Revenge Wears Red Lipstick-Chapter 163: Golden Boy

Jacob was all over his mother.

After what had transpired a few hours ago, it was obvious the little boy was deeply traumatized. His small arms wrapped tightly around Katherine’s neck as if letting go even for a second would cause her to disappear. His body trembled every now and then, silent sobs shaking his thin frame.

He had witnessed his father die—right in front of him—along with two other men whose blood had stained the floor of the house he once thought was safe. He was only seven. Far too young to understand death, let alone process such brutality. The images would linger in his mind for a long time; Katherine knew that much.

She held him close, rocking him gently as though he were still a toddler. Her daughter rested in her other arm, warm and peaceful, completely unaware of the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Katherine had already breastfed her, and the little girl was now sound asleep, her tiny fingers curled into the fabric of Katherine’s blouse.

Katherine herself was seated on a wooden bench just outside what remained of her house. The air was cold, biting against her skin, yet she barely felt it. Everything inside her felt numb—her chest hollow, her thoughts scattered, her heart painfully heavy.

The cars that had carried away the bodies of Mason and the two hoodlums were already gone. Their engines had faded into the distance, leaving behind an eerie silence that rang louder than the earlier chaos. Only two cars remained parked nearby. One belonged to Dante. The other was driven by a different set of his men.

That alone made Katherine wonder just how many men Dante had brought along to clean up the scene. How much power did one man possess to erase something like this so efficiently?

She felt Eva’s gaze on her from a few feet away. Slowly, she lifted her head, their eyes meeting for a brief second. Katherine’s chest tightened before she tore her gaze away, shame and resentment mixing uncomfortably in her stomach.

Eva sighed softly and turned to face Dante.

"We should help her," she said, her voice firm but gentle.

Dante cocked an eyebrow, disbelief flashing across his face. "Help her?" he echoed. "You’ve already helped her enough. You saved her life." His tone was factual, cold. "If I were in your position, after everything she’s done, I would’ve let her die."

"Dante!" Eva exclaimed sharply, startled and panicked that Katherine might have heard those words. "She’s still my sister."

That was exactly what Dante didn’t want to hear.

Because of that single fact, he couldn’t deal with Katherine the way he truly wanted to. If it were anyone else—any other woman who had caused Eva so much pain—he wouldn’t have hesitated.

Dante didn’t budge. Instead, he lowered his gaze, avoiding Eva’s eyes entirely.

"Dante," Eva called again, this time softer, her tone tender and pleading. "We need to help her."

"She’s a runaway. The police are after all. I already covered her medical files at the hospital just as you’ve asked," he reminded. Two weeks ago, after almost getting run over, Eva had pleaded with Dante to have Katherine’s tracks covered just so that the police wouldn’t find her and take her away. "And you already said she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. So, why would you bother yourself with her?"

Katherine’s eyes blurred with tears when she heard Dante’s voice. They were standing over ten feet away and he didn’t bother to keep his tone down at all, almost like he wanted her to hear every little thing he said.

At first, she didn’t want to have anything to do with Eva. Even now, she didn’t want to have anything to do with her, but she needed all the help she could get. Mason was dead. She couldn’t afford to go to jail and leave her children to wander around the dangerous streets of Lexora.

"I didn’t want any of these to happen," she suddenly said, interrupting Eva who was about to say something to Dante.

Both their heads turned to glance at her.

"I didn’t choose this life. I never wanted to live like this," she continued.

Dante stared at her with disgust evident in his expression, wondering what sort of tricks she could be cooking. Eva had lost all her will to punish Katherine since she found out they were sisters, but that didn’t mean she had lost his.

Eva took a step towards her but paused, looking back at Dante, her eyes pleading.

"Please..." She muttered.

Dante grunted with a sigh as his shoulders dropped in defeat. Not like he had a choice.

"I’ll find a place," he responded.

Two hours later...

Dante’s car was parked in front of a modest but well-kept bungalow. It was one of his properties—something he’d purchased long ago with plans to resell in the future. Now, it was being handed over to Katherine.

"This is where you’ll be staying," Dante said flatly as he stepped out of the car. Eva followed him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"The house already has everything you need. Food, electricity, water, basic amenities." He paused, glancing at Katherine. "Security is tight. I’ve already briefed them about your... situation. Don’t do anything that draws attention to you until we find Mason’s boss."

Katherine stared at the house in disbelief. It felt unreal—too clean, too safe.

"Not only that," Dante added, "I contacted a therapist for Jacob." His gaze dropped to the little boy clinging to his mother.

Despite his hatred for Katherine, he had nothing against the children. They hadn’t chosen this life.

Eva’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d planned to arrange that herself, yet Dante had already thought of it.

She linked her arm with his and pulled him closer. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Anything for you," he replied, kissing her forehead.

Katherine turned to Eva. "Thank you for arriving," she said quietly. "If you hadn’t... I wouldn’t be alive."

Eva nodded, still slightly taken aback. "I’m just glad I got there in time."

They entered the house together, leaving Dante outside to answer a call.

"What is it?" he asked.

"He was poisoned," the caller said.

Dante stiffened. "What?"

"For the past two weeks, he’s been getting into fights with inmates—victims of his past crimes. One of them poisoned him."

Dante cursed under his breath. His father being poisoned in prison wasn’t good news. Not because he might die—but because it created an opportunity for escape.

"Keep watching him," Dante ordered. "Update me constantly. Keep him cuffed at all times."

He ended the call, dread settling in his chest.

**

It was nighttime and the brothel was lit up with flashy lights and talk shows while the people who were rendering services called for the attention of the potential clients.

Some were lucky while some weren’t.

Ryan walked through the street, and unlike the first time he’d come there, this time around, no one dared to call out for him, much less look in his direction.

After he’d attacked one of their people, they’d made sure not to come close to him.

Ryan didn’t pay them any attention as his main focus was on the brothel he’d been kicked out of the other day.

The sun had already set on the horizon, leaving a golden orange line above.

Unlike the first time when he’d dragged Rico out of there without thinking, this time around, he was coming there as a customer.

Hopefully, the bouncers who escorted him wouldn’t be the same ones on duty that day.

When Ryan reached the entrance, he sighted unfamiliar faces. He sighed in relief, glad that they weren’t the same men from days ago.

He walked in and he wasn’t stopped, fucking making him relaxed.

The space smelled of cigarettes mixed with alcohol and sweat, together with other chemicals he couldn’t quite decipher. Either way, it was choking and uncomfortable to be in such a place.

Just as he’d expected, the dancers were already on the pole, moving their bodies in angles that garnered them attention.

The men sprayed money after the dancers while they screamed and demanded that they continue.

One man sitting right next to Ryan stood up and yelled out loud, "Take off your tights!!"

Ryan couldn’t believe his ears.

He closed his nose when the man took a seat and puffed the cigarette he was holding with his hand through his nose, towards Ryan’s direction.

"Is this your first time here?" He asked Ryan, who acknowledged him with a side eye at first before ignoring him. "So you are. I can tell from your outfit. No one comes to the brothel with casual jeans and a t-shirt. Look at everyone here, we’re all dressed in suits." Then the man scanned Ryan as if he was of lowlife. "Unless you’re broke. Let me give you a piece of advice. The boys here are expensive, especially the golden boy. So if you’re planning on having him, you’re going to spend at least fifty grand for one night." Then he hissed as he downed his liquor. "Donnero just had to increase the amount. That bastard."

Ryan’s eyebrows were furrowed together in confusion.

"Who’s the golden boy?" He questioned. He was here for Rico and since much he shouldn’t bother himself by knowing who bears such a name, his curiosity needed to be satisfied.

Before the man could respond, the lights turned off. The music turned off as well, immediately changing to a new one as fog was released onto the stage.

The spotlight landed on a figure on the stage, dressed in red tights, looking more seductive than the other dancers. When his face became evident, Ryan clenched his fists under the chair.