Mitchell awaited patiently in the study that was once Santroini's. He always looked up to Master Santroini as a father figure in so many ways. The mahogany desk reminded him of the first day Santroini called Mitchell alone into his study, to tell him certain things in person. He was to groom himself with good English and had to learn Italian and Russian to amicable fluency. He was to learn how to dress like a fine man even though he'd be carrying his gun close to his chest at all times and even when he'd sleep, the gun must be reachable and hidden from view at all times at moments notice. That's how he'd survive at this part of the town from his own gang members and the Russians. It was a handy guidance, as Mitchell recalled his last encounter with Tim. Had he been careless and was strolling down from the cafe and buying newspaper on his way across the streets to Santroini mansion without his metal friend strapped to his chest, Tim would have gotten away and gang wouldn't be in line under his command.
He was polished, subtle in his ways, as far as the gang was concerned. He never spoke with raised voice, rather when he did got himself stitched into a piece the morning he was stabbed by Tim, he held his jawline hard and chewed every word to Veli, to clear Tim's body off the street, hack the head off and gather the rest of the gang into the Santroini mansion's central plaza and he stood at the balcony when the hounds were unleashed upon the severed head and gnawed at it, chewed at it and the whole gang was to watch as blood started smearing all over the floor with flesh, pieces of the brain from the gunshots wound and eyeballs rolling around as the hounds tossed and chewed away piece by piece from Tim's head.
That did send across the message to his gang about who's the boss around here. He never uttered a single word to his gang and walked silently into his study and as if on queue, Veli boomed to stop the hounds and leashed them back to their cages.
Helen gently knocked the door before entering the study and closing the door quietly and found Master Mitchell was standing by the window in deep thought with tense jawline. Helen knew Master's this expression all too well, it's like the deep dark cloud before the hurricane, but Master Mitchell was not like any other man she has ever known, he'd wreck havoc of a hurricane without even uttering an extra word, if it can be managed silently, that would be his style.
"Master you sent for me", whispered Helen. Mitchell turned around as his expression softened around the eyes, but his jawline didn't lose it's stiffness. He walked around and sat himself at the Santroini's chair with such flair of black sharp trousers and white shirt, and black silk waistcoat that complemented his muscular v line figure, Helen found herself blushing again as she felt her cheeks got warm, how could she help herself if one man could hold such an air around himself all the time?! Too much 'Man' in that man to handle!
Mitchell cleared his throat and pushed forward an envelop that was placed on the table close to Helen and gestured for her to take a seat.
She picked up the envelop to find that the seal was broken and it was an agreement between Maurice and Master Santroini that in good faith Santroini hands over five hundred dollars to Maurice and he is to repay the amount as soon as possible with a cumulative interest rate 3.00% per diem and in failing to do so while dead or alive his land, wooden hut and his daughter Helen was to be considered sold to Master Santroini.
Irrational tears welled up in Helen's eyes as she read and re-read the deed. She understood why she was invited to live in the Santroini mansion the day her father died.
Helen was barely sixteen and she couldn't imagine herself in the Santroini's brothel as a sweet little thing for all the night time pleasures.
Mitchell was watching her intently as she was torn inside, and spoke gently for the first time that evening directly to Helen.
"First, I'm sorry this was done. As of current moment, the land and the cottage already is under my name and I do not want you to be in that brothel anymore than you yourself do" finished Mitchell looking dead in the eyes of Helen and watched her struggle to comprehend where the conversation is going.
He chuckled inwardly and continued, "I have a proposition for you, if you are to accept, you are to train under my scrutiny, here in Santroini mansion, be taught in fluent English, Italian, Russian and French. Be taught proper elegance of a lady and learn the art of deception and cunning. Do not misunderstand me, your body belongs to you and you're to choose whoever you share yourself with, I will not intervene in such matters, but you're to train yourself in the art of seduction and Silken will be in charge for your education in that department. If I may feel so, I may test your skills at anytime and anywhere. And I will train you around the guns myself."
Helen looked surprised at the way the conversation was flowing, she couldn't help herself but asked in a whisper, "Yes, I understand you Master Mitchell, but what is the purpose of all this?"
"Ah, that's just the preparation for the deal I'm about to offer you. Do you remember Marcus?" asked Mitchell, and Helen simply nodded in affirmation. "Good, Marcus is currently one of the most powerful affluent elite of New York, married couple of wealthy widows of that part of the country and has a reputation of a playboy. But I know him for what he is, greedy conman that truly he is. You will prepare yourself with care and you are to bring him to me. To con a conman, you must tell him as much as truth necessary to make him fall for you, win him over and strip him off all he gathered through deception and bring him to me, and I shall release you from this deed and you can continue as Sofia's carer and shall receive a stipend of fifty five dollars a month as long as you want and you can live freely within the mansion even after the task is complete. If you are to choose a groom and wish to settle down, you'll have my consent in the matter, but keep in mind, only after the task is complete."
"Think this through, if you choose to deny my alternate proposition, you're to follow through the motion of the original deed, I would be personally sad to see you join the brothel, in that case you can choose to be my exclusive, and get my branded tattoo and I shall not touch you."
"Think tonight, let me know, tomorrow morning at breakfast" and dismissed Helen from the study with a nod.
