Chapter 100:
After Harlee departed, the puzzled bodyguard asked, “Mr. Walker, this…?”
Matteo raised his hand, signaling the bodyguard to step back.
“Uwhor is too calm and quiet at the moment. I’m bored. I might as well entertain myself by engaging in her little game.”
Matteo had figured out that Harlee was actually Quick Cameo.
“Heh.
How interesting.”
Harlee instructed Ritchie to handle the informant Matteo had arranged while she claimed a spot at the bar to wait for Rhys.
Rhys’ message read, “Take your time. I’ve got some things to wrap up myself. Meet me here in thirty minutes, okay?”
Harlee nursed her custom-blended cocktail, her gaze sweeping across the crowd moving rhythmically on the dance floor.
As time slipped by, the bar became crowded with people.
Seated alone and captivating as ever, Harlee inspired a few unwanted stares from those nearby.
A circle of affluent and influential men, known for taking advantage of women in bars with shady tactics, spotted her and quickly hatched a plan to make her the evening’s conquest.
Their smoothest talker sidled up to sit beside her, ordered a vodka, and feigned interest in the bustling scene around him. Seizing an opportune moment, he leaned in with a smile.
“Hey there, gorgeous. Why are you drinking all by yourself? How about joining us for a bit of fun? We could hit the dance floor, or maybe even step outside for a bit… What do you say?”
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“Outside?” Harlee replied, placing her glass down and flashing a coy smile, her tipsy demeanor only heightening her charm.
“Sure, I’m up for some real fun. Let’s take it outside.”
Ritchie, who had just returned from handling Matteo’s informant, paused in confusion. Was Harlee itching for a fight to let off some steam? Choosing to keep a low profile in case his captors took notice, he resolved to leave, trusting Harlee’s abilities to handle these lewd men.
Unlocking his phone, Ritchie sent a quick message to Harlee, keeping it brief: “Wrapped up for now, heading back to unwind.” He then strolled out of the Galaxy Bar, not sparing a glance behind.
Outside the bar, Harlee narrowed her eyes, scanning the overeager men like they were mere puppets devoid of life. She halted at the mouth of the alley, her eyes alight with mischief. Several live targets had practically delivered themselves to her doorstep.
Such a golden opportunity shimmered before her, offering a chance to refine her lethal talents. These men, unaware of Harlee’s strategic absence, were vividly outlining their night ahead.
A sudden shout from one of them pierced the night, snapping the group into the realization that Harlee was missing. The boldest among them reached for her, his fingers grasping at the air.
“Hey there, stunner,” he sneered, motioning toward the darkness of the alley.
“You can’t seem to get enough of this, can you?”
Harlee’s reply was a coy tilt of her head, her smirk veiled in shadow. Spurred on by her feigned interest, the men chuckled darkly, exchanging crude tactics.
Eagerly, they plunged into the depths of the alley.
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