paranoianovel Chapter 261: The Big Leagues
Chapter 261: The Big Leagues
The concrete hallways under the arena were dead quiet now, like a grave after the crowd’s crazy cheering stopped.Nash walked slow, his sneakers making that wet squeak sound against the damp floor. His whole body felt stiff, like his muscles were still buzzing from being in the Zone State too long, and every time he licked his lips, he could taste the blood from where he got hit earlier.
He was confused as hell, honestly.
Dahlia had grabbed him near the showers with some order from Victoria, and his brain immediately jumped to the usual stuff, maybe her dark office with that one threatening lamp, or her yelling at him about being reckless again, or even just dragging him to the locker rooms where the girls were probably sinking into those ice baths right now.
He was supposed to be celebrating with Alicia, Nia, and Jaz, laughing and covered in sweat and adrenaline, but no. Instead, he was walking through some stupid VIP parking garage, following some GPS coordinates like some spy movie bullshit.
The security gate groaned when it opened, one of those heavy metal ones that sounds like it hasn’t been oiled in years, and suddenly the air changed.
No more gross grease smell or old cigarettes. Now it was all fancy concrete and that weirdly expensive wax rich people use, plus the quiet noise of an AC system that probably cost more than Jinzo’s salary.
And then he saw her.
Nash stopped walking, just a few steps away, and let his mouth curl into that smirk he knew drove people mad.
Victoria was leaning against the side of a car he’d never seen before, some ridiculously sleek black car called an Aethelgard Spectre, which sounded fancy as hell and probably cost more than his entire credits accumulated. The car was so low to the ground it looked like it was trying to be a pancake, and the matte-black paint sucked up all the garage’s neon lights like a black hole.
She looked... prepared. Like she’d taken extra time. Still in that tight black dress that hugged every curve, the slit so high up her thigh that when she crossed one leg over the other, the fabric just fell open completely.
Her hair, that perfect blonde waterfall, was draped over one shoulder, spilling down toward her chest where the dress dipped low enough to make a guy forget his own name.
And of course, the black sunglasses.
Nash exhaled. Yeah. This wasn’t about tactics.
Looked like she was driving herself tonight. No driver, no Dahlia. Just her, alone in that big scary car.
Nash walked over and leaned his arm against the roof of the passenger side door. He looked across the matte-black hood at her.
"New ride?" he asked, smirking a little. "I thought you were partial to the little limousine."
Victoria didn’t turn her head right away. She let the silence sit there between them, like the smell of her perfume, something expensive and sharp that cut through the usual stink of tires and wet pavement.
Slowly, she tilted her face toward him, pushing her sunglasses down her nose just enough to look at him over the rims. Her lips curled, not quite a smile, more like she was laughing at him without making a sound.
"Apparently, a certain little rat and his my secretary filled the custom leather with so much fluid it’s proved... exceptionally difficult to scrub that particular scent out. I don’t do business in a locker room, Nash."
Nash let out a genuine, amused chuckle, his eyes dragging down to where her dress had ridden up just enough to show the curve of her thigh.
"My bad. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug when everything goes your way."
"Clearly," Victoria said, completely unbothered.
She reached down, fingers wrapping around the heavy chrome door handle, and opened it. She slid into the driver’s seat like liquid, the kind of movement that made you stare without meaning to.
Her dress hitched up higher, showing the tight swell of her hip before she adjusted it. Then she reached across the console and popped the passenger door open.
"Get in."
Nash didn’t hesitate. He opened the door and dropped into the seat, the leather molding around him like it was made for his body. The whole car smelled like new leather, cedar, and her, that perfume of hers, strong enough to drown in.
"I was told we had a briefing," Nash said, settling back as the door closed behind him, sealing them in silence. "The office too formal for you tonight?"
Victoria turned the key. The engine growled deeply, the kind of sound that vibrated up through the floor and settled low in Nash’s spine. She reached up, slowly sliding her black sunglasses down the bridge of her nose just enough for those sharp, striking sapphire-blue eyes to lock onto his.
"We’re partners, aren’t we, King of Rats?" she murmured. "You just pulled off a hundred-point execution on live TV. You handed me the leverage I need to choke Hector." Her lips curved, just a little. "Briefings are for subordinates. Partners celebrate."
Then she slid her sunglasses back into place, slammed the car into gear, and the Aethelgard tore out in the dark.
The night ate them up completely. The deeper they drove into the Underground city, the more everything became a mess of neon lights and dark shadows. Victoria handled the expensive car like it was nothing, her thin fingers gripping the leather steering wheel tight but relaxed at the same time. She drove like she owned the road. Maybe, at some point, she became a private driver in her way up to the top?
Inside the car, it felt like a trap for the senses. The dashboard glowed soft orange, lighting up the heavy curves of Victoria’s chest and the sharp line of her jaw as she stared ahead. Some smooth jazz played quietly from hidden speakers, the deep notes of the bass matching the steady rumble of the car’s engine.
Nash kept looking at her face, wondering things.
He couldn’t just see what she liked due to the quest, so he had to figure her out the hard way, by paying attention. And he had learned the most important information: Victoria hated fake people. She spent her life surrounded by spineless losers who kissed her feet or tried to trick her with sweet talk.
She wanted the truth. Straight, no bullshit, no sugarcoating.
So Nash didn’t play games.
"Where are we going, Victoria?" Nash asked, his eyes drifting down her neck, smooth and golden, watching a single drop of sweat from the hot arena roll down into the deep space between her breasts.
She smirked, pressing her high heel down harder on the gas. The car shot forward, leaving the dirty streets behind.
"Somewhere that doesn’t stink of bad cigarettes and rats who’ll do anything for money," she said. "Consider it a reward for tonight."
The car slid into a private elevator and rose up into the rich part of the district, where all the corrupt politicians, drug lords, and spoiled Upperworld tourists went to waste their dirty cash.
When the doors opened, they stepped into The Obsidian Key.
It was one of those super fancy places where the lights were dim on purpose and the air smelled like expensive perfume. A black marble terrace stretched out, looking over the whole city below. Soft piano music played in the background, mixing with the quiet chatter of rich people in designer suits and dresses that cost more than Nash’s rent for a year.
Victoria walked just a little bit in front of him, her high heels making that sharp clicking sound on the fancy marble floor. Every time she took a step, the long cut in her tight black dress would open up, showing almost her whole left thigh. The light made her tan skin look smooth and golden, like honey poured over something expensive.
Every eye in the fancy lounge seemed to follow her as she passed, but Victoria didn’t spare a glance for anyone else. She moved like she was the center of the world.
They got led to a booth in the back, hidden behind heavy velvet curtains. Nash sat down on the soft leather sofa, and Victoria settled in right beside him.
The close proximity in the small booth created a sudden, heavy atmosphere. The warmth between them was... dangerous, and Nash realized that keeping his focus tonight was going to be a significant challenge.
Victoria lifted her hand and snapped her fingers at the waiter like she was calling a dog.
"A bottle of the ’82 Reserve," she said. "And bring two glasses."
Nash looked around at all the expensive decorations, the lights that probably cost more than his whole apartment. He smiled a little, the kind of smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.
"This place probably makes more in an hour than the Midnight Rest makes in a month," he said. "You sure this money wouldn’t be better spent on the Baby-Boom stuff later?"
Victoria leaned back against the leather seat, turning toward him just enough that her dress pulled tight across her chest, showing off deep golden cleavage. She raised one perfect eyebrow, and her full lips curved into a teasing smile.
"Are you worrying about my money now, little rat?" she asked. She reached out and dragged one long fingernail slowly along the edge of her crystal glass, making this high-pitched sound that went right up Nash’s spine. "How precious."
She waited just long enough to make him uncomfortable before continuing.
"Let me explain something simple about how things work down here. Tonight, you didn’t just win a game, you started a fire. Right now, influential people from both the Underworld and the Upperworld are sending offers to Dahlia’s desk just to get a moment of your time. She is going to be very busy."
She leaned in closer, her big breasts pressing against the silky dress as she moved, her perfume filling up the small space between them. Nash had to focus really hard not to look down at her chest, he had good self-control, but come on, it was Victoria, and she was built like a damn grenade with the pin pulled out.
"Once we sign all those deals," Victoria whispered, leaning so close her lips almost touched his ear, "you’ll be swimming in so much money you could probably handle the Baby-Boom situation all by yourself..."
Her eyes narrowed in this teasing way, and she leaned back with a bigger smile.
"... That is... if you weren’t in my shadow, of course."
Nash knew exactly what she meant. If he was anywhere else, that money could free the Baby-Boom girls no problem. But because he was with Victoria, and Apex Records hated her guts, they’d block it.
Nash looked at her calmly, tapping one finger against the table.
"I know what you mean. But trust me. If everything goes right...that problem will be the easiest one to fix."
Victoria smiled slowly, like a cat that just saw a mouse it wanted to play with. She crossed her legs, making her dress ride up even higher on her thigh. She took her sweet time answering, clearly enjoying how he talked back to her.
"Exactly," she said, reaching out to brush one finger along the back of his hand. "But I hate talking business during resting time. So let’s change subject now."
Nash looked at her finger, then her beautiful face for a second before answering.
"Are you trying to seduce me again?" he asked, simple as that.
Victoria looked amused, and then she let out a light, genuine laugh, a sound that seemed rare for her. She leaned in even closer, her whole body brushing against him, her dress sliding against his arm in this way that made his skin feel too tight.
"And what if I am?" she teased, her breath warm on his neck. "Is a woman like me too much for you to handle?"
Nash rolled his eyes, not even fazed.
"I don’t get distracted easy. And knowing what I know...meh, not falling for it."
Victoria’s interest only seemed to grow. The fact that she couldn’t easily break his composure clearly fascinated her, but in a good way, like she’d found a new toy to play with.
Just then, the waiter brought their wine. Victoria poured it slowly, the way someone does when they’ve done it a thousand times before. She was the kind of woman who knew everything about this city and exactly how to make people listen to her. But this cat-and-mouse game with Nash was starting to actually entertain her.
She took a slow sip from her glass, then looked at him over the rim of her glass.
"So tell me more about yourself, Nash Blaze. I want to know the person behind the player. What is your true motive? You are clearly far too intelligent to just be chasing a seat in the Upperworld."
Nash watched the light reflecting in his glass, then smirked.
"How about I keep a few secrets for now?"
Victoria laughed again, shaking her head. "That doesn’t seems fair, considering how much you’ve already learned about my world."
Nash looked at his reflection in the wine glass.
"Some things are better when they’re not rushed. Good things need time to... marinate. Get all the flavors right. You don’t just swallow them down fast."
Victoria raised one eyebrow, clearly understanding exactly what he meant, and maybe even agreeing. That man was really interesting.
She lifted her glass, her eyes locked on his.
"To the future, then, king of mysteries," she whispered. "Let’s see if you can keep that control... with what’s coming for you."
Nash picked up his glass, meeting her look with a teasing smile. They clinked glasses together, the crystal making this clear ringing sound that hung in the air between them.