|𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟷𝟷𝚡|
There's a war in London. No one knows how it started, but those caught in the fray can either struggle or thrive due to the nation-wide influence of two formidable factions: the Crimson Syndicate and the Brotherhood of the...
Just like that, Ren wavered, feeling obligated to share the bare minimum with Emily. "Rest assured, what I'm doing here means you are safe from the Syndicate."
She sighed. "So, it's the Crimsons you work for... I suppose it was naive of me to think my son finally found someone to love and confide in."
What did she mean? A beat.
What was he even saying? What he had voiced just now was nothing short of a confession. Not to mention, she didn't think he and Lennox had any sort of real relationship anymore.
"Wait, I don't mean it like that. It's just my brother, he works for them. He promised me our safety, despite Lennox and you, his family, being Veritas." Ren struggled to breathe. He didn't expect his first verbal mention of his real identity would be like this. It wasn't before a murder, and not before a confession, but used as a way to con himself out of a bad situation.
Ren glanced at Emily. She exhaled, something akin to a suspire of relief. Some weight unknown to him had been lifted off her shoulders, liberating her chest in the same way Ren's was confined. It was not the first time his lies had made someone feel at ease and he found that unsettling.
He was a sniper. Compassion—as Mitsan had said—should be the thing he was afraid of, not deception. He knew he wasn't willing to lie with or to anyone to achieve his goals. Not like Trixcia was.
Or so he thought.
Maybe he was more like her than he ever realized. Maybe he would end up lying with the flower boy for information like Trixcia had tried to. Would that be so bad? He lingered on it for a few more moments. It might actually help him with his accursed agenda. Or was he thinking of such a ploy for another reason?
"Oh, Lennox is home! Why don't you greet him, Renato?" Emily said, pulling Ren out of his head.
He had thought too much, so much that he hadn't heard the door unlock. That was dangerous in his current line of work.
Ren trekked towards the stairs, giving the room one a final sweep under his discerning gaze. A swatch of purple reflected onto a glass bottle caught the sniper's eye. In the neighbouring window, something akin to an amethyst cloak billowed. In the time it took for him to swerve around, the flash was gone, disappearing into what was left of the street.
Was someone spying on him? While he was spying on the florist?He peeked behind the curtains to see nothing, not even a hint of colour.
"Renato? Is something the matter?" Emily inquired. She glided over to the window. "I don't see anything, do you?"
"No. I don't." Thinking himself delusional, Ren ascended the stairs with Lennox's mother following close behind.
She greeted Lennox as he stumbled through the door, dragging pale pink plants inside with substantial difficulty.
Ren remembered them from one of the flower pamphlets he had flipped through in his downtime. "Those petunias must be really heavy."
Lennox glared at him. "First of all, if you can't already tell, these are huge. Secondly, I'm hauling ten pots. By myself."
Ren made no move to help him. "What a big, strong flower boy you are," he crooned, injecting a great deal of sarcasm—as much as humanly possible—from his comfortable position on a wooden stool.
Now it was Lennox's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever. You'll be the one carrying in the shipments next time."
"We'll see about that." Ren grinned, mischief shining in his grey-red irises.
