Chapter 50 Unanswered Questions
"You had better forget that you ever heard that."
Vienna’s voice became clipped, her urge to overshare about her devotion to Emmanuel Sagres vanishing into an unsettled look.
That was easier said than done. I scrambled back, cradling my hand against my stinging cheek.
Emmanuel seemed like he was born giving out orders and expecting to be obeyed. Even when I tried to imagine him as a child, I imagined him in an expensive, bespoke suit, with his perfectly cultured accent, powerful and arrogant.
It was true that the name Sagres had been unknown before Emmanuel had made it infamous. Unlike the familias that ran the shadiest parts of East Windlem, before the days that Sagres ran everything.
"Is that a secret?" I asked.
"Emmanuel’s family background is not for the likes of you to know," Vienna bit back. "You don’t deserve it."
Something about that phrasing was a bit odd for an orphan, but I did not get time to think on it.
From then on, Vienna became a hundred times worse in the intensity of her ’training’.
——
Emmanuel POV, a few days later.
BANG.
Another leftover lackey of Marcus Turdin slumped to the ground.
"Strange," Dover said, shaking his head. "I would have expected that they would not put up a fight, with Turdin dead. What does it matter who they work for?"
"Unless Turdin was only a front, and their real master still remains," I mused.
"You think that Turdin had a benefactor? Someone behind the scenes?" Dover’s gaze sharpened. "Your...old enemies?" He said carefully.
Dover was one of the few people who knew my true parentage and the extent of my ambitions.
"They are too high and mighty on their hill to consort with the likes of Turdin," I said. "What did Chloe Brinson tell you?"
"She knows nothing," Dover said, shaking his head. "Didn’t even know what Turdin’s shop really does. And she was just on her way to buy college supplies that day, as she said. Seems like an unlucky case of wrong place, wrong time."
"Hmmm."
It did not feel quite right to me, but the life I led had made me paranoid to coincidences. Anything around me that I showed care for could become a weakness.
"Have you had the boys go through the paperwork from Turdin’s shop?" I asked instead.
"They’ve had a first skim," Dover nodded. "A few businesses and trade routes that we can absorb. It’ll offset the losses from the burned shipment nicely."
That, at least, was good news.
The efforts we made had to be worth the blood that my men had spilled, and the costs of persuading the police to look the other way after the very public affair that Turdin’s death had become.
"Anything suspicious in his books?" I asked.
Dover snorted.
"In this line of work, there’s nothing but suspicious on-goings in the books." With an amused pause, he said, "Come to think of it, you really wouldn’t do too bad as a police detective, Boss."
"Ha ha," I said flatly. "Pack things up. Back to the Tower."
"About time," Dover sighed, rolling his neck. "I could use a proper shower. And we’re running low on ammo."
I too gave a moment of thought to what was waiting for me at the Tower.
Soon, we got into the car and began driving back towards Central Island.
"Did Chloe Brinson mention her sister at all to you?" I asked idly as the car moved.
"Oh yeah." Dover shook his head, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "The girl can hardly stop talking about her sister."
"Oh?"
Could I have misjudged the girl in my first impressions? Perhaps, perhaps. The bunny was naive, but it was not contrived innocence.
"She’s a very talkative girl," Dover said with a note of weariness. "Hard to stop her from telling her whole life story once she got going. About how wonderful her sister Lara is and that she is trying not to spend Lara’s hard earned money and she’s working two part-time jobs before college."
I pursed my lips.
"Keep up 24 hour surveillance on her," I ordered. "And the mother, too."
"Look at you, Boss," Dover grinned. "It’s like you actually care."
One look from me and Dover reeled back his expression to something suitably neutral.
Silence fell in the car as Dover turned his full attention to the road.
"I care about gaps in my defenses," I said, checking the clip of my gun with practiced ease. "If you had a sister and a mother I would keep them on watch round the clock too."
"Touche. That’s why I said Vienna would be more convenient," Dover replied. "But I suppose a, uh, professional escort is going to be a better lay. And I’m not so keen on women who are capable of kicking my balls."
—
Lara POV
Thwack.
My kick connected solidly with Vienna’s thigh. Dead center, this time—not a graze, not a glancing miss.
A grin spread across my face, despite the sweat dripping into my eyes—
But Vienna didn’t even wince.
"That the best you’ve got?" She came back twice as hard, a jab that clipped my shoulder and spun me half a step sideways. "Try harder, bitch."
"Stop calling me that!" I stumbled back, arms up, barely getting a block in before her next punch grazed my cheekbone.
"I’ll call you whatever I like. Unless you can make me stop." She circled, unhurried, like I wasn’t worth speeding up for. "Can you?"
Despite my best efforts, I crumpled to the floor for the thousandth time. I hated feeling so weak.
Vienna laughed, low and ugly, circling me like a shark.
Then her phone rang, and she frowned as though reluctant to give me a reprieve. But it rang out again, and she stopped to answer it.
"Yes?" she said sharply.
I could hear the faint voice on the other side as I climbed shakily back to my feet.
"...surveillance...assassins...decoded..."
A few words jumped out from the other end, I couldn’t hear the rest.
"Have you sent word to warn them?" Vienna said, her tone turning urgent. "What? They haven’t responded?"