CHAPTER 630: CHAPTER 149: PURPLE HAS A CERTAIN CHARM

Meanwhile, in another of the hotel’s lavish reception rooms, an exquisitely tiled wall rippled like water. A man in an Italian suit stepped out of it as if walking through a veil.

"Young Master," Senor Pink said, bowing to the blond youth on the leather sofa. "I’ve swept the area. No anomalies."

His slicked-back hair didn’t have a strand out of place. The navy suit and deep red pocket square gave him a disciplined elegance far beyond his not-quite-twenty years.

Doflamingo pushed up his sunglasses and frowned. "What is that woman playing at? I’ve got a bad feeling." He took a cigarette from the table and flicked another to Senor Pink. "You’re sure there are no ambushes, no assassins?"

"Absolutely sure. I checked everything myself. Staff are occupied preparing for the banquet."

Doflamingo nodded. He trusted Senor Pink’s instincts more than most.

Unlike the other executives, Pink had an uncommon cool, a meticulous vigilance that let him handle the thorniest assignments without a hitch. More importantly, he’d earned the respect of that man.

Doflamingo’s feelings toward that man were complicated, but his judgment wasn’t in doubt. After Wano, he’d started watching Senor Pink closely and poured resources into him.

Pink hadn’t disappointed. As soon as they entered the New World, he mastered Haki. Coupled with his slippery Devil Fruit, his overall strength quickly surpassed Trebol and the others. That was why Doflamingo had brought him to the Queen’s banquet in secret.

"She says she’s introducing me to an ’interesting friend’ later... I wonder what kind of freak that’ll be."

A cold smirk tugged at Doflamingo’s mouth, as though he’d remembered something funny. "Heh, now I’m almost looking forward to it."

---

A sky full of cold stars.

A tall figure dropped from the heavens and touched down before the hotel’s grand entrance without a sound.

Darren took in the familiar lobby with a smile, smoothed his hair, and straightened his bow tie.

"Mr. Darren, at last," a man in a suit hurried out, bowing low. "Her Majesty has been waiting in the banquet hall."

Darren grinned, bit a cigar, and lit it. "Has she? Maybe I should keep her waiting a bit longer."

The man froze, stricken.

"Kidding," Darren said, clapping his shoulder. "Don’t be so stiff. I’m looking forward to Her Majesty’s hospitality."

Wiping cold sweat, the man spun and led him through the opulent lobby, under an arched doorway, and to the hall’s entrance. He stopped, bowed, and gestured inside.

"Her Majesty awaits."

"Thanks."

Darren nodded, a wry smile ghosting his lips, and pushed open the heavy doors.

A warm wave of perfume and spice washed over him. Tables groaned under delicate dishes; gauzy dancers drifted on a pool of soft light. Music winked off crystal chandeliers. Decadence hung in the air.

And still it paled before the woman seated at the center.

Her jewelry flashed like small, quiet stars; the cut of the evening gown framed every curve. An ankle crossed demurely over the other; bare toes toyed with the strap of diamond-studded peep-toe heels. She propped her chin with one hand and held a slender cigarette in the other, all lazy poise and sharpened grace.

"Vice Admiral Darren, it’s been too long," Stussy purred, voice husky, smile steeped in smug confidence. The narrow eyes behind it held a bewitching tilt.

She’d spent money and maneuver on this moment, even backing Doflamingo’s bid before the Gorosei—and tonight, she meant to savor his reaction at her most alluring, her most imperious.

She wanted him to see where the power sat.

Her smile bloomed brighter at the thought.

She could already taste the chess match, the elegant barbs over crystal and silver.

Hmph. So full of herself, Darren thought, the corner of his mouth quirking as he took her in. "Too long? It’s only been a month," he said lightly. "Already craving more?"

Thud.

Stussy lurched, nearly face-planting into the table.

The facade she’d polished to a mirror sheen shattered.

"Despicable bastard...!" Her teeth clicked; color surged to her cheeks, then vanished, leaving her white and furious. "Crude. Barbaric. Is this a future Marine Admiral?"

He didn’t stop.

Before she fully recovered, the Vice Admiral had dropped into the seat across from her, forked a heavy cut of steak, and shoved it into his mouth. Two chews, a swallow, gone. He grabbed a neat stack of oysters with his hands and slurped them down, manners nowhere in sight.

Two days in Little Garden with his giant brothers had turned eating into a contact sport. Dinosaur meat was fine, but the cooking—three brutes and a spit—was survival fare. Facing a table loaded with the Four Blues’ best, Darren’s restraint vanished.

And if you’re going to do anything, you start with a full stomach.

Etiquette? He’d misplaced it back on the island.

Watching him devour the spread, Stussy felt a pulse of heat she couldn’t name. She’d fussed over every detail—hair, skin, a gown she’d decided was her most stunning—and the bastard hadn’t even looked at her.

"Are you... just going to keep eating?" she hissed, fists clenched under the table.

Darren paused mid-bite, finally looked up from his small mountain of plates, and gave her a quick once-over.

"Mm," he said. "Nice dress. Purple has a certain charm."

To be continued...