Hugo strode confidently through the crowd, his eyes locked on the stunning woman in red.
His jacket hung perfectly over his shoulders, his hair had just the right amount of gel, and his cologne—sothing he'd splurged on—was working overti.
So girls even gave him sneaky glances as he walked past, and Hugo couldn't help but grin. Tonight was his night.
Although he wouldn't mind flirting with those other girls, there was sothing about this woman that just attracted him imnsely.
She was like a lotus flower, untainted by the outside world despite the fact that she was inside a strip club.
He tried to maintain a very confident smile outwardly. Even his gait and steps were very confident, just as he had practiced.
Inside, though, he was practically chanting, 'Please, Lady Luck, let score tonight. Just this once! I'll never ask for anything again! …Well, maybe once or twice more.'
The woman in red was just steps away now. She was checking sothing on her phone.
Her green eyes glowed under the neon lights of the club and her diamond necklace glinted like stars.
He had a plan: walk up, flash his best smile, he'd crack a joke, she'd laugh, maybe flip her hair, and before he knew it, they'd be sharing cocktails and life stories. 'Smooth as butter,' he thought.
But then it happened. Disaster struck.
Out of nowhere, three gigantic n appeared, towering over everyone like human skyscrapers.
They were built like tanks, each of them easily over six feet tall with muscles so big it looked like their shirts were losing a battle to contain them.
They looked like the kind of guys who could bench-press a car without breaking a sweat. They even had scars. Rough, scary scars that promised a chilling history.
"Uh… what the hell?" Hugo mumbled, freezing mid-step.
The three n moved toward the woman, and as if things couldn't get weirder, they bowed. Yes, bowed, like she was so kind of queen. Or like they were knights pledging loyalty to their king.
Then one of them leaned down and whispered sothing in her ear. In response, she gave them a small nod and a faint smile.
That's when Hugo's sharp eyes caught sight of sothing on the neck of one of the n: a tattoo of a red scorpion with purple wings.
His stomach dropped down to his ankles.
'No. No, no, no. This isn't real. It can't be!'
His pulse started racing so hard he thought it might explode out of his chest. His hands felt clammy, and for a mont, the world around him blurred.
His knees wobbled like they might give out, and he had to grab the edge of a nearby table to stop himself from collapsing.
"Stay calm, Hugo. Breathe. Just breathe," he muttered to himself, though his voice was barely above a whisper.
But how could he stay calm? That tattoo wasn't just so random design. It was their tattoo—the unmistakable mark of El Escorpión Negro.
Back when Hugo was younger and dumber, living in his small hotown in Spain, he'd made one of the worst decisions of his life: joining a gang.
Not just any gang—this gang. Life had been rough, and with no money and no options, the gang seed like a golden ticket.
Plus, they'd been impressed with his driving skills, dubbing him their "golden wheelman." The gang saw potential in him, and Hugo saw an easy way to make cash.
For a while, things had gone fine. He'd driven getaway cars, made deliveries, and done his best to stay out of the ssier side of gang life.
It had been a very fun life for a 16 year old to live. Especially one who always felt left out among his peers and had no social life.
But then Hugo got smart—or, at least, he thought he did. He wanted out, and being the genius he was, he didn't just leave. No, Hugo had stolen money from them before skipping town.
He thought he'd gotten away with it. For years, he'd lived under the assumption that the gang wouldn't bother hunting him down. After all, they had bigger fish to fry, right?
But now, seeing those tattoos again, every ounce of confidence he had vanished.
He backed away from the entrance, keeping his head low and his steps careful. The three n stood near the door, chatting with the woman in red.
Hugo knew he couldn't make a break for it—they'd see him imdiately. Walking there now would be similar to entering a lion's den. Instead, he shuffled back to the bar, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," the bartender grunted, his raspy voice cutting through the loud music.
"Yeah, sothing like that," Hugo muttered. "Uh… give sothing strong. Anything."
The bartender handed him a drink, but Hugo barely noticed as he stared into the glass. His mind raced.
'They don't know . They can't know . It's been years, and I look different now. Right?'
He tried to reassure himself. He'd gained weight since then, toned up a bit. He wasn't the scrappy, wide-eyed teen he used to be.
Plus, those guys were probably new recruits—he'd never seen them back when he was in the gang.
'Yeah, that's it. They're just here for so random business. Nothing to do with .'
But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He finished the drink in one gulp and ordered another, hoping it would steady his nerves.
Just as he was starting to relax—well, as much as one can relax knowing they're trapped in a club with possible gangsters—he turned his head to the left.
His breath caught in his throat.
His eyes widened.
Hugo wasn't expecting this…
______ Stay connected with empire
[A/N: The rise of the dirty cliffhangers! Hehe...]
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100 PS - 2 Bonus chapter
200 PS (Quite an achievent as of now) - 3 Bonus chapters.
Castle - 20 Bonus Chapters!
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