Victoria stared at Nash across the desk, and that silence was getting heavy. She finally let out a slow breath, like she’d been holding it forever.

"You’ve talked a lot today, Blaze," she said, and her voice was weirdly calm.

Then she stood up smoothly, and started walking around the desk. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, and Nash watched her like she was a bomb about to go off.

"You lost the privilege of being stupid," she said. "At this point... I got nothing left to lose. So I’ll tell you everything."

Victoria reached the door and turned the lock with a quiet click.

Nash felt it instantly, the shift in the air. This wasn’t just her talking. This was a threat wrapped in pretty words. Whatever she said next? It was gonna change everything for him.

But at least he was finally getting answers.

She turned back to him, and her eyes, those bright blue eyes, almost looked like they were glowing.

"You’re right," she began. "I’ve got deep ties with Apex Record. They let me do pretty much whatever I want down here... Because technically, I still work for them. And whatever I’m doing with the Midnight Rest? Not their problem, especially since I couldn’t take full ownership."

Nash frowned.

"Apex Record’s an Upperworld company. So that means... you’re from the Upperworld?"

Victoria stepped closer, so close her perfume filled his nose, something expensive and sharp. She lifted her golden hand and brushed two fingers along his chin, tracing his jawline. Her touch was weirdly gentle, like she was petting a stray cat.

"Half right, little rat," she murmured, smiling. "My biological father was from the Upperworld. Another idiot who committed the greatest sin his kind allows: having an affair with a nobody from the underground. My mom."

She let her fingers drop and walked around him, her voice turning colder with every word.

"People down here dream about the Upperworld like it’s paradise. They think if they win the Blood Star Invitation, they’ll get welcomed like heroes. So stupid." She snorted. "Ever stop to think what you actually are to them? Rats. Smart rats, strong rats, rats that put on a good show... but still rats. Would you let a rat into your house just because it’s stronger than the others in the sewer? Of course not. Most of them wouldn’t. The only value you have is entertainment. That’s why the entire world pours billions into Breakball. That’s the whole purpose of the Blood Star Invitation: they pick the very best rats, put them in golden cages, and the rest can rot. You’re not a lucky dog who found heaven. You’re a golden rat in a cage."

She circled back in front of him, leaning against the desk and crossing her golden legs.

"I was born from that mistake. My mother was one of those rats. She got picked during a Blood Star Invitation. Some executive fell for her... or said he did. Brought her up. Told her he loved her. Gave her a place in his household as a... special maid." Victoria’s lip curled. "You can guess what that meant. No rights. No one to complain to. A warm body that couldn’t say no without losing everything in the worst world."

Victoria laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound, more like metal scraping against bone.

"But lust doesn’t last. Not when there are consequences."

She tilted her head, like she was deciding how much to spill.

"But that’s not the juicy part, right?" she teased. "That’d be a long, boring story. You wanna hear about Harlan."

Nash didn’t look away.

"I want to hear it." He shook his head slightly, then scratched at his hair, like he was trying to shake off the tension. This was getting messy, but she was talking now. No guarantees she’d talk later.

"I wanna hear everything about you," he said. "So that I can trust you."

Victoria’s smile widened. She stepped closer, so close her breath warmed his skin.

"Now you’re getting greedy," she murmured.

Then she pulled back, walking away with slow steps.

"To them, rats from the underground are just toys. My mom was another street rat who thought she found her knight in shining armor. Handsome, powerful, rich. She was starving for hope, so she believed him. She was beautiful too, curvy in all the right places. And most importantly? A rat, so no human rights. No one would accuse a respected Upperworld man of abusing a rat."

Her voice turned icy.

"So she became his maid. His toy. He could do whatever he wanted to her without consequences. But lust fades. And when you play dirty? The dirt comes back to bite you."

She stopped by the window, staring at nothing.

"Then she got pregnant. But the guy already had a wife, a child, a whole empire. A kid from a dirty affair? It was impossible. So he ’arranged’ an accident and my mom died. Convenient, huh?" Victoria laughed. "It’s just a guess. But way more believable than her randomly dying when she started asking for a better life."

She turned back to Nash.

"That idiot rat thought going up there meant freedom. Instead, it led her to a different kind of cage. And when she tried to become intelligent... it led to her death. See? Different choices, different outcomes."

Victoria walked toward him, her golden fingers tapping against her thigh like she was counting seconds.

"After she died, I was stuck with a father who wished I never existed. Went from ’special maid’s kid’ to trash. they put me to work before I could read. The other maids found out where my mom was from... and they made sure I paid for it. Every. Single. Day. Beatings. Humiliation. Starvation. They broke me real good."

Her voice was steady, but Nash could hear the anger simmering underneath.

"Then after a few years? I got sold off like furniture to another rich family. Funny thing, the guy who bought me? It was the son of the man who killed my mom. My half-brother. Hector Perez. Current CEO of Apex Record."

Victoria’s gold-plated fingers tapped the desk once, just once, before she moved closer to Nash. She had this way of moving that made you pay attention, like every step was in between seduction and tension.

"Hector Perez," she said. "My half-brother. When I was sixteen, he got me assigned as his personal maid." She exhaled, like the memory stank. "He made it his mission to humiliate me every day. It started small, he made me scrub floors while his rich friends watched, spilled food on me on purpose. Called me ’rat’ right to my face in front of everyone."

She stopped talking for a second, her eyes going somewhere else, like she was seeing it all again. Then she blinked and came back.

"I always figured our father told him about me. How else would he know? Only that old bastard knew the truth." Her mouth twisted. "And he spilled it. Because shame’s gotta travel down the family tree, right?"

Victoria moved even closer, her hip brushing the edge of the desk. She tilted her head and gave Nash this smile, the kind that could either melt you or cut you, depending on her mood. One gold finger reached out and traced his jawline.

"Hate and lust," she murmured, "they’re two faces of the same coin. For some men, the best way to destroy a woman is to release all that twisted hunger onto her body."

Nash’s face went tight.

"Did he..."

"No." Victoria stepped back, holding up a hand like she was calming a spooked animal. "He tried. Oh, he tried. But he never got farther than words." Her smile turned razor-sharp. "His precious reputation was the leash. What kinda future CEO of Apex Records gets caught fucking his own half-sister? A rat to boot? The scandal would’ve buried him. So he stayed stuck between his dick and his daddy’s empire."

She hopped up onto the desk, her dress sliding open just enough to show toned golden thigh as she crossed her legs. Leaning back on her hands, she watched Nash through half-lidded eyes.

"So he tested the waters. Started joking at parties about ’punishing’ Underground girls the old-fashioned way. Said it was the only language rats understand." She snorted. "Turns out even Upperworld trash has limits. People gave him looks. They think we’re animals, sure, but actual crimes still make them squirm. Then his fiancée heard one of those jokes and lost her mind." Victoria mimed an explosion with her fingers.

"Poof. Billion-dollar marriage alliance gone if the wedding didn’t happen. Apex couldn’t afford that, so they decided to remove the problem. Me."

Her gaze drifted to a framed picture of a famous breakball player on the wall. For a few seconds, her face showed no emotion.

"Stuck up there alone, I had nothing. No friends, no future. But I learned the best trick: how to play the perfect idiot." She tapped her temple. "Smiled sweet, obeyed orders, listened to every secret while they laughed at the dumb half-breed maid. And while they weren’t looking?" Her gold fingers curled into a fist. "I collected weapons."

Sliding off the desk, she got right up in Nash’s space again. She put one hand flat on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"I want revenge, Nash. Plain and simple. Power enough to make every bastard who shamed me grovel at my feet." Her eyes burned. "The easiest path, the only path, is breakball. That sport is the one gate where where you come from doesn’t matter. They’ve invested so much money into it that even the Upperworld elite treat a talented rat like treasure. Money flows like rivers through this game. Control the game, and you control pieces of the world."

She leaned in, close enough that it looked like she might try to kiss him at any moment.

"I’m beautiful. I know when to play stupid. After that childhood?" She smirked. "I did exactly what you’re doing now. Learned to wear masks. Seduction. Lies. Blackmail. Clawed my way up the corporate ladder same as you." Her nails dug lightly into his shirt. "By twenty-five, I was somebody new, fresh identity, ruthless reputation. I took over a mid-tier breakball team. Fixed matches. Bought refs. Traded favors like poker chips. Everything was going so well, I was gonna be a league executive."

Her fingers traced slow circles on his chest now.

"That’s when I found Dahlia. Another Underground maid from some other rich bastard’s house. We didn’t need words. Same hunger. Same scars. So I took her with me."

Victoria stepped back, her nails scraping the desk like claws, leaving faint marks in the wood.

"But I committed a huge mistake. I dropped the idiot act too soon. People saw the sharp woman behind the mask, before I was ready to face everyone." Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Hector noticed me. He was running the company by then. He couldn’t let his favorite lost climb too high." She shrugged. "He didn’t expose me, that’d risk his own secrets. No, he dug in my stuffs, and found every dirty trick I’d ever pulled, every fix I’d made. Leaked just enough to league commissioners and sponsors." She mimed a collapse with her hands. "Boom. ’Unethical practices.’ ’Player exploitation.’ Sponsors fled overnight."

She laughed, bitter and short.

"Even got a personal letter from him then. But I never opened it. Reading it would mean acknowledging him. So I shredded it." Her gold-plated fingers flexed. "I knew what he wanted. And I wasn’t giving it."

She looked away for a bit, as if she was considering something, then smiled and walked to a hidden cabinet, pulled out a stupidly expensive bottle of wine and two crystal glasses. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

She poured slowly, the liquid glug-glugging and handed Nash one glass. He stared at the dark red liquid like it might bite.

"So... is there rodenticide in this?" he asked.

Victoria burst out laughing, a real laugh for once, shoulders shaking, eyes crinkling. It was so sudden, and both out of place and in so character that it actually took her by surprise.

"Relax, little rat. I’m not killing my ticket to success." She sipped her wine. "Not unless you give me a reason."

Nash took a careful sip, exhaled.

"Got it. But, you’re still under Hector? Even down here?"

Victoria leaned against the window, watching neon lights below.

"When I fled back down here, I was determined to rebuild everything I had lost. I needed money and influence immediately. I had gathered plenty of intel on Upperworld companies with interests in the Underground. The Midnight Rest was perfect: small, dark, not important enough in Apex’s overall revenue to be closely guarded. It was an old business held by a random pawn simply because the paperwork existed."

She glanced at him, clearly amused.

"Harlan Reiss was merely Apex’s errand boy at the time. The kind of man they sent to manage places like this. Places where they sent girls who couldn’t pay their debts." Her eyes sparkled. "Sound familiar? Like your Baby-Boom girls."

Nash’s jaw clenched, but he stayed quiet.

"I started coming as a customer. Turned down every man who approached me to built my ’untouchable golden woman’ reputation." She twirled a finger near her temple. "People get obsessed over things they can’t reach, so I knew this was the way to reach a blue nosed rich guy in a world of rats. Harlan quickly came to me, and I kept rejecting him, letting him hanging. And just as planned, he got obsessed. I played him slow, let him get close, never let him touch. Until..."

She hesitated. Looked down at her glass, fingers tightening. For once, her reluctance seemed real.

"I set him up," she said quietly. "I made it look like he tried to rape me. And I edited the security footage perfectly." Her voice dropped. "He never touched me, that’s one line I’ve ever kept. But it was convincing enough. I told him to hand over the Midnight Rest or I would ruin his life. He had a family. A promotion on the horizon. He had no choice but to agree."

She walked back to the window again and stared out.

"Everything was perfect. I thought I had finally won. But..." She turned, leaning against the glass. "I had made the same mistake. I’d stopped playing the perfect idiot too early. When we went to his place to sign the documents, Harlan had time to think. He contacted Apex Record. They identified me immediately. They told him my entire past, the scandals, my connection to Hector. He came back armed with leverage. He threatened to spread my full story through the entire Underground breakball league. No one here would care about Upperworld gossip in everyday life... but sponsors, team owners, elite players? They would care. A manager carrying that much baggage would be the true rodenticide down there. My dream would die again before it could truly begin."

Victoria took a last sip of wine, set the glass down with a soft clink.

"But surprisingly, he offered a deal: I act like the manager. He keeps legal ownership. I run everything, make all the decisions, collect the profits, fund Blacklist... but I work for him. I keep him comfortable. Stay under his thumb. And we both knew the order came from higher up. Hector. This way he could watch me forever. Own me without dirtying his own hands."

The silence that followed felt heavy with everything she’d dumped between them.

Victoria moved closer than before, close enough that Nash could feel her breath. Her hand rested on his chest again.

"Now you know everything," Victoria murmured.

She stepped even closer until her body was almost pressed against his. One golden hand slowly slid up his chest, fingers tracing the line of his collarbone.

"I want revenge, Nash. Pure and simple." Her thumb stroked slowly along his collarbone, almost possessively. "I want enough power to make every last one of them kneel at my feet."

She tilted her head, for the first time, her smile was real, slow, dangerous, and undeniably seductive.

"With you..." she whispered, leaning in until her breath brushed his lips, "no matter where I go, I could always succeed. No one would refuse me if I had the ultimate winning insurance in my hands."

Her golden fingers slid higher, gently cupping the side of his neck. She rose onto her toes, pressing her body fully against him, her breasts brushing his chest as she brought her face dangerously close.

"You... are the only thing I want."

Her lips hovered just a breath away from his, so close he could almost taste her.

"And I’d do anything... to keep you."