♰ THE SERPENT ♰

"You really do want that yacht trip in Monaco." There was entertainment watching Melissa and Adriana battle it out.

"It always seemed like such a waste that you never dressed up as John Wick."

It was if her blood ran cold, she cared none for the rest of them. Only that one name printed opposite Benjamin's. It both stopped her breath and changed the thumping close to her sternum. All she could do in that moment was shake her head.

"No."

There were many questions she wanted to ask, her eyes instantly finding the balcony. And for one moment, she didn't care who noticed what she was doing. She simply stared. To where Lara was to be sitting. Why would she do that? To spite Melissa? If so, this was no longer fun and games.

"I certainly did not."

“That depends,” he said, low and deliberate, “On whether I like the colleague," he didn’t look at her at first—just let the words hang like smoke between them. Then his gaze ticked over, dark and assessing, a flicker of something softer tucked beneath the usual sharpness, "There’s a difference between watching someone fight because it’s what they’re made for… and watching someone get sent into the lion’s den when they shouldn’t be there yet."

Óscar paused. Letting the crowd's noise muffle out all thoughts. Even if for the briefest of moments.

"You don’t have to say it," he added, quieter now. "I know what this fight means. To him. To you."

His jaw flexed once, molars tight.

"And, if Vinnie gets too comfortable out there, I’ll handle it."

Another sip. Another slow roll of his shoulders.

"Just make sure you’ve got someone on standby to sew me up after."

His answer was enough to draw an unexpected burst of laughter from Melissa, such honesty, and an answer she, herself, would've given. Hand raising to cover her mouth as she did, habit from fancy dinners and social events. Class followed her like her Chanel perfume, some parts of her would never change. "Apologies," she offers, before she reaches for her drink and takes a measured sip. "I don't know what came over me. Please, continue" it's the way she'd been brought up, to always play host. To be respectful, and above-all-else, masked.

Ben had in fact been chucked into the lion's den with this one.

There was a feral instinct in her to question Lara on her choice. He was, after all, one of their own. But it would be wasted energy, and a needless venture. One did not question Lara Rutherford's choices when it came to fight club. Especially not after the loss of Amir.

Instead, she'd bore the repercussions of his dance with Étienne.

"Thank you for not making me go over it..." again. Most had wondered about the bad blood, it wasn't common knowledge. Only those Melissa and Ben had told were in the know about his parent's death. But now, more knew than either of them had intended. Her face remained emotionless, as she asked a passing server for another two drinks for the both of them. "And the offer with Vincenzo — he's been a pain in my backside ever since..."

She didn't speak of that night. But she was sure Óscar knew.

"I'll make sure you're looked after as best as I can." turning her gaze to him, she assessed for a moment. "How're you feeling about it? Confident?"

FOR: @msmelissalin EVENT: Fight Club 2025 WHERE: The Underground | During Fights

It was almost time for Benjamin to be up. His first year. A thought that hadn't been lost on the bodyguard and made his way through the crowd to where Melissa was seated. Óscar didn’t say anything at first—simply settled into the seat beside Melissa. He grasped a glass of reposado in hand, the rim kissed with lime and patience. Only a few more rounds and the bodyguard would soon find himself in the ring. Perhaps a scolding from his favorite distraction would help.

"Didn’t peg you for a ringside regular," he said eventually, eyes still on the latest fight brawling out before them. The low light caught the amber in his drink—and his eyes, sharp as ever when they finally flicked her way. "But then again, this place does have a flair for the dramatic."

His eyes flicked over to Benjamin as the younger man prepped in the corner, "You tell him you’d break his legs if he lost?" his tone very apparent in its teasing.

Never ending, soul eating: but to see her, back rod straight and lips pressed into a thin line – Melissa Lin was a statue.

Étienne Canét had killed Benjamin’s family.

Étienne smashed Melissa’s jaw until she’d needed it wired shut.

…Étienne was a sore subject for the duo.

Melissa’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Four years ago, she had stormed through the fight club double doors, to find her ex-husband being patched up. Things had changed over that span of time: Jonathan wasn’t painting the city red…for now. Time had a way of mutating things, changing people-- some for better, some for fucking worse. Now, she avoided Johnathan when she could, even when the circumstances made it impossible. Afterall, he was the boss and she was his handler. Even if most in the organization believed she was the one that required babysitting these days. 

It was easier to focus on the others. Like Lara, sat upon her balcony like a high queen.

She's alive. The flash back of her walking from a tomb at the last Fight Club before they'd felt the lose of Amir.

However, the scrap of the chair brought her back to the present, turning so dark eyes found his. “I don’t mind violence, I just don’t actively participate." Vincenzo. "Unless they’re Italian.” Or going after her pseudo-sons – not that she’d ever admit that out loud. As much as she wished Gideon to be involved in this life, satisfaction could be found when she found him nowhere within the vicinity. So much like his father, and yet so vastly different. She never joked about the situation with the Italians: but it was Óscar. 

“No, but I might find someone to break his opponent's legs if he comes out too damaged.” she wouldn’t, but Melissa told herself that to ease the panic. There was no humor in the smile that fell upon her lips, she couldn’t find it with  Not when it came to Gideon. She would never tell him the depth of her motherly love towards the boy — she didn’t even voice such things to Benjamin, even if he knew without having to say anything.