Charlotte didn’t say a word.
Donald stayed quiet too.
They stared each other down, not even blinking. The air felt icy, so thick with tension it was hard to breathe.
Cotton, standing off to the side, could sense the sudden shift. He glanced up, first at Donald’s cold, sharp face, then over at Charlotte, who looked completely relaxed and a little cocky, almost bored. Cotton couldn’t help the surprise flickering in his eyes.
In The White Whale, Donald was practically a legend. Even the most seasoned members got nervous just being around him.
But Charlotte? She didn’t look bothered at all. If anything, she seemed to radiate her own kind of authority. Not only was she not scared, she looked like she might actually be challenging him. The energy between them was so intense, Cotton had to lick his dry lips, feeling more uneasy by the second as he watched Charlotte.
Donald’s expression shifted slightly, and Cotton rushed to break the silence. “L, she’s here.”
Donald nodded, his gaze locked on Charlotte. He noticed the “91” on her badge and narrowed his eyes. “You’re the winner of the kickboxing match?”
Except for her being a woman, Charlotte’s look and the way she fought reminded him of Reaver.


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