
She gave him a skeptical look but said nothing, signaling to the bouncer instead. The heavy doors swung inward for them.
The interior was quite fitting for the Hellmoon Club's name as they had spent an obscene amount of money on lunar themed decor, chandeliers as crystallized phases of the moon, tables curved in elegant crescents, and the lighting itself managed to capture the dreamlike silver of moonlight.
A hostess in an elegant black dress walked up to them, her smile professionally welcoming. "Ms. Sablinova, Mr. Dante. Your private room is ready. Please, follow me."
They were led through the open bar side of the clubhouse. Dante's eyes swept across the clientele. As expected, none of these were street-level criminals or mid-tier smugglers. The Hellmoon Club catered to an entirely different class of patron.
The rich and influential.
He recognized a few faces from his bedroom intel board. He whispered a brief introduction to Silvija since any one of them might end up as their client or enemy in NYC.
'What benefits could've brought them here?'
Finally, they arrived at their private dining room. The space was intimate without feeling cramped, decorated in the same lunar theme. A single crescent-shaped table dominated the center, already set with fine glassware.
"Your server will be with you momentarily," the hostess said, withdrawing with a slight bow.
Silvija settled into her seat with natural grace and gestured to him to sit across. "Don't let my money go to waste."
The order arrived soon. Top-tier presentation and taste. Objectively speaking, it was some of the best he'd ever had. With fine delicacies and a surprisingly quiet beauty, he found himself relaxing slightly, enjoying the moment.
"This is incredible," Silvija commented, savoring the steak. "Is this up to your standards, Mr. Meat Lover?"
"Good… Honestly, I'd be happier eating your German chicken every day over this."
Even in his previous life, he wasn't too fond of having meals outside his apartment.
The compliment clearly caught her off-guard. Her fork paused halfway to her mouth, and something warm flickered in those ice-blue eyes. "You're dangerously good at saying exactly what a woman wants to hear."
He shrugged. "Only when it's true. Anyway, how will we meet the princess of Frost International?"
Silvija gave him that calculating smile, the one that meant she'd already considered everything. "Patience, Dan-chan."
He was about to protest the nickname when a polite knock echoed from the door.
Once Silvija gave the go-ahead, the door opened to reveal a gentleman in an impeccable black suit, white gloves, silver hair swept back with perfection. With a straight posture, the butler carried a wicker basket draped with cloth.
"Good evening, Madame Sablinova, Monsieur Dante." His accent was unmistakably French. "Please forgive the intrusion. I brought a gift from Madame."
Dante noticed Silvija's cheeky smile and sighed. "Of course it's like this."
Without waiting for approval, the butler set the basket on the table and carefully removed the cloth covering to reveal an extraordinarily expensive bottle of wine.
"Madame hopes you will enjoy this selection from her personal collection." He gave a small bow. "She wishes you a pleasant evening."
Silvija thanked him. Once he left, she lifted the decorative lining inside the basket to reveal a sleek communication device, disguised to look like a high-end walkie-talkie. Obviously it was much more sophisticated.
She pressed the button. Static crackled for a moment before a voice emerged, "Silvija Sablinova."
Smooth, confident, wrapped in honeyed tones that could seduce men—that was the voice of Emma Frost.
"Emma Frost." Silvija's tone remained neutral, professional. "I thought you'd give me enough respect to meet face to face."
A low laugh came through the speaker. "Another time, Darling. Now, how can I help you tonight?"
Silvija's gaze became cold. "Drag your ass over here, Emma Frost, or I'll go public with your mutant identity. Every major news outlet will know exactly what you are."
No sugar coating, no diplomatic phrasing. Just a raw, brutal threat delivered with even more brutal directness.
"Wait for me." Emma left three words without a trace of warmth before cutting the line.
Dante stared at the device, then at Silvija. "You know, you could've been nicer."
She tossed the device back in the basket and picked up the wine glass as though she hadn't just threatened one of the most dangerous mutants in existence.
"My life won't be in danger," she said calmly, taking a sip, showing a delighted expression at the taste. "She isn't stupid enough to hurt me in her establishment. I'm a foreign queen, here to bolster relationships between nations. But you…"
"You piss her off on purpose, so she takes it out on me." One of the few times he wanted to give someone the middle finger, surprisingly, she was the woman he almost fucked in public earlier. "You're unbelievably petty."
He could think of three reasons for her pettiness: payback for leading her about his secrets without revealing anything, taking the lead in negotiations with Emma, or the misunderstanding with Gwen.
"Fret not, Lover." The affectionate word off Silvija's tongue with ease. "Should something happen to you, I will mourn you properly and live as your widow. No other man will touch me."
She had unbelievable loyalty for her line of work, hence her title 'mercenary with a heart of gold.' Or she was just too smooth at lying.
"I'm willing to fight Death for you, and you're sending me to my grave," he said dramatically. "Is this the trial a commoner must go through to date a queen?"
She planted a kiss on the edge of her glass. "Since the dawn of time, men have died for beauty and glory."
"Where is this beauty you mentioned?"
Silvija put down the glass and took the steak knife, and in a gesture that was simultaneously seductive and menacing, she slowly licked the blade clean. "There is one right here, a proud daughter of Symkaria."
"..."
A/N: Next is Emma Frost's arrival!
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