The Emptiness
The second basement of Ravens & Co. typically would be filled with noise, a swarm of activities going about. However, after three in the morning, a temporary silence would sink for about half an hour. It was the time for the gang members to switch shifts, quietly avoiding detection by the staff above them.
This window of time was Darcy's precious relaxation time.
But today, her mind was far from calm, occupied by thoughts of the hot shot across the street.
As she slumped onto the sofa in the lounge, attempting to shake off the persistent images of Cayden from her mind, she muttered to herself, "Darcy Raven does not hang on a man—no, she does not." Frustration surged through her as she wrestled with the unfamiliar feelings that had taken residence in her thoughts.
"But he— he was— ughhh," she groaned, slamming her hands on her lap.
The lingering image of Cayden's disapproving look chewed at her. Darcy wasn't one to care about others' opinions of her lifestyle, yet the way Cayden perceived her seemed to matter more than she could admit to herself just because of the unexpected softness she felt toward him.
"We don't involve innocent people in our business—we never do that; it's for the better," Darcy reminded herself sternly.
Cayden wasn't someone she could be casually involved with; he didn't belong in the same category as the usual men who hung around her private lounge, he was no punk or gigolo.
Maintaining her principles had always been crucial in her eyes, even for someone like her, the queen of the underground.
Yet, a problem lingered that demanded her attention.
Darcy had never encountered issues with men before. As long as the person in front of her was handsome, she had no trouble getting into the bed and receiving what she wanted. However, in the past month, she felt a sense of emptiness, a lack of enjoyment in such things.
Something was amiss, and she couldn't ignore the feeling that had been growing within her. Yet, she did nothing about it till now, convincing herself that it might just be a passing phase.
To think that this emptiness was the only method she had developed to keep her mind from tattering, especially in the face of the unsettling reality that her father, the man she despised, was alive and well. And now she had no other method to cast away her daily frustration.
Darcy dialed a number on her cell phone, waiting for the person on the other side to pick up. "Hello, Gabriel," she spoke, and suddenly, Dominic appeared from behind her, settling beside her on the sofa.
Darcy offered him a small smile, and he returned it instantly. The simple act of being alone together, with just an arm's length of distance, was enough to bring joy to Dominic's heart.
Like Darcy, Dominic was a permanent resident of the second basement, having his own private area. However, he always preferred spending time wherever Darcy was.
As Darcy adjusted her robe, one shoulder dropped, revealing a hint of her upper chest. Dominic's eyes widened, and he immediately averted his gaze, his face turning red and flustered. Darcy chuckled at his reaction, adjusting her shoulder back into place.
Dominic's heart raced as he tried to cool himself down, attempting to push aside any thoughts about what he had just witnessed.
"Yes, same old, same old. I called you to ask if anyone would be available right now?" Darcy inquired over the phone, and the smile that had been there on Dominic's lips instantly vanished.
That scenario was all too familiar for him.
Whenever Darcy contacted the brothel owner, Gabriel, a wish lingered in Dominic's heart. He wished she would use him to vent her frustrations rather than engaging with random men. However, his silent hopes were often left unfulfilled.
"Great, I don't have any specific requirements like always, but make sure that man is hella handsome. I don't think an average one would work tonight," Darcy chuckled, finding her own request somewhat absurd. She swiftly ended the call, leaving Dominic pouting, a tinge of anger in his eyes as he stared at his entangled fingers.
"What's with you?" Darcy asked, sensing his mood shift. Dominic sighed, shaking his head, choosing to brush off the feeling even though he wanted to confront her.
He longed to ask if he wasn't handsome enough for her, or if he simply wasn't worth her attention. Yet, he knew that voicing these questions would only lead to disaster.
Darcy held a certain power over him—one simple order, and he would be at her feet. However, she remained disinterested, and the painful truth lingered in the air, undeniable and challenging to accept for Dominic.
...
Darcy sighed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, with no real focus. Her robe was disheveled, and so was her black wolfcut, mirroring the state of the bed sheets. Yet, what was out of her awareness was the chaos within her own heart.
"Maybe men wouldn't work anymore," Darcy pondered, considering a shift in her usual choices. However, she quickly dismissed the thought. "Wait—maybe I should try getting with women instead—" The absurdity of the idea struck her, and she burst into laughter at the mental image. The truth was, it was not to her liking at all.
"After all, I'm the daughter of none other than Kobe Raven," she sighed, and her heart ached with the weight of that singular fact.
The fear of becoming like her father haunted her, and with each passing day, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was transforming into a reflection of the man she despised.
The strength she held, surpassed that of anyone else, and it had been developed on account of her mother's memory. That poor woman had endured the torment inflicted by Kobe and wept on countless midnight hours when he would abandon her for his numerous mistresses.
"I wonder when all this nightmare will die down," Darcy mused, contemplating the haunting shadows of her father's legacy that clung to her present.
The struggle against becoming the very thing she loathed was an ongoing battle within her soul.
Kicking out the nth man from her private lounge, Darcy stood beside the aquarium filled with piranha fish, draped in her purple velvet robe.
She took what she wanted from that manwhore, but she was still feeling that same emptiness inside of her like something was lacking. The fulfillment that came from the physical pleasure was no longer there.
A lingering emptiness tugged at her, a sense that something crucial was missing from within.
"Just fuck it. I need to find a new hobby to pass my time," Darcy mumbled, her frustration evident.
...
"Boss, there is a guy at the reception causing commotion and demanding to meet you," one of Darcy's underlings informed her, causing her head to throb.
Persistent men seeking more of her after a night were nothing new, and Darcy was exhausted of the repeated disturbances, having never entertained a man for more than once.
"How difficult is it to quietly get rid of someone so pesky for you?" Darcy glared at the man, who cowered under her gaze, well aware of her temper.
"But Boss—" he attempted to speak again, only to be abruptly cut off by Darcy.
"BUT WHAT!" she shouted, her patience already worn thin. The underling stammered, trying to convey the man's request without further provoking Darcy.
"He— he is saying that he needs your help and that his name is Cayden," the man spoke hurriedly, hoping to avoid another outburst.
Darcy's eyes widened, and without uttering a word, she shot up from her seat and rushed to the elevator, to get to the ground floor. The underling heaved a sigh of relief, grateful for the fact that his life was spared.
...
"Sir, how many times do I need to remind you that you can't go to the chairwoman's office without a prior appointment?" the security guard sternly addressed Cayden, holding onto his collar in an attempt to escort him outside.
Cayden, however, remained persistent in his stance despite the security guard being twice his weight.
"Leave him," Darcy's authoritative voice intervened as she approached them, followed by two female underlings.
The security guard, sensing Darcy's disapproval, hastily released his grip on Cayden's collar.
Cayden breathed a sigh of relief and hurried up to Darcy, who maintained her stoic expression. She couldn't afford to let anyone, especially Cayden, know that she was affected by his presence in a certain way.
"H-- hi--" Cayden greeted, his nervousness evident as he fidgeted with his fingers.
"Let's not waste our time here. Quickly cut to the chase," Darcy responded, unintentionally sounding sharp. After all, it was the only language she knew.
Cayden felt a pang of disappointment at her tone but he reassured himself thinking she must be acting that way because he came to disturb her busy schedule.
"Actually, I need your help, but I can't talk about it here in front of everyone." Cayden's distress was palpable, his forehead sweating, and Darcy wondered if he had a pressing issue at hand – perhaps the thugs come back for extortion or maybe some other urgent matter.