Chapter 33

Sevina

I’m absent, but not enough to brush off Corrin’s attempt to stash his unease. The last thing I wanted was to scare him. After all, I did in his… Father… right in front of him. But I had no choice and I’m not sorry. Reid deserved to die. I reign in my thoughts. No, this is not my thought. Not my anger.

I don’t know if he deserved to die, but if I let him live, other people would suffer. He had to go down.

I am sorry.

I wish for a way to explain to Corrin everything, to show it the way I see it. If only he had enough nerve and strength to take it.

He doesn’t. The strings in his sensitive head have been tinkered with, pulled and stretched far too many times to count, least be touched again.

Though I am exhausted, my brain keeps devouring and devouring the information with less effort than it took before. I can even observe the world outside the car window; a sunlit freeway running above the suburbs. Havason port; a long strip of a mirror, white hangars like shimmering rectangles of white light, reflecting the morning sun. Seven months ago I had to take time for myself and look down to digest the information. First time I saw Corrin’s life I fainted! I can only presume I got used to it. My abilities stretched like my resilience to all within others.

What will happen to me now? Lots of things I said I’d do.

Leave Havason, I used to remind myself.

For two hours Corrin and I both hunch at our separate sides, glued to our windows. Snoozing, I clutch my palm, savoring the remains of warmth from Corrin’s fingers.

By the time our cars pull to a stop by the garages and the personnel’s house the sky clouds over again and a heavy downpour reaches the ground. I open the door, my gaze catching on gray shoes and damp pant legs. Marty holds out an umbrella above my head, reminding me of the bizarre fact that I declared myself the leader of Corrin’s mafia family. And the men, greatly mistreated by the former boss, accepted me.

Marty extends me a hand, but I abruptly shake my head as I scramble out by myself.

It’s creamy walls stained in dark wet spots the mansion is exactly how I remember it to be; yellowish bushes line the corners and opulent ornaments trick out the casement windows and entrance doors.

Two more cars came to a stop behind us and I walk toward the one Will’s seated in, instinctively half-expecting her to jump out yelling at me. When the men brought her to me she was exhausted, bruises dotting her face and probably the rest of her body. I told her that she’s safe and that I’ll take her to the hospital ASAP. She found her footing and it took her a minute to regain her orientation, but she gripped the situation quite fast, from Reid dead to the absence of Dan, and the men following me. “No,” she let out. “Do what you have to not to end up dead. I’ll be fine.”

And I still might. If I don’t deal with Dan.

Seven men from Reid’s personal escort exit the cars. Two of them help Will out. Quint climbs out after her, his face alert and his dark eyes on the look for anything fishy.

Hastily, four men leave the personnel’s house and one climbs from the booth by the gates.

“Marty, what’s going on? Who are these kids and where’s Boss?” One of them asks, a tall black fella with a distinct tattoo on his neck. He steps dangerously close to me and Marty.

“Boss is dead, Gert,” Marty says by my side, firm but calm. “This lady killed him and she’s in charge now.”

Four men gathering around Gert, including the guy from the booth, frown with confusion. A few reach for their guns, observing other men who are already on my side.

“What?” Gert scowls. “What’s this bullshit? How?”

“She knew the boss and has a lot of personal intel on us,” Vary answers, his accent strong, as he and two others move to the rear of one of the cars. “If we kill her it’ll spill to everyone.” Men from the personnel’s house exchange glances. One starts to speak but a winded scream, bursting from one of the cars, interrupts him.

“She’s lying about everything!” Dan rams his feet into the gravel. “I’m in charge of you like my father was, you work for me and I can bury you!” Unbiased, the men lead him into the personnel’s house. A lean mid-aged maid jumps aside, her head pivoting at the commotion. “She’s a nobody!”

Should I say something to vacillate their detest? The ride was long. Reid’s mindset evaporated leaving only what I’ve learned. And there were far more important things to learn than speaking manners.

“Well, is she lying?” Gert’s gaze falls on me and some part of me wants to hide behind Marty, but instead of giving in I face Gert’s angled eyes.

“About your pregnant prostitute friend?” I widen my feet, hiding my hands behind my back. Well, this guy apparently loves women. “Or another one of your prostitute friends. Or that third one.” I throw my eyes at the maid behind him. He’s attached to her too, or rather to long conversations with her of his dark past while she cooks. “Or your old grandma back in New York. She’s not as safe as you thought she was.” My head begins hurting a great deal.

Gert recoils. “What the—“

Sounds of a fight echo from the personnel’s house, quickly subdued by a few strong thuds. I hope the men won’t inflict any major injuries on Dan, but I also shouldn’t stop them from doing their job. Not while they can still turn on me.

Vary walks out, dusting off his palms. “Told you, man,” he says at Gert’s dumbfounded expression.

“All right.” Another man lowers his hand from his weapon, still apprehensive. “We’ll we continue to get paid?” He looks from Marty to me.

“Yes,” I state. “As long as I’m alive all I know is safe and you get paid and treated properly.” From what I remember we can afford that.

“From what we did to Dan, I think it’s safe to stick with her now,” Vary adds, trotting to Will, who leans against the car under the umbrellas of other men.

With a faster thud of my heart I pivot to Will.

The lean maid is already next to her. “We should take her into the house.”

“I’m fine.” Will shoves her aside the way only Will’s allowed to do. “Just show me to the bed.”

“You’re still hurt,” I covertly examine her face and slouched posture.

Will flutters her lips. “You’re all so bloody annoying.” She forces her way past us and makes a few wobbling steps forward.

“She’ll fall,” Marty murmurs.

Vary looks at me. “Should I carry her?”

Recalling it wasn’t Vary who beat her and for Will’s safety I nod. “Will, Vary will help you out.”

As she pivots with a what expression overtaking her face Vary scoops her up. She yelps, but doesn’t protest as she wilts in his arms. Doesn’t even flip me off.

“Tia has nurses training as well,” Corrin walks over to me, his wet hair glued to his forehead. “She’ll take care of her.” The maid— Tia. Right.

“Come.” Tia leads them into the personnel’s house.

“Go keep an eye on her.” Marty nods to two other men. “That’s all.”

Jumbled murmurs escape a few men, but they obey and scatter to their posts. I’m grateful I have Marty on my side.

Under Marty’s umbrella, dripping with water, I trot to the mansion with Corrin and Quint on my heels. In the hallway I arch my head at the vaulted ceiling. The place is bigger than I remember and with downpour muffled behind the thick walls, eerie silence washes through us and something in me hollows. I get a hint of what it might be. I’ve entered a dead man’s house.

Behind the staircase at the far end of a long hall a chubby maid in brown garbs rounds a corner. As she takes us in, her wrinkled face which she’s probably used to keeping flat tries to conceal excited interest. “Corrin?” She exclaims, opening her arms in a greeting. “Marty? Who are these people?”

“She’s in charge now.” Marty’s hand lands on my shoulder. “The boss is dead.”

“Oh, my,” the maid gasps. “Welcome— ” She purses her lips. “Miss?”

“Sevina,” I say.

“Sevina.” She shakes my hand. “Welcome home.”

I shudder. None of these people give a damn. It’s as if an expensive painting on the wall or a diamond got supplanted with a new one. Everyone marvels at it, but no one does anything with it and yet it’s the most valuable thing with a dozen eyes and guards on it.

The maid reaches for my coat, but I stiffly take it off.

Corrin next to me stomps in his spot, benumbed. Quint strides forward, leaving wet footprints all over the floor. “This is where you lived all your life?” He spins around, his head cocked back. “I can get used to this!”

Corrin walks forward to the staircase, still disoriented at what to do or where to go. Quint keeps skidding across the marble floor.

I almost chuckle, but Marty’s shadow leans in next to me. “Boss, a word?” I want to ask him not to call me boss, but instead I just nod. “Follow me, please.” Corrin and Quint both want to join me but I shake my head.

“I’ll be quick.”

My legs slow when Marty cracks the door to Reid’s study. Averse, I walk in, my eyes meeting two ancient swords decorating the wall right above a huge desk.

I turn to face Marty. “Yes.”

He straightens. “With all due respect don’t assume I did what I did out of charity.”

Of course not. “Yes.”

“I know your intel comes from something you can do as Reid said.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “No matter where you got that intel from, I expect you to honor what you said to me in the hangar. Keep my intel safe and let me leave,” he pauses. “Or I’ll—”

“Or you’ll come after me,” I cut off softly. Marty’s quite desperate.

“I will.” He understands that I have no idea what I’m doing, that I need him and he still holds some power.

“Don’t worry about it. You are free to go. I won’t talk, and I’ll leave you alone,” I confirm to his ease, but then search his face. “But help me out for the first few days. Till I talk to Dan and get the IT to do the papers.” I don’t remember Marty’s security numbers anymore, but I still have a sense he’s a decent man, if not for his former boss and all that he had to do. From torturing people to shooting Corrin in the leg. “Please.”

He nods. “Okay.”

I breathe out with relief.

“You have to talk to Dan.”

“I’ll talk to him, but not now.” I need to rest, I need to think about all I’ve learned. Talking to Dan now would be like stumbling drunk into a bar and trying to pick a date or win a fight. “Can I talk to him tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Until then don’t let him talk to other men?” Dan could still persuade them to his side.

“Yes, boss.” Marty shoulders the door and we both halt when Quint and Corrin pivot away, innocent grins on their faces.

“Old habits die hard, huh?” Marty says on his way out. I examine the door, despite being wooden it’s quite thin, so Quit and Corrin probably heard it all.

“Check on Will? Willow… the cop,” I call after Marty, making sure he knows whom I mean.

“Will do.”

“Anything I can help you with, miss,” the chubby maid inquires, strutting to us.

“She could do with some rest,” Corrin answers for me. It’s barely midday and I haven’t slept much during the last night. I nod, giving Corrin a warm look and let the maid lead me away. A smile strains his lips and I feel a pang of guilt again. I made him watch his father die.

“I’m Liz.” The maid swings her body up the huge helical staircase to the second floor. “Excuse me for my curiosity. I wasn’t expecting anyone that young to… take control.”

I am not taking control, I want to say. But I am.

I don’t answer and Liz stops bothering me.

Two huge shepherds gallop downstairs, their nails clanging against the marble. They circle my feet, sniffing, and I let out a gasp of alarm, flattening myself against the wall. One doesn’t see dogs this big on the streets. It’s mostly puppies people throw away, but rare one survives to grow up.

“They don’t bite.” Liz shoos them away. I wonder what would happen if I looked one of them into the eyes? I’d rather not try and turn into a dog for twenty minutes.

The dogs bolt downstairs, sliding across the floor as they twist their bodies to the kitchen. Barking follows and Corrin’s startled gah! turns into a fond hey, buddy! Then he orders Quint to climb off the counter and put down the bottle.

At the turn of the corridor, Liz invites me to one of the many bedrooms.

“Can you show me to the bathroom first... please?” A huge double bed with crimson sheets all but beckons to me, but I’d love to take a hot shower first and wash off the stink that over the months has grown into my body.

“Right here, miss.” Liz beckons to the door on the left of the bed. I creep in, unsure, and Liz shows me around to where the towels and all the appliances are. The room’s prepped for any guest.

“We’re short on female clothing your size, though.” She measures me with her eyes, sizing me up and down.

“It’s okay, I’ll wear this.” I gesture at my tight, but smelly and worn clothing.

“Oh, no, no, miss.” Liz hammers her point by scolding me with her finger. “No one respectable walks around like that. And you want your men to respect you, don’t you?”

“Is all here about respect and fear?” I ask, perfectly knowing it is. It was how Reid ran things, but I don’t have to. Respect has many shades to it. As does fear.

“Oh well, the boss was strict. Most of the men are used to it by now.”

I should take her advice.

She strides to the long golden curtains and slides them open with a considerable amount of effort. “I’ll find something for you to wear.” She cracks one of the three casement windows. “Would you like anything to eat?”

“Uh, something digestible would be good,” I smile.

Once Liz leaves in the enormous bathroom I throw my clothing onto the cream-tiled floor and step into a huge shower cabin. A console requires some tinkering until I figure out how to use it and let a warm, dense stream hit my head and my body. My muscles relax and I don’t recall hot water ever being that blessing.

I stand, observing my body. My hair is below my shoulders now and my belly has some definition as do my arms. Even my hips feel smaller and lighter, but perhaps that’s just what was under my fat and I actually became even weaker. A blue blob sits on my belly from Marty’s punch. It hurts a little, but it’s nothing compared to the beating from the ganger.

I got punched, I got tortured and I didn’t even recall the beating in the foster care. The beating that haunted me for years.

I scrub myself for solid forty minutes until each inch of me sparkles, then, wrapped in a huge white towel, I unlock the door and peek into the room. It’s empty, but by one of the windows I find a tray with steaming soup and some mashed potatoes, meat, and veggies.

The room’s openness throws me off. I’ve never stayed in a place this massive before. Even the furniture— a nightstand, bed and a dresser of light wood— seem small in front of tall walls and windows. Yet the warm palette, altering from white to gold, puts me at ease, for some reason reminding me of hot summer vacations Corrin would travel on.

I lock the main door and sit on the windowsill with a bowl of soup in my hands.

Puddles dot the backyard and my stomach lightens when I see Corrin, wet from the rain, throw a stick across the yard, the dogs barking and racing after it. Quint stands under an umbrella with a fat sandwich in his hand and a thick black coat on his shoulders.

Corrin passes him a stick to throw and Quint flings it left off the yard straight into the pool. One of the dogs dives after it, splashing water. A distant curse reaches my ears as Corrin looks cross at Quint who just shrugs.

“I’ll throw you in.” I hear Corrin joke as he helps his dog out.

I sip on my soup, loving the spectacle. A rare low-class kid knows how to swim, me included. So surely, at the promise of large quantities of water Quint perks up and marches back into the mansion. Before Corrin disappears after Quint, I catch him smile. Not a strained, pulled apart smile, but a beaming one, the one I saw back in the restaurant.

Content at Corrin’s peace, I let myself relax and wander my attention to the end of the compound, where the solid fence meets the forest. The kite memory took place there. Not a memory. It happened. I’ve been there. I was in the arms of a woman, lapped in beauty, and love, and warmth.

The soup in my hands trembles and I’m powerless to cast off the chimerical sensation. It’s Corrin’s memory, his life. Not mine.

…

A knock on the door increases in loudness, forcing me to lift my head from the spongiest pillows that ever caressed my face. I tried to think the night before, come up with a go plan, but all I did was sit in silence, drifting off.

Now, in the morning, no one’s interfering inside my brain and I feel fresh and focused. I’m glad all the things wore off overnight.

I’m me. Just me and my goal— help and save people.

“Miss?” Liz’s voice. “Miss, are you okay in there?”

“Uh, yes. Come in!”

“It’s locked, miss.” Right, I locked the door.

I drape myself into my blankets. Liz said they have pajamas, but I forgot and slept naked. I wasn’t instructed to wear them, so no harm done.

A roll of sheets, I slither to the door and unlock it.

Liz carries in a bunch of clothing. “Good morning, miss.” Next to the door she taps the console on the wall. Curtains, which I had drawn shut before going to bed, slide aside, shedding the light into the room. Perhaps Liz likes tugging them open?

The sky’s overcast, clouds rifting for lonely rays of sunlight that dye the atmosphere in pink.

“You’re quite a heavy sleeper, aren’t you? Asleep for more than twenty-four hours.” So it’s evening.

I sit on the bed, now feeling a bit too exposed. “I guess I needed rest.”

“Corrin said not to wake you.” Liz puts the clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

“Come in.”

The door cracks open but no one comes. “It’s Cane,” a gruff tone, “uh… Marty. Good evening.”

And with that I recall I’m not in the van or the creaky bed but in the mansion of a man I murdered.

I too now count as a murderer.

Weird.

“It’s Dan, boss, I think it’s really time you talk to him. We can’t keep him in there forever.” Even behind the door I can tell Marty’s urgent.

“Wait, in where?”

“In the cell, where else?”

I gape. “Why did you keep him… ah, doesn’t matter. I’ll talk to him in a moment. And don’t call me boss.”

“If you want to keep your status better keep a serious face.” Honesty fills his words. “Dan’s smart, if you can’t handle him he’ll handle you faster than you know it. And then we’ll have a bloodbath here on the lot. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Okay.” I keep my tone level, hiding the growing nervousness. The least of all things I know what I’m doing and it still might put people I care about in danger. I need someone to help me. Someone who knows things, but whom I can still keep under control.

Dan is my only option.

Liz leaves and I dress in the bathroom. I washed my underwear in the sink just like I got used to in the hideout and the warehouse. I guess, once my status is sorted out I’ll need to go shopping.

Though a little lose the clothing fits. A turtle neck sweater is probably the lean maid’s—Tia’s. A blazer and pants must be hers too. I’m all raven black and covered, except for my brown hair and eyes, that stand out most from my pale skin.

Downstairs I find Marty waiting for me. A black coat hangs over his arm and a holster with a silver gun. I had given him the gun yesterday in the warehouse before I sat into the car with Corrin. “You want it?” He offers me the weapon. With a rancid tingle in my stomach I take the holster, hesitantly weighing it in my hands.

Marty sees my unease. “Okay, let’s do this.” He takes out his black handgun. “I’ll take this shiny thing and you take mine, okay?”

That would be better. “Okay.”

I slide into the holster and fasten his weapon under my arm, as well as magazines. As I shrug on the coat I catch a whiff of wood and pine, mixed with a masculine touch I so well recognize. It’s Corrin’s.

“Where’s Corrin?” I ask as I follow Marty outside.

“Liz’s making dinner, he’s got to be in the kitchen. Go ahead if you want to eat.”

“No, let’s go deal with Dan first.”

We stroll into personnel’s house only to hear a curse, that kind of curse a man mouths when he loses all his money.

“You don’t mess with cops.” Will gathers all her winnings from the table in the kitchen. Quint sits sulking with his fingers entwined, all his betting’s lost. Five men share the poker game.

“You kill them right away,” another man barks.

I stop by the table. “She’s in charge of you all now.” Seems logical to make Will the new head of my security. The men fall silent as if they noticed a bomb.

“Answer her.” Marty almost roars by comparison to my timid tone. A round of yes, boss comes from the table. “Good.”

Will and I exchange subtle glances. She seems okay, bruises on her face still bright, and I wonder if she’s planning to take revenge on the man who pummeled her when she was kidnapped. He’s nowhere to be seen though. Must be on patrol.

Marty and I descend into the basement. “Put more power into your voice, like you did in the warehouse,” Marty suggests, more of a teacher’s advice than a reprimand.

I never bossed people around and now it’s my new job. “Yes, I should… I will.” I have no choice.

“Here.” Marty shows me to the metal door and I scare.

“You kept Dan in there for over twenty-four hours?”

“We did let him relieve himself a couple times.” Marty shrugs. “Don’t worry. He’s quite lively.”

“Seems quiet.”

“We gagged him.”

Chills run up my back at the cruelty. “What? Why did you do that?”

“You said to keep him from talking,” he says.

“That’s-that’s not what I meant! I meant not to let him talk to the other men.”

“A gag works fine in those situations.”

I roll my eyes.

“Need assistance?”

“No.” I swallow. “You have a knife?”

“Sure.” From his inner pocket Marty digs out a black switchblade. “I’ll wait here.” He slides open the door and the stuffy chamber hits me, shrinking my lungs. Leaving Marty outside, I take in whatever air swept in from the open door and flick on the light. Were they hoping to make him sleep in the darkness?

Dan faces away from the door. His wrists are zip-tied and a thin rope runs around his upper arms, restraining him to the back of the chair.

Damn it. I take a mental note on being explicitly clear with my instructions to my men.

Step by step, I round the chair. Dan’s head hangs low and I think he is asleep. Or unconscious.

I reach for his shoulder and shake him. With a wheezing sound deep from his chest he jerks awake and quickly surveys the surroundings, then a shadow of pain crosses his face and he tries to double over as if his abdomen is hurting. I think the men didn’t spare him a proper beating.

My body half turned to him, I stare at this tortured man in front of me. I’m not scared of death, but all in between can still be petrifying. My first instinct is to untie him and take him into the fresh air. Now he’s the drunk one in a bar, but it might work to my advantage.

Heaving through the gag, Dan squeezes out a few broken words. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He arches his brow.

I collect myself and take out the knife, opening it. Dan’s chest falls, expecting violence. “It’s okay.” I come from behind. “They beat you?” I cut his gag and throw it on the ground.

“Of course they beat me, you know not all of them liked me that much.” Dan spits to the other side indeed quite lively. “Think they’re going to miss a chance to get at me and escape punishment?”

“Escape punishment?”

He laughs, the sound catching in his dry throat. “What do they have to be afraid of? Look at yourself. Think they’re going to be scared because you declared yourself a new boss? A little nobody who thinks she can just kill the boss and take everything because she has some powers? You…how old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen? Dumb enough to put yourself into this situation. You are worse than Corrin. Corrin was dumb even after I saved his life. Even after I gave him the damn chance to leave. I should’ve just killed him. It—”

I punch him so hard in the face it sends him sideways to the ground with a painful thud.

For a second I’m scared I knocked him out, but he coughs, grimacing.

“Shit.” I shake my hand in shock as I kneel to him. “Shit, are you alright?”

He gasps a breath, eyes unfocused.

I recoil. “Marty!”

He enters. “Good job.”

“Can you pick him up?”

He lifts Dan’s chair and reaches into his pocket. “You don’t have to hurt yourself to hurt him.” He puts a roll of thin wire into my hand. “We also have plastic bags, tasers, and electricity prods. The pool is also an option, but I don’t think the maids will approve.”

“Uh…I’m okay. Please leave.” Marty complies and I shove the wire into my pocket as if it was hot iron.

Feeling bad for Dan and my hand I pivot away, squeezing my nose bridge. A folding chair stands leaned against the wall. “Shit.” With growing guilt, I take it, unfold it. Take off my coat and sit in front of him. “Why do you have to be such a dick?” Should I be intimidating? Should I try and talk soft? How do peaceful interrogations work?

I lean in closer to Dan’s bruised face, readying myself for the first and only option. “Look me in the eyes.” Dan shakes his head. “Look at me, Daniel.”

“Go to hell.”

“Dan, I can help you. Let me do it.” I try to rein in my sadness. “You’re scared, I know.”

“Oh, I’m scared, so what can I do about it!” He barks. “What can you do?”

“I can,” I say. “I can do everything… anything.” Corrin said those words to me back on the roof. I guess I can truly do a lot. “Just look at me.”

His weaknesses, soft spots are essential if I want him to join me. I need to know what makes him feel safe and what are his true motives. Most of all, I need to repeat my insufficient knowledge about this business family.

I could go with that wire. Ask Marty to strangle him a little till he’s half-conscious…

The disgust at myself that surfaces from this thought is stronger than being privy to all the intimate moments in other people’s lives. This place is affecting me. I don’t do things like that. I don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it.

What? When did I establish that I hurt people at all?

Wasn’t it I who said we’re not killing anybody?

I huff a rigid breath and notice Dan’s deep green eyes, standing out from his olive skin, tracking me. “You’ve hit a wall,” he whispers, sly.

“Would it help you if I told you something about your kin? Family bonds?” I weigh my words.

Dan’s shoulders tense against his restraints. He must’ve put up quite a fight for the men to actually tie him to a chair. “You mean make some things up? Why should I believe you?” Yet his face fills with anticipation.

“Didn’t you find it weird that Corrin and his mother just appeared overnight? No dating, no marriage, no honeymoon. Do you even remember her being pregnant?” I cross my legs, trying to appear dismissive.

Dan frowns, searching his memory.

“I have no reason to lie, Dan.” I tilt my head and lift a finger at my eyes. “Do it and I’ll tell you something that might change you.” My voice gains an enigmatic undertone. He hesitates and despite myself I take out a roll of wire and rotate it in my palms. “Sooner or later you’ll have no choice but to do it. I’d rather it’d be a painless choice.”

Dan observes the wire and after I hit him he understands that I’m serious. He lifts his eyes at me, drained and pink. His life and his fatigue engulf me and for five seconds I feel like I’ll faint, but it passes.

A sheen of sweat gathering on my brow I scan his life. And the more details I pick the less sorry I am I killed Reid. I see him torture Dan in cold water after he stole some guns and Dan was just a teen. Or when Dan beat the man to death with his fists during his trial and hit the other one with his car till he was dead. The cold pride and silent hate he felt for his father when he came back after those three years in the streets, but all Reid told him was I made you better. And Dan believed that Reid honestly, parentally, wanted for him to be stronger, wiser.

“Lots of shit in that head of mine, right?” Dan utters as I sit leaned back, watching the wire in my hands. “Your pity won’t help.” My face must be distorting with sympathy.

Poor son of a bitch, the bastard. “I’m sorry,” I bite out. Out of all the men I saw, he had it the toughest.

“Sorry?” He laughs, his leg bouncing. “You’re not sorry, no one is. People here are ruthless animals that will never allow you to relax. Not even for a minute. They’re not sorry.”

“Is that why you trank yourself to sleep each night?” Dan became a drug addict. Heroin.

Dan’s eyes widen and I softly say. “Corrin told you I know everything.” I let it sink in. “I know what IT’s are, what I have to do to become an official boss of the family. I can force you to give me the access and dump you in prison. Without your heroin, without your safety, or power,” I speak gently, but despite the coiling disgust in my heart force myself to add, “I could watch you rot.”

Periodic tremors shake Dan. He’s been off his heroin for a while. “You bitch.” He sucks in a rigid breath.

I almost confirm his statement to myself out loud.

But I was a meek brat after all…

I stand and walk out into the corridor. “Say, Marty, do we have heroin?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“In Dan’s car there is a pack under the seat next to some guns. Can you bring me two shots?”

“Sure, boss.” Marty heads off. I lean against the wall, listening to men’s curses ringing from the poker table upstairs. I’ll get through this.

Heavy footsteps echo, descending. “Here.” Marty handles me two injectors— a smaller dose and a bigger one.

I thank him and slink back into the interrogation room. At this point Dan’s white shirt is plastered to his body with sweat, and his jaw is shut tightly, keeping the pain in. It was Marty who beat him since he’s the one who’s got beef with Dan over leaving. Dan just tried to intimidate me by saying all and everyone hates him and I have to be scary for them to follow me. I don’t if I do it right. If I give a poker table to one and better pay to the other.

But that’s just fifteen men, the security. What of the others? The actual business and the business decisions? There’s a whole pyramid of people working under Dan and Marty. Dan’s men who run the Casinos. Marty’s men manage the warehouses and supervise thugs like Will’s capo. Also a few bribed cops like Will that Marty managed. Who’s gonna tell all those people what’s going on? They’ll have far more problems with an eighteen-year-old girl stepping into the room. And I’m sure some of them are bound to get ambitious. Like Aida made up capo was.

My heart hurts from watching Dan suffer, but if I don’t sway him to my side I’ll suffer more than that, so will Corrin, Will, and Quint.

I near Dan from the side and show him the injector. A smaller dose. It shouldn’t affect his reasoning, but should ease his suffering.

At the sight of it Dan licks his lips. “Ah, a good method of torture. Parade in front of a man what he needs most.”

“Tilt your neck.” Dan looks at me, dumbfounded. “Do you want it or not?”

He arches his head, exposing the neck. I shoot him up.

As I lower myself into my chair he stares at me as if I’m some sort of unknown creature he faced for the first time. No one has ever been soft with him except for Corrin’s mother whom he actively denied because Reid used to say softness was a sign of weakness.

“What’s about my kin?” Dan chokes out, his breathing calming.

“Reid wasn’t your father.”

“Don’t lie.”

“You and Corrin both were stolen at your birth from completely different people. Your mother was a who…a prostitute from Europe Reid killed. And Corrin was delivered to him in the arms of men he then murdered.”

Dan scoffs, in denial. “Sure. And Corrin’s mother was a fairy.”

“Corrin’s ‘mother’ was a woman Reid hired to raise Corrin. Since he couldn’t manage with you both. And she was his greatest mistake. Reid was a man with ambitions, with a plan to create an empire. He was power-hungry, like most of the people in power are, but he was sick for a long time, a cancerous disease. So he placed his hopes on you two. The powerful family with two successors. Two sons who’ll take over after he’s gone. Two rough and wanton men ready to follow and to lead others.”

“Envision my little brother that man,” Dan chuckles darkly, still dismissive.

“Reid’s ambition grew when he discovered a lead which led him to killing those lawyers and governmental families. Then he took a closer look at you two and saw something new. It had slipped past him that he never knew Corrin’s mother, that she was truly kind, truly loving. And when Corrin began failing his training Reid realized that it was she who made him soft. That instead of shooting birds in the forest and taking the scolding like a man he was playing with shiny kites and flying off on vacations with her. She raised him too soft and too loving. From his birth Corrin was torn between two polarities, and guess which won.”

Dan doesn’t protest because he did notice it, he did blame their mother for Corrin’s indecisiveness, for his questioning of right or wrong.

“Thus, Reid planted a slowly progressing poison into her food, to see how it would affect Corrin. Reid was ready to let her live if Corrin succeeded at his trial, but he failed and she was no longer needed. Reid ordered a final dose of poison administered and killed her.” Dan meets my eyes and this time I limit myself to his forehead. “And then with Corrin gone you were his only successor. The one who still wanted it.”

“Don’t lie…”

“It’s true. There was no love. The only man you thought wanted to make you better was grooming you for power, for cruelty, for his own personal ambition. You thought his violence did you good, was a sign of tough parental love. It wasn’t.”

“He was my father, he had a lot on his shoulders,” Dan’s words are loud, as if he’s trying to convince himself of his own truth.

“He didn’t care for you, he cared for his legacy. Once Corrin was gone he put pressure on you no human being can handle. Your performance fell, Reid felt like he was a failure and it agitated him even more. And he snapped once he saw Corrin in the warehouse. Then he knew that you too failed him completely. He planned to murder you right after he was done with me and Corrin. You were never loved by him, Dan.”

I strike his soft spot, somewhere deep the arrow of my words hits the bull’s eye. Dan squeezes his eyes shut and when a tear crosses his dirty cheek I realize the extent of power I have.

But I mustn’t be mistaken by his grief. Dan’s almost an exact copy of Reid. He is selfish, cold and all he wants is power just like Reid did. Still, there’s good in him, and I wonder to which side he’ll lean.

“I don’t believe you,” he strains, itching to leave this room.

But I can see it in his face. “But you do.”

“No,” he shakes his head.

I lean closer to him. “Admit it to yourself, Daniel. Too many details add up. To many of Reid’s actions make sense. To many of his words ring as true.”

The room falls silent. Only Dan’s dry wheezing echoes of the metal walls. He’s been up for two days now. Reid didn’t let him sleep ever since he returned to deliver the news of me and my men didn’t feed him nor allowed him any water for over twenty-four hours. Yet Dan survived on the streets worse than that. Streets made him what he is. Streets and Reid’s damned trial. And nor Reid realized what he did nor Dan knew what was made out of him. Well, I guess, Reid knew he wanted a copy of himself.

Dan hangs his head and I see him struggle for breath, struggle to cope with the truth. Perhaps he’s acting. “Look at me.” He doesn’t and I begin to worry for his health. I near him, knife in hand.

“Do whatever you want, bitch.” He jerks away from me as much as ropes allow, but I know it’s a defense mechanism and he’s scared shitless.

“I won’t hurt you, Dan.” I cut the rope around his upper arms to allow him more mobility. He glances at me, expanding his chest fully, then his face hardens, new emotions twirling in his head—the outcome of Reid’s betrayal.

“Corrin can never know about it,” he bites out. “It’ll wreck him.”

“He won’t.” I descend back into my chair.

“So were those people Reid killed, governmentals and lawyers, a part of his ambition as well? His precious lead?” The lead, the murders Will had to cover, the lead that essentially killed Rovy and Mrs. Brice.

“He didn’t know what he followed.” I don’t remember all of it that well. “He overheard a conversation of some powerful men at one of his casinos and he decided to investigate, follow the hunch.”

“What was the conversation?”

I strain my memory. “I don’t remember it all. All I recall are the words The King in the conversation.”

Dan crinkles his nose. “The King?”

I shrug. “It was something to do with the crime scheme in this and only in this city. Information that could be used to have or destroy everything. This King, was his lead, his obsession. I guess if it’s a person he’s someone important. Someone Reid tried to find. It was the reason he dug into the government, into the officials, other families, interrogated and murdered innocent people and then hired cops to cover.” I hope I never learn who or what this King is, hope whatever power it has will stay buried, so psychos like Reid can’t use it.

Dan huffs a shriveling sigh. I’m afraid he’ll pass out on me, but before he does I’ll manipul… persuade him more. “Reid wanted so bad to fulfill his dream of power, even if he weren’t there at the end. When the shipments burned he saw that, perhaps, he poked in the wrong direction and begun panicking. But the last straw was when he discovered that you failed him by letting Corrin live. It lost him the game. He lost his temper and he was ready to kill everyone.”

“Psycho.”

“Power is a dangerous game,” I whisper.

“It is.” Dan sags in his chair. “So what do you want me to do? I assume you’re not letting me go with all that you’ve told me.”

“What do you want to do?” The openness of my question throws him off again.

“Don’t play.” He turns on a defense mode.

“Join me, run the business. I’ll stay undercover as the boss. You’ll be the frontman. Will you be happy with that?”

Dan gapes, distrustful, but he thinks it over for a while. “I’ll join.”

“Prove it.”

His damp eyes meet mine and this time his extensive exhaustion is easier to bear. Dan hates me, but now, after years of following the man who used him, he obsessively wants his family into his hands. He wants to become his own man, possess all the power so no one can hurt him or exploit him for their personal needs.

Sort of like I do right now.

But he’s conflicted at my good will. I could’ve left him to rot and he’s not sure I need him, so me asking him to join is mercy. Mercy he hates but is willing to accept. He also thought about killing me in my sleep. He considered it risky as he thinks I might have more tricks up my sleeve, but the thought was there.

We should visit the IT as soon as we can. So I can own the family once and for all. Most of the crime transactions are done through IT’s. All the paper reserves are managed through them too, in this family is still under Reid’s name. Whoever holds the IT, holds the power.

“I hope you don’t go spitting my story to everyone,” Dan utters.

“If you get on my nerves I will.”

“Could you,” his voice turns as formal as a withering voice can turn,” please, do not disclose any of my private details to anyone?”

“Looker lookee confidentiality. If you promise not to murder me in my sleep.”

It’s almost funny how confusing this situation must be to him. He tried to humiliate me in a manner he used to joke with Corrin, but I think he understood that I am, in fact, the boss, and put his formal mask on. But I don’t need him to be formal. I want to show him I’m not a selfish tyrant…well, not that selfish.

A knock on the door startles us both and I jump to my feet. “Yes!”

Corrin walks in. “Sevina.” He scans my outfit with amusement. “You’re…dark.”

I gulp, paranoid he might read the biggest secret from my face, before I notice that he cleaned himself up too. His ponytail is gone and his hair is combed back. His cheeks are freshly shaved and white button-up shirt hangs loosely over his black slacks.

Corrin steps to Dan, emotionless, but underneath plainly loathing to be here. He says nothing about me interrogating his ‘brother’. Quickly, I cut the zip ties on Dan’s wrists. “You should have Tia take a look at you.” Luckily, Dan is hugely conflicted by my gentleness and it stows away his need to murder me. I’ll act gentle, until I own the family anyway.

“Where’s she buried?” Corrin asks Dan, probably not wanting to bother me with it. I remember only the looks of the place, not the location of the grave.

“West Havason Cemetery.” Dan pivots in his chair toward the exit. “Row 225, grave 116.”

Corrin swallows his thanks and I say, “We’re going to the IT as soon as you’re capable.”

“After I get my sleep.” Dan rises from his seat an inch and slumps back down. “I’ll sleep here. You should go.”

I take his arm firmly and help him stand, but he shoves me aside, staggering to the door. His legs wobble and he grips the doorframe, holding himself upright.

“Ah, a pleasant sight,” Marty smirks, not bothering to help him.

Corrin and I exchange looks. “Cut it off, Marty,” I grunt, nearing Dan. “Would you rather have the men see you vault out of the basement on your fours?”

Heavy lidded, Dan glances sidelong at me. I turn him my shoulder. With nothing left he throws his arm around me, supporting himself.

“Come on.” Corrin grabs his other and we lead him up the stairs.

…

With Dan taking his beauty sleep in the mansion, tended by Tia, I have some time to kill till the morning. Corrin withdraws to his room and Liz treats me with the most delicious noodle pie for dinner. Then, still insecure to wander on my own, I ask Liz for a tour of the mansion. One of the rooms draws me to it like a light an insect—Reid’s study.

Liz shoulders the door, so far impassive about anything that has struck this house. This crime family mustn’t be the first one she works for. Or she’s worked here for a very long time.

“Thank you, I’ll stay here.” I take in the rich smell of mahogany in the room.

“Yes, miss.” Liz nods before leaving.

Once again my gaze falls on two ancient swords, still polished and sharp, and I cross the carpet, approaching the boss chair.

I roll it back and subside into it. It’s way too huge for me, but I inch closer to the damn expensive-looking desk with a computer display on it. I’ll need IT’s help to access it. Two armchairs face the other side of the desk.

He sat here and he did his deeds here. This desk counted lives. But no more. My tight expression reflects on the tabletop, glossy and grim. My face. It is I who has the right to sit here now. Because I killed him…

A rap on the door startles me. It opens before I call out an invite.

I leap aside, awkwardly gripping the headrest of the chair. Corrin scans me.

“I didn’t mean to… the maid… it was a tour.” I drop my gaze at the table before I lift it at him again. He smiles covertly, but it’s uneasy for him too, I can tell.

“Can I talk to you… boss?”

I gulp, stiffly trotting around the table in as non-boss way as possible.

“Corrin.” I notice I have to lift my chin an inch higher than before. It appears that despite the stress he’s still grown over those seven months. “Don’t… call me that. Least of all you.”

“All right, I won’t,” his tone rings soft, in a manner one would talk to a very hot cop lady. “Now that…” he breaks short but gathers himself. “Do I have the permission—”

“No.”

“Permissi—“

“Nope.”

He studies me. I arch my brows, encouraging to try again. “Come on, you’re almost there.” I hope not to come off too harsh.

Cut your manners, man. At least for me.

“I want to leave.” He brings his face close to mine. “Is that to your liking?” His lips curve in a closed smile and I’m glad I don’t have to justify my forwardness.

“Yes. It damn is,” I whisper, thinking about what he just told me. I knew it, but it seemed so distant in my head. “You can leave. It’s your decision.”

He hides his relief and agitation by lifting his hand to his buttoned collar, feeling for a subtle line over his Adam’s apple. It’s not noticeable from afar but it’s there. He could remove it, but I sense he doesn’t want to.

I should do something to make him feel better.

But do I?

It seems that once we achieved our goals all we built together went out the window. Whatever we had— partnership, friendship, love— disappeared once it became redundant, all a necessity to survive and not to go mad until now.

He knows it. I know it.

But then why there’s a hole in my chest, blooming at the thought of him leaving?

“All is settled. All your debts are paid. Ease up.” I throw him a hand in a manner he did all those months ago. “Wrap it up, huh?” He squeezes my palm, indeed relaxing. With a step I close the distance and hug him, burying my face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me, his muscles tight against my sides. “That’s a nice cologne.” A balmy scent picks at my nose. ”Manly as hell.”

He chuckles into my shoulder, squeezing me gingerly, but firmly.

This embrace feels like a gesture of unforced forgiveness and appreciation, true thanks for having the guts to face me and stand by my side. He hasn’t expected me to get that far. I didn’t expect it, but I’m here. And I’m here because of him.

The hole in my chest overflows with warmth, a feeling so intensely engraved into my subconscious for a second I fight myself off from asking him to stay. I guess I can’t erase that, even after the deal is done.

…

The following morning after lonely breakfast I enter the wet and mushy yard. My heart sinks when I find Corrin by the garages, throwing two duffel bags into the backseat of a black car. He’s somewhat far off and only dogs, leaping around, make him sprout a rare grin.

I observe him for a short moment and change my mind for sure. Too many reasons for him not to stay. Sooner or later he’ll find out what I revealed to Dan. I’d like it to be later. Years later. When horrors of the past will do him no impact.

I walk over to him.

It’s weird, standing next to him as if in front of a normal person without that fiery determination to change things.

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” He swivels to me. “If you need me you can always call.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Will, and Marty, Quint, and Dan. I’ve got my eyes, which I can now use, thanks to you. We’ll make something decent out of this. We’re going to the IT soon. Then I’ll truly be the boss and Dan will have no choice but to help me.”

Corrin’s hand lands on my shoulder and I meet his deep blue eyes.

Yes. Despite fighting against a million conflicting emotions he wholeheartedly wants to leave this place. With me… or without.

“There is nothing for you here.” I pull him closer to the decision and stifle his doubt. He chuckles. It’s me that’s here for him. And his brother. And his family. “Where will you go?”

“I’ll visit my mom, and then, I don’t know. Somewhere far.”

How do I let Corrin know that this woman whose grave he’s about to visit was a nobody? Though that’s not entirely true. She raised a decent kid under the nose of a mobster. That thrusts one far above the title of a nobody. I wonder her motive. After all paper and luxury are powerful stimuli. But the kite. All this love she alone was the source of. It can’t be faked.

Yet I faked it, and Corrin thought my smile on the roof was genuine. Now it would be, but then it was what he needed and I did it.

We stand still in front of each other. I want to hug him, but don’t want to appear weak in front of the men who might be peering through the windows.

“Hug me,” a mere whisper escapes my lips. I still shouldn’t have done that. He does and I sink into a warm embrace.

Don’t leave… I need you by my side— deep in my mind surfaces a longing thought, refuting the final decision I made minutes ago, but I clamp my brain shut and don’t dare to say it. I want him to be happy. And here there’s nothing for him but torment.

He pulls away at arm’s length and his lips curve into a smile he gave me when we met in a restaurant. I beam back. Maybe he faked it. I know I did.

“I’ll take the dogs?” He tugs at the collar of his coat.

“They’re your dogs.”

He rushes them inside and slides into the driver’s seat. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my coat. The vehicle reverses out of the garage, dogs doubling over each other in the back. Corrin twists his head at me and winks. A surprised scowl whelms my face and a wide smile, holding back a laugh, splits my lips.

The car skids through the open gates and slides into the sunlit, evergreen-lined road.

I bet he wanted to shift the sluggish atmosphere with his mischievous wink.

It worked.