Checkmate

𝐬 𝐞 𝐯 𝐞 𝐧

04 | Mackenzie

"Bring her the contract today-" Andrew Rousseau demanded as he slid a piece of parchment across the table towards his son.

"Father," Mackenzie interrupted.  "She's still on bed rest."

Andrew Rousseau- a powerful man- narrowed his eyes at his son's protest.  He thought he'd raised him better than this.  Far better.

"I don't care if she is moments away from death.  Take her the contract and tell her to sign it.  Then give her blood and explain that we have a lead on who stabbed her.  You four will be headed to Mexico to follow through on the lead and bring down the entire organization, and the man who stabbed her."

Mackenzie nodded yet did not cower.  He was taught strength and brutality.  He was taught that feelings are your weakness and love is your captor.  His back was rigid straight and he was dressed impeccably.

Perfect for his father.

Not so perfect for him.

"Of course father."

"Ah," Andrew paused and wrote another thing to the contract.  He waited until the ink dried before speaking again, "you two will also be getting married after you complete the heist.  Do not die, and do not let her die or this alliance goes down the drain.  I do not care if you have to order her to stick to your side the entire week.  Stay alive."

"Yes, father."

"This is far bigger than just you two.  It's our family and her family uniting.  It's the Chateau de Castillions uniting with the Irish Mafia."

"Do we have any information on our lead?"

Andrew nodded and handed a thin folder to his son.  Mackenzie internally grimaced at the size.  The thinner the folder: the less information they had to go off of.

He'd give the folder to Zara on the plane ride so she could try to begin figuring out the behavior of their suspect and what his next move could possibly mean.

But for now, he had a proposal to do.

The walk to Nox's Irish home felt too fast.  Mackenzie began to think of all the things that could go wrong during this.

Part of him hated this idea.  He'd be forced to spend even more time with the stupid Irish girl.  He'd also be forced to show a slimmer of feeling.

Yet another tiny parcel of his heart was excited, but he was shoving that down as far as it would go.  He refused to think about his odd excitement and fluttery feeling.

Mackenzie's hands were clammy as he waltzed into their home- completely disregarding the rules and restictions about each families' personal house within their fence.

He was nervous?

Why was he bloody nervous?

As he neared her room, a doctor rushed out and almost knocked into the boy.

"Sorry sir," he squeaked.

Mackenzie didn't even get a chance to respond before the doctor had bowed and scampered off.  His father would be proud of the reaction caused.  Fear is the best intimidation.