Charlotte despised meetings more than she despised the stench lingering in the bathroom of her estate. Riches aside, the bathroom still appeared as though it hadn't been cleaned in twenty years. The space was cramped, dust bunnies staring at them while they stood, shower curtains stained with blood. But none of that compared to the way he was looking at her. Glaring at her, was more accurate.

"You should've let me kill him," he said, Charlotte leaning against the crusted wall. It was a tawny shade that matched the man's mood. Or maybe it needed to be a shade or two darker.

"I made a promise to Mr. Belmour that Mr. Novak would not be harmed." She stepped forward, but Mr. Seong didn't so much as flinch. Their height difference wasn't much. He was on the shorter side, especially for a male, but his muscle mass and agility made up for it. "Are we breaking the rules now, Mr. Seong? Would you like to wake up with a bullet in your head?"

"Jericho has been our rival for years, and we had a perfect opportunity to kill him. I acted when you didn't, and now this is my fault?"

"Mr. Belmour has a voice recording of me giving my word to him. My word that Mr. Novak and whoever he brought would not be harmed. Yet you go against my direct orders to bring them peacefully to our estate. Are you trying to get me killed?"

"I would've killed him, not you," Mr. Seong replied, pointing his finger toward her as if it made his argument valid. "I would've broken the agreement. The war would be over, and I'd have saved all our lives. Sounds like a worthy cause to die for."

"You are one of my most trusted allies. A higher-up in my establishment. You think Mr. Belmour wouldn't kill me after one of my inner circle members shot and killed Mr. Novak? I didn't know I needed to babysit you and pull out the rule book, but this is first grader material. Once someone gives their word to Mr. Belmour, it cannot be broken under any circumstance. How the fuck do you not know this? Are you 25 or 5?"

"Kayden gave the order, so I executed it. And he's right, y'know. He wanted to get rid of Jericho for good. Char, this was our chance to make a move."

"You and your violence," she said, crossing her arms over her body and pretending the flickering lights didn't bother her. "Kayden is my right hand, but he is not me. When doing something as serious as killing my rival, that is something you go to me and me only about. Do you understand?" No answer came. "Then let's get back to our guests, shall we?"

He grabbed her and stopped her from leaving the room. Her back ended up against the closed door, but her eyes remained steady on his face. The face that was so soft yet so scarred at the same time. And she didn't mean physically. His irises were dark, his nose slim, his lips plump and smooth. His cheeks were easily the most noticeable part about him, though. The way they appeared sharp yet fat at the same time. Maybe fat wasn't the right word, but his cheeks had extra skin there compared to the rest of his tiny body. He was as skinny as her, which was terrifying to her sometimes. It made his face stand out more. She wasn't sure if that was in a good way or not.

"You're going to regret this decision, you know that, right?" he said.

"Why are you such an asshole?"

"You liked that once."

"Never will again." She placed her hands on his chest, shoving him away. He brushed his hair back, his arms crossing over his body afterwards. "You disobeyed my orders. Consider yourself demoted."

"The orders came from Kayden. If you want to blame anyone, blame him. I should be your right hand, you and I both know I'm better than Kayden. Why am I not above him?"

"Maybe because you blindly follow Kayden's orders without consulting me first."

"No, that's not it," he said with a hand wave, stepping closer than Charlotte wished he did. "It's because of our relationship, isn't it-"

"Our old relationship has nothing to do with this." He halted in his tracks, poking his tongue against his cheek. "That relationship is the only reason why I put a bullet in your friend's head instead of yours. Don't you trust me?"

"Not even a little bit."

She opened the door, offering him her hand. "If you'll excuse me, I have guests. Are you coming or not?"

"Go on, I'll join you in a minute." She stepped out, but him clearing his throat made her pause. "You look good tonight, by the way."

Her eyes snapped back to him. He was in his usual attire of a dark, buttoned-down long sleeved shirt, his pants matching his top. It matched his hair too. "I would say the same, but I'm a little mad."

There was a beat of quiet. "See you in a minute."

"Jimin," she said. She wasn't sure if it was a plea or a question. Maybe it was both.

"It's alright, Miss Evermore. I'll be fine."

That was a lie, and they both knew that. Jimin hadn't been fine in five years. Ever since they first met. Regardless, she chose not to dwell and instead departed the cell known as the bathroom.

The rest of her mansion was a contrast to the bathroom she came out of. A chandelier hung over the grand staircase not far in front of her. The walls were caked in a buttermilk hue with intricate, tan flowers knit into the wallpaper. The floors matched the color palette, opting for a light wood rather than a dark. Charlotte preferred cooler colors, but she didn't get a say in the design of this place. Actually, she didn't get a say in anything at all. Even as a leader.

Her sneakers, which opposed the formal wear she was donning, pressed on the first stair. It creaked under her weight. She wondered if the ones waiting in the meeting room below heard it. If they could hear the creak, maybe they could hear her heartbeat too.

The rest of the mansion passed as she descended. Guards were planted at every corner, suits glued to their bodies like their eyes were glued to the space in front of them. There were no emotions stirring on any of their faces. Charlotte was probably the same way. And she wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Right when she got off the staircase, the meeting room was on the left. It was the one waiting behind the double doors with milk-like paint and golden handles with not a single chip on them. She approached, her finger tracing across the silky substance covering the entrance. There was a sensation of imprisonment swimming around the depths of her mind. Yet another thing she wasn't sure of.

The ceiling was so high above her, she could stack six versions of herself on top of one another, and they still wouldn't be able to touch the top if they jumped. Granted, she was far from the tallest in her mafia, but that was quite a feat. Even at the top of the stairs, the ceiling narrowed very little. That was why it was always a surprise when Charlotte went into the meeting room and found the ceiling to be mere feet above her. With a step stool and a jump, her head could bounce off it.

Her attention fell to the four guards stationed around the room with their hands knit in front of them, pistols holstered by their sides. The meeting space was covered in maroon wallpaper, dim lighting to trick those inside into thinking this was a formal event. Nothing was ever formal in this line of business. They had rules, procedures, people in power. Yet Charlotte always knew it was all bullshit. They were murderers. And the worst part was, Charlotte never got a say in that. She doubted she ever would.

"Jericho Novak and Theo Spade," she said, striding to the oval-shaped, wooden table sat in the center of the room. It took up most of the vicinity, the chairs and carpets the same black shade to contrast the maroon of the walls. She sat at the head, the other two directly across from her with their weapons in clear sight on the table. "I've heard a lot about you."

"How do you know our names? We couldn't find anything on you," Theo said.

"Telling your rival you're bad at finding information isn't a very clever play, Mr. Spade." His eye twitched, but he spoke no further. "Maybe you weren't looking in the right areas. I have resources in places you wouldn't expect. But that's not why we're here. Surely our rivalry is something you'd rather discuss?"

Jericho leaned forward, folding his hands together. "Why do you insist on making me mad?"

"I find it amusing."

"Is your plan to kill us?"

"You're here in my walls, guards around me, security footage all under my control," she said, leaning forward to match his posture. "If I wanted you dead, don't you think you would be? I have no reason to kill you. Another will take your place, and the rivalry won't stop. So why not attempt a peaceful solution, hm? Don't you agree?"

"I came here with the intention to talk business. You look a bit too young to be leader, so I'm not surprised you're this immature."

"Mr. Novak, I'm here to talk business just as much as you. If it wasn't for my interjection, my underboss would have buried you six feet under. I think a little thanks is in order."

Before he could answer, Jimin entered the room, straightening his shirt before greeting Charlotte. She returned the sentiment, him sitting next to her and dipping his head to the two at the end of the table.

"Good evening, my name is Seong Jimin. I'm Madam's underboss. I sincerely apologize for my actions earlier, her right hand gave me orders to execute you. I hope there's no hard feelings."

Neither of them spoke, but the silence said it all. Jimin let the cushions squeak as he sat back, lacing his hands together on top of his knee. Charlotte scanned over the details of Jericho's face. He had a good poker face, she'd give him that. It wasn't that he was emotionless, but he had a face that masked his true intentions well. She could see the little twitches of his eyes, the tapping of his fingers over one another. But she couldn't see his thoughts. That was what bothered her most.

Theo Spade was the same way. Compared to Jericho, he was a giant. His shoulders were broad, his chest matching that. He wasn't wearing a tight shirt, but his chest pressed against the fabric anyway. Unlike Jericho, his knuckles weren't calloused. No wonder why he spoke first. Likely the diplomat of the two. It was clever to have a speaker and a doer as the two in charge. Charlotte was the speaker, Kayden the doer. Unfortunately, after tonight, she wasn't sure that system would stay in place.

"Now as for business," she said, forcing herself to focus not on Theo's dragon-like eyes, but on the meeting as a whole. "I think we should talk territory. Are we in agreement, gentlemen?"

They agreed.

~~~

In a world where blood was tattooed on her skin, Charlotte hadn't expected there to be such a peaceful sight before her. The greenhouse, a neutral territory where any mafia party could meet in peace. If she hadn't wanted to be in full control, she would've had her meeting with Jericho here. Gunning down a mafia member here would break the rules, and Ivan Belmour would come after whoever perpetrated the act.

White roses were the common flower here. She was on the tiny wooden bridge connecting the two sides of the greenhouse. The first side was plants and food, the second side was flowers. She overlooked both sides, workers tending to each source of nature as if it were precious. Charlotte believed they were. Nature was the last thing she had left. So, she leaned against the beam, the roof high above her head. Almost as high as the ceiling in her mansion.

It wasn't the average greenhouse. It was more grand. Richer. She didn't think that made it better, but it did make it feel more personal. Like it was hand selected for her despite it being around for longer than she was alive. She was the youngest leader not only in her sector, but in the entire Underworld. From the age of 16 she was leading. Many saw her as a ticking time bomb. She saw the same, but now, here she was. Standing on a bridge, awaiting the day she found the 'purpose of life' the priests she watched preach about. After coming to this exact spot the same time, the same day each week, it was safe to say her purpose never came.

"What you asked is done," a male voice said, her ears perking up at the sound. "Mr. Armani is in your office and waiting, ma'am."

She pat down her carmine romper before shifting her attention to the one standing there. He had his hands in a knot in front of him, his long locks covering most of his ears, but still parted in the front so his forehead was visible. He was pale enough that the lights overhead made him seem like a ghost.

"I'll need a few minutes."

Jimin came over and dipped his head in a nod, the two of them turning to observe the operations the greenhouse underwent. It was silent for too long, Charlotte allowing her fingers to play with one another.

"I'm sorry," Jimin said, the words sounding like they were squeezed from his lungs.

"For?"

"For being an asshole."

"I thought you said I liked that once."

He took a breath, using it to chuckle before his eyes went to her. "Doesn't matter. You were right. You're my boss. I take orders from you and only you unless stated otherwise."

Charlotte didn't meet his gaze. Not because she didn't want to, rather because she wasn't sure if she was able to. She didn't want to see the eyes of a broken man staring back. One thing she hated above all else was powerlessness. Ever since she met Jimin, she was powerless to help him. No matter how much he loved her, that love would never replace all he had lost.

"Jimin, the only reason why you're still alive is because I already forgave you. Now go, keep Kayden company before I go to him. He'll sure as hell need it."

"Yes ma'am, but we have a problem." Instead of answering, she raised a brow. "A few members of Unmei are here. Including their boss."

"I'll be alright. Neutral territory, they wouldn't dare hurt me. I have my escort waiting outside, so even when I'm out, I'll be protected."

It had been two days since the meeting with Mr. Novak and his right hand. No agreement was made, and they were right back where they started. A territory war with no end in sight.

"That doesn't make me feel any better." He went toward her, but he gave her enough room. She was a fan of personal space. Jimin had a tendency to not care about that when he was mad, but he tried his best to respect it otherwise. She appreciated the effort. "Char, there's maybe two things I wouldn't do for you. I hope you know that."

"You shouldn't say that."

"But I want to. If he so much as lays a hand on you, tell me and I'll kick his ass. I don't care about the rules. Neutral grounds or not, fuck him."

"Jimin..."

"Do not let him hurt you," he said, his small hands trembling against the railing. "We've been at this too long to let it go now. I know we've had our differences, but I hope you know I care."

"I know, and I'll do what I can. Do you trust me now?"

"In your dreams, Miss Evermore."

"Thatta boy. Now go, keep Kayden company before I tear him apart."

"Right away, ma'am."

Charlotte held his elbow, and he shifted back, her letting out a short breath. "This world failed you. I did too." His posture stayed the same, but she could see the cracking in his eyes. "I'm sorry. You have every right to lose faith in the Council. And maybe I do too."

Jimin kept himself planted there for perhaps too long before he nodded. "Thank you, ma'am." He backed away, and Charlotte almost didn't let him go. But almost wasn't reality, and he turned away.

He departed, the sound of his receding footsteps adding to the atmosphere of the greenhouse. She fell into her thoughts for a moment, but she was interrupted by a new presence. One that came from the other side of the bridge, the side Jimin didn't come from. A side she wasn't looking at, and now it hurt her.

"Isn't dating an underboss improper?" he asked, pausing not far from her.

She glanced over at Jericho, his dark hair matching Jimin's shade, but not quite his length. It was shorter, trimmed closer to his head but leaving enough on that the breeze in the air made it appear like a wave of water was on his head.

"Mr. Seong and I broke up six months ago, not that it's any of your business."

Jericho didn't so much as nod. He strolled over, stopping by her side and resting his hands against the wood. She kept her eyes on him the whole time. He was pale. Paler than Jimin had been. He seemed almost like sugar, that was how light his skin was. It appeared as though Jericho and Jimin were similar in build and shape. Both a bit pale with slim eyes and small builds. Jimin was more muscular, but Jericho seemed as though he used his scrawny figure to his advantage. So people would underestimate him.

"Is this the part where you kill me and drag my body into a bush?" he asked. Much to her surprise and delight, he said it in a light tone. An amused one.

"Something tells me you'd be fine with that."

He smiled, a bit of his gums showing in the smile. Silence came next, the pair enjoying the greenhouse together. Together was a word Charlotte never thought she'd use when thinking of Jericho, but she did her best to make it sound natural. And for some reason, it worked.

"I didn't think I'd find you here," he said, and that garnered her attention.

"Isn't it funny? The Underworld is beyond fucked up, but it still has this. One of the most beautiful greenhouses in the world. Right here under our fingertips. My fingertips." She broke off, chuckling without any humor residing inside it. "I just find that odd. I'm not sure why."

Jericho didn't reply to her words. Either because he agreed, or because he didn't know what to say. It was possible both was the answer. Regardless, she eyed him once more. Strange. He didn't seem as frightening up close. His lips were softer than she expected, his skin the same way. Almost like he had a routine and touched up his face before he came here. There was no makeup on him, no, that wasn't it. Rather he appeared taken care of. That was far from what she expected from her rival.

Their rivalry had been going on for longer than she was in charge. Yes, even her, the one known for becoming leader at only 16 years old. She was 24 now, and 19 when she met Jimin 5 years ago. And despite that rivalry, she found herself enjoying Jericho's presence more than most in her own mafia.

"Your right hand," he said, interrupting her serenity. "He's Kayden Armani, isn't he?"

She let her gaze wander over the scenery. The gorgeous white roses she adored staring at. "That's correct."

Kayden never mentioned anything about Jericho, especially nothing about a potential history with him. It appeared as though she'd have to do some digging before her meeting with Mr. Armani. Or maybe she could get it out of him herself.

"Thank you," he said, his tone dropping to a whisper.

The fact that her rival thanked her didn't process in her mind until he went to walk away. His weight shifted to the backs of his legs, and he started moving away. Charlotte watched him go, and her mouth moved on its own.

"I come here every Wednesday." He halted, but he didn't quite turn to face her. "This same time. Like clockwork." There was a beat of silence. And after it concluded, she noticed him nod.
Then he walked away.

~~~

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