A woman's words-especially those of a professional terrorist-were never to be taken at face value.
If Ophelia were really that easy to win over, Ryden could retire early and wait for rich women to support him.
Still, building rapport was already a win.
If he could truly win her over, dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, or any other criminal organization would become much easier on his brain cells.
"While the iron's hot, let's head to the Spades Gang. I'll get you settled."
Ryden finished his tea and stood.
Ophelia smiled.
"So fast? Aren't you afraid I'll freeze you out of your own gang?"
"If we don't go now, are you planning to keep me overnight?" Ryden replied smoothly. "The moment I hand it to you, I trust you. Use those you trust, and trust those you use. Besides, if you're going to be my woman, I'd be embarrassed if I couldn't even do this much. Let's go."
He spoke boldly, expertly covering his lack of dating experience.
"In your dreams, rogue. Don't touch me until you're powerful."
Ophelia clearly didn't like men much.
If she didn't find Ryden tolerable, she would've shot him already.
"What counts as 'powerful'?" Ryden asked.
"Having your own faction is power. Or becoming a physical powerhouse works too." She paused. "I heard Schmidt is developing a Super Serum. Something that can turn a man into a superhuman. If you pull that off, then you can be my man."
Her voice was cold, but there was sincerity buried within.
"I only like people who are strong. People who make me feel... something."
Ryden's heartbeat skipped.
The Super Soldier Serum.
The ultimate shortcut.
Technology combined with mutation.
Mutation was unstable, but technology was controllable.
Most heroes gained power by accident.
He wanted control.
They walked downstairs together.
No forced intimacy this time, but the distance between them was smaller.
They soon arrived at the Old Sailor's Bar-the current headquarters of the Spades Gang leadership.
The place reeked of stale smoke and sweat.
A third-rate gang, with matching manners.
When Ryden and Ophelia entered wearing Hydra masks, the goons glanced over, confirmed they weren't enemies, and returned to their drinks.
Marlowe was in the office, happily counting money with Reed.
Recently, they'd expanded territory and launched a courier service in Brooklyn.
His men knew every alley and house number in the area.
Courier services wouldn't truly take off until after the war, but it was a start.
It gave uneducated, unskilled men a way to survive honestly.
"Master Ryden, please sit. Reed, bring ale. Would you like a cigar, Master?" Marlowe offered an imported brand.
He wouldn't dare light one himself. That would be disrespect.
"No need." Ryden waved it off. "From now on, she's in charge. Call her 'Madam.' When I'm not here, her word is law."
He made the introduction.
Whether she earned their respect was up to her.
Marlowe looked her over carefully.
"As you wish, Master. But... is she your woman?" He hesitated. "The boys are rough. If she lacks skill, they won't follow."
Before Ryden could answer, Ophelia laughed.
"Relax. I'll show them whose fist is bigger."
Ryden opened a bottle.
"I've already decided, Marlowe. Don't underestimate women-especially ones who've held guns. Go gather the men outside."
Ophelia cracked her knuckles.
Moments later, laughter burst out from outside.
Then came dull thuds.
Bone-crushing impacts.
And then-
Silence.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Marlowe swallowed.
That "glamorous" woman had knocked out twenty full-grown men with her bare hands in under five minutes.
This wasn't a show.
She was lethal.
Ophelia delivered a short, standard "new boss" speech outside, then returned to the office and downed two beers in a row.
"Refreshing." She wiped her mouth. "You can stop worrying now."
Ryden shrugged.
"I never worried. To your success."
They clinked bottles.
"Wait."
Ryden stopped her before she could drink again.
He crossed his arm with hers, like in a wedding toast.
"There. Now it's official."
Ophelia frowned slightly. "What does that mean?"
"A traditional Cup of Union." He grinned. "We're basically engaged now. I've officially reserved you."
He winked.
Ophelia's lips curved upward.
She didn't agree.
She didn't refuse.
She simply drank the beer in silence.
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