Chapter 34: We are here to join the gang.

Dori Calestina sat cross-legged on the center cushion of the expansive leather sofa, a massive ceramic bowl resting comfortably in her lap.

She was entirely home by herself, quietly eating popcorn and watching tv while the bright colors of a meaningless afternoon drama flashed across her face.

It was a strange, isolating kind of peace.

The thick glass windows of the apartment blocked out the chaotic noise of Barton City completely, leaving her wrapped in a cocoon of climate-controlled air and expensive wood polish.

For someone who had spent her entire life sleeping with one ear tuned to the sounds of the street, waiting for a door to be kicked in, the absolute safety of the penthouse still felt incredibly foreign.

Karl had left specific instructions before he stepped out for his afternoon classes. He had told her some people would be coming to the apartment to meet her later today.

Because of that particular warning, she was supposed to be in the guest room right now, picking out an outfit and getting dressed to make a proper, intimidating impression on whoever he had invited. She knew she needed to change out of her loose sweatpants and oversized t-shirt, yet her legs absolutely refused to move toward her own bedroom.

Instead, her gaze kept drifting down the long, polished hardwood hallway. At the very end of that corridor sat a closed wooden door. Karl’s room.

’I should really get up and get ready,’ Dori thought, tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth and chewing slowly. ’He is going to give me that flat, unreadable look if his guests arrive and I look like I just rolled out of a dumpster.’

Despite the completely logical thought, she suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to check something upstairs, specifically Karl’s room.

It was a gnawing, mischievous curiosity that clawed at the back of her mind until she simply could not ignore it anymore. She wanted to know what his personal space looked like when he was not around to guard it, to see if he dropped the stoic, calculating mask when he was entirely alone.

She set the heavy ceramic bowl down on the glass coffee table, wiping the butter and salt from her fingers onto a napkin, and quietly pushed herself off the leather sofa.

The hardwood floor was cool against her bare feet as she padded slowly down the hall.

Her heart hammered a chaotic, rapid rhythm against her ribs, a reaction completely unbefitting of an assassin who had stared down crime bosses without blinking. Every step felt like she was crossing an invisible, forbidden boundary. She paused right in front of the smooth wooden door, taking a slow, measured breath to steady her nerves.

She reached out, wrapping her fingers around the cool metal handle, and pushed the door open.

When she stepped inside, she found everywhere as meticulously clean and organized as she would have expected from someone who calculated every single move he made.

There was no clutter, no clothes thrown carelessly across the floor. The air smelled faintly of his soap, a clean, sharp scent of cedar and rain that made her chest tighten involuntarily.

Her eyes scanned the space, lingering on the high-end gaming setup resting neatly against the far wall.

The monitors were dark, the mechanical keyboard pushed perfectly parallel to the edge of the desk. Beside it, the sleek, black VR helmet sat silently on its padded stand, waiting patiently for its master to return.

Looking at the quiet room and the polished helmet, a sudden, heavy wave of nostalgia washed over her. It reminded her intensely of the quiet days living with her family before everything had scattered and fallen apart. The absolute stillness of the room brought back fragmented memories of her childhood apartment, back when her father was still alive and the Black Snakes were just a distant nightmare.

She remembered how she would sneak into her mom’s room just the same, tiptoeing across the worn carpet to borrow a scarf or simply to sit in a place that felt unconditionally safe and warm. Standing here in Karl’s room gave her that exact same feeling of profound, untouchable security.

She walked slowly toward the center of the room, her eyes fixed on the perfectly made bed. The dark sheets were pulled tight, lacking a single wrinkle. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, feeling a sudden spike of guilt, before climbing up onto the mattress.

She lay down slowly, sinking into the soft, feather pillows, and allowed her eyes to flutter shut. She practically slept on the bed, curling her body into the center of the mattress, letting herself feel the lingering, comforting warmth he had left behind.

It was intoxicating. For someone who had spent her formative years entirely deprived of comfort, this bed felt like a sanctuary. She breathed in deeply, surrounded completely by his scent.

Then, a completely different, much more mischievous impulse crept into her mind.

She opened her eyes and looked toward the large, wooden wardrobe standing in the corner of the room. The naughty thought of checking inside his personal closet hit her with a sudden, irresistible force. She wanted to wear something of his, to wrap herself in his armor just for a few minutes.

She rolled off the bed, her bare feet hitting the floor softly, and walked over to the tall wooden doors. Pulling them open, she found his clothes hanging in neat, unremarkable rows. Dark shirts, plain jackets, completely devoid of bright colors or loud logos.

She reached out, grabbing his favorite oversized hoodie from its metal hanger, and without giving herself the time to second-guess the decision, she pulled it over her head and wore it.

The thick fabric was heavy and swallowed her slender frame entirely, the sleeves falling well past her fingertips. The hood rested heavily against the back of her neck. She buried her nose in the thick cotton collar, a foolish, uncontrollable smile spreading across her face.

Three sharp, heavy knocks echoed through the silent penthouse from the front door.

Dori froze instantly. Her muscles locked up, the foolish smile vanishing from her lips in a heartbeat.

’They are early,’ she thought, a sudden spike of panic piercing through her chest. ’Karl said they were coming, but not this soon. I am not ready for this.’

She looked down at the massive hoodie she was wearing, realizing she had completely failed her one simple task of getting dressed properly for his guests. But the knocking came again, louder and more insistent this time, and she was forced to go check who was waiting outside.

She hurried down the hallway, her bare feet slapping softly against the wood, and stopped just short of the entryway. She took a deep breath, schooling her features into the cold, detached mask she usually wore in the arena, and pulled the heavy door open.

Two tall guys were standing in the corridor.

They were both wearing expensive university varsity jackets, shifting their weight nervously from foot to foot. One of them had a distinct, fading bruise blooming across his cheekbone, right under his eye.

Dori recognized them instantly. She met the exact two people Karl had completely humiliated and beaten in the campus cafeteria just a few days ago. She had seen the video clip circulating on the community boards, watching Karl dismantle them without breaking a single sweat.

The taller guy blinked in surprise when the door swung open, his eyes darting from Dori’s vibrant pink hair down to the oversized, dark hoodie that clearly did not belong to her. He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to regain a shred of his usual campus dignity.

"Are you looking for Karl?" Dori asked, her voice dropping into a flat, unimpressed drawl that carried a clear warning.

"Yeah," the taller one said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her direct gaze. "He told us to come to this address today. We are here to talk to him."

"Talk to him about what, exactly?" Dori crossed her arms over her chest, the long sleeves of the hoodie completely swallowing her hands.

The second guy exchanged a highly uncomfortable look with his friend before turning back to Dori. He swallowed hard, clearly intimidated by the cold, dead look in her eyes.

"He told us to think about an offer," the guy muttered, his voice lacking any of the arrogance he usually carried around the university. "We are here for the job application to join a gang of sort."

Dori stared at them, her mind coming to a complete halt.

’A gang,’ she thought, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as she looked back and forth between the two nervous college students. ’Karl is starting a gang, and his very first recruits are these two campus idiots?’

"You have got to be kidding me," Dori said aloud, a humorless smirk touching the corner of her mouth. "You two want to be gangsters? You cannot even throw a punch without telegraphing it three seconds in advance."

"Look, we just want to see Karl," the taller one said, his voice tightening defensively. "He said there was money involved. He said we would get paid."

"Stand right there," Dori commanded, pointing a finger wrapped in excess cotton toward the hallway carpet. "Do not move a single muscle. If you touch anything in this apartment, I will personally throw you both off the balcony."

She turned around, leaving the front door wide open, and walked back into the living room. Her mind was spinning rapidly, trying to calculate exactly what Karl was planning. He had paid off the Black Snakes to get her and his mother out of the life, only to turn around and start building a syndicate of his own right in the middle of Barton City.

’He is insane,’ she thought, unable to stop the small, fierce spike of admiration that accompanied the realization. ’He is completely insane, and he expects me to help him train these fools.’

She walked over to the kitchen island, picking up her phone to send Karl a message, completely forgetting that she was still swimming in his favorite hoodie.