Arabella dragged Julius to an abandoned sports field at the church, swinging her legs and gripping the overhead rail. She climbed with agility, her clothes riding up, nearly revealing her full undergarments.
Julius stood below, immediately averting his gaze. It's improper. But even a fleeting glance made his heart race.
And he dared not walk away.
On one hand, Arabella climbing the abandoned rail was very dangerous; on the other hand, the place was remote, and Arabella, as a young woman, couldn't be left alone.
Arabella stood high above, looking down at the people below.
Her manner was old-fashioned and stifling, especially urging one to lift the veil of that awkwardness, exposing honesty and sincerity.
Honesty about desire.
Arabella had a wicked thought and casually let go, as though she had lost her grip and was falling.
The place where she fell was clear: Julius's panicked, outstretched arms.
It was truly warm.
As autumn's chill began, Arabella's body was warm, and falling into yet another warmth stirred up a double heat—intensely arousing.
Julius had a sharp, heroic look in his brows and eyes, with deep-set sockets that gave him a completely different expression. His features were more on the intense side, and once he stopped smiling, his sharp features gave him a slightly piercing look, enhancing his mysterious and unpredictable aura.
Julius hurriedly caught Arabella in his arms, but after doing so, he quickly tried to push her away. His ears turned red, and his neck flushed; he was utterly flustered with embarrassment.
Arabella was direct, sealing his lips with a kiss.
Arabella's kissing technique wasn't top-notch, but this time it was full of playful intent.
She extended her tongue, slowly tracing the contours of Julius's lips. Though he immediately pressed his lips tightly together, it didn't stop her from savoring him.
This time, she wasn't in a hurry. Instead, she softly teased, clinging to him, licking and sucking, as if she had all the patience in the world to wear him down.
Of course, Julius couldn't outlast her.
Arabella stole his first kiss, and after that night, he had been unsettled ever since.
He was afraid he couldn't hold on.
In truth, he should have stayed far away, but when he saw her, he couldn't bring himself to leave.
He shouldn't have stayed, yet he couldn't bear to leave.
Finally, after being worn down by Arabella, he was completely overtaken.
His tongue moved passively, as he tugged between reason and physical desire, trembling.
The sound of saliva startled him, filling him with panic. He shoved the person in his arms away, but restrained his strength, afraid of hurting Arabella.
Arabella knew exactly what he was trying to do when he acted, and didn't resist, allowing him to push her away.
What does it matter? Step by step, slowly but surely, there would come a day when he would fall to his knees beneath the hem of her skirt.
Arabella was at ease, her intentions hidden beneath her calm demeanor.
*
After toying with the rabbit for a while, Arabella started to focus on the task at hand.
She found a phone booth in a secluded area on the street, and after ensuring there was no unusual activity around, Arabella dialed Taras's number.
It rang for a long time before being answered, and the person on the other end was still catching his breath.
"Who is this?" Taras asked curtly, not recognizing the caller.
"Busy?" Arabella asked plainly, as both she and Taras were straightforward in their approach.
"Arabella?" The noise around him immediately quieted down, and Taras tried to steady his breath, his tone filled with excitement. "I've been waiting for your contact, dying from anticipation. Next time, you have to give me your contact details."
"Once this deal is done. Are you finished?"
"Bullshit, I'm at the gym, full of energy with nowhere to release it. Master Unknown, you'd better make it up to me."
Arabella furrowed her brows, feeling a bit blamed: "What does your impotence have to do with me?"
Taras wiped the sweat from his forehead, cursing under his breath when he heard Arabella's response—this woman really didn't understand romance.
"Ever since I tasted your flavor, other women have seemed bland in comparison. I just can't get it up, Master Unknown."
"Oh—" Arabella responded coldly, then added, "Well, that sounds like a problem, maybe you should go to the hospital and get checked."
Taras, clearly at a loss for words in response to Arabella's indifferent reply, shifted the topic, asking, "Are you ready to move the goods?"
"Yeah. Still going as planned. Do you have any undercover agents from the four countries hiding in your ranks?"
"Which gang doesn't have cops as undercover agents? In the past, the Abyss and the Destiny were at odds, and the police sent were just for surveillance. After all, in our territory, the underworld and the law have always been interconnected, no one interferes with the other. But now, the Abyss dominates, and all four countries are throwing people at me like crazy. Just the other day, they even slipped in some soldiers from the military. It's obvious they're soldiers—am I supposed to pretend I'm blind?"
Arabella's eyes lit up when she heard "soldier." "Which country sent them? Why would they use a soldier as an undercover?"
"It's from Viskomo. Haven't you heard? Their army recently staged another coup. The new leader is ruthless, and he's vowed to bring you and AE to justice."
"Viskomo?" Arabella was somewhat surprised by the response. That was a country she indeed wanted to establish a foothold in, but it was governed by a military regime, highly powerful. She had always bypassed this nation in her dealings with AE, communicating through the neighboring country, Fandel.
Fandel had one of her secret bases.
The problem was, why would they send an undercover agent all the way across the ocean to Taras?
As if sensing Arabella's doubts, Taras spoke up, "You've gained quite a reputation here recently. They sent someone through a roundabout way, trying their luck in capturing you."
Arabella chuckled, amused. She had been struggling to gain a foothold in Viskomo, but if she used their own tactics against them, it would be a two-pronged victory.
"That one, I like."
Taras, now a little displeased, said, "Just so you know, the one I'm sending isn't for your bed."
Arabella readily agreed, "Fine. No playing with stray cats or dogs."
Taras knew that Arabella's promise was empty, just words with no real weight.
After chatting for a while, Arabella agreed to meet Taras and have a fierce intimate battle of thousands rounds, after which Taras hung up the phone, satisfied.
*
Justice is absolute.
But it is humans who uphold justice.
Humans are relative, and far too complex.
This makes justice seem somewhat lonely in the face of evil.
The one who swears to overcome countless obstacles and venture into the dangerous lair of bandits is even more solitary, yet paradoxically, must possess unwavering determination.
They march forward with unwavering righteousness.
Ever since Merrick witnessed his colleague being boiled alive, he had become increasingly cautious.
He knew that if he failed, he would lose more than just his life. He would lose the hope of justice itself, and that responsibility drove him to endure all hardships.
When AE assigned him to follow the goods, his heart raced.
Following the goods meant he could track the entire process. If he captured everyone at the final transaction, it would be such a thrilling achievement.
But soon, he sensed that something was wrong.
He was AE's man, and being sent into the notorious team of "Master Unknown" clearly crossed a line.
Before infiltrating, he had investigated AE. Their origins were shrouded in mystery. A few years ago, they suddenly emerged in the southern underworld, swiftly and forcefully annexing other drug trafficking organizations, ultimately seizing control of the entire southern drug market.
AE had previously done some small business with Arabella, but in this chaotic world, their deals barely made a ripple.
But this time, when he moved the goods, he realized the volume was enormous—it was clearly a major deal.
Who was the other party in this deal? Where would the goods be sent?
After reporting to his superiors, they instructed him to continue tracking the lead and mentioned that foreign law enforcement would make contact with him.
After memorizing the code for contact, he quietly followed the goods to Arabella's location.
It was clear that he had been marginalized, even secretly being watched by Arabella's people, every move under surveillance.
It was not easy for someone who had crossed the line to still be alive.
What scared him was AE's attitude—why had they chosen him?
What did this seemingly trusting yet extremely dangerous move really mean?
