"More evil gets done in the name of righteousness than any other way."
- Glen Cook
. . .
Alexandre Monet
"I'll get it rebuilt," I told Dahlia, tucking the strand of her hair behind her ear. "I will make it just as it was. Will that help?"
She shrugged. "Maybe."
"We'll try."
She nodded, swinging her legs. She was sitting on the island of the kitchen, dressed in a giant sweater and sweatpants. I could just eat her up.
"We'll stop at a town tomorrow," I told her. "We can buy some things for you."
"Okay," she said, glancing at Andros who was cooking. "How long will stop?"
"A few days," Andros replied, arranging a few pancakes on a plate. We all could cook, but Andros and I were easily the best. "We have a house there. An apartment too. We can stay in whatever you prefer."
"Apartment," she said instantly.
I watched. That was a quick decision. Too quick.
"Let's have a date tonight," I said. "Be ready by seven, okay?"
She nodded.
She had dimmed since her store burnt down.
I knew she felt like she had failed Noah.
I didn't know what to do about that.
. . .
Dahlia
Lucian was the only one there as I entered the dining room.
He looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Someone is dressed to kill."
I smiled, brushing my hands on the dress I was wearing. It was a dark grey dress that shone in the light.
It shone in the moonlight penetrating the room through the transparent ceiling, and it shone in the golden light of the candles lit around. They had transformed the dining room completely. First, it had been an over-the-top, beautiful dining room. Now, there was only a simple table with five chairs and some candles.
"Thank you," I said approaching him. "Why has everything changed?"
"I wanted to change it," he said. "It's hard to have different dates at the same place, but I wanted it to feel different to you. Did I succeed?"
"With flying colors." I stood beside him and looked at the painting he had been looking at.
It was the only thing that hadn't been moved.
"Who is this?" I asked.
"Kostya and Cynthia."
"Kostya?"
"Kozlov's father."
I looked back at the painting. Cynthia was sitting on a chair with Kostya behind her. Kostya was a large man like his sons, but there was something so threatening about his eyes that made me want to take a step back.
Cynthia, on the other hand, appeared exactly opposite to how she was. She looked small and frail. Her skin was pale her hair the lighted shade of blonde. She was wearing a skin-tight red dress.
"Kostya is scary."
Lucian frowned and looked closely at the painting. "I suppose." He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me against his side.
"Cynthia looks harmless."
"Appearances can be deceiving."
Just how deceiving could they be?
"I feel sad for Damien," I whispered. "He never got a normal childhood because uncle had to keep him hidden from Cynthia."
"And he still went back to her."
"Why would he do that?"
"He never felt close to Noah. Noah kept him safe, but he could never keep him close." Lucian directed me to the table and pulled out a chair. "A child needs to be safe, yes. But not loving them can be dangerous too."
"Dangerous?"
"Yes," Lucian said, sitting across the table. "Kids in our world, Dahlia, they're all born to dangerous people. But loyalties can't be tied by just blood. My parents realized that, but I don't think Noah did. He thought safety could be enough."
"But it wasn't."
"It wasn't," he agreed. "Kids need connection. They don't give a fuck about security. Damien was the same. As was Lorenzo."
"Have you met him?"
"I've met both of them. Damien and Lorenzo." He frowned. "Both tried to kill me."
"Who tried to kill you?"
Andros walked inside the room, dressed in an off-white shirt and black pants. He smiled, looking at me. "Someone decided to give poor me a heart attack today." He kissed me and sat down beside me. He looked back at Lucian. "Who are we talking about? Walter? Ethan? Remo? George? Walter-"
"Lorenzo and Damien," Lucain interrupted.
"This many people have tried to kill you?" I asked, horrified.
"It comes with the job, baby."
"Why did Damien and Lorenzo try to kill you?"
"I think it was when Dad bombed some buildings." Lucian frowned.
"I'm taking Minnie from him. There should be no bombing done by her owner."
Lucian paused. "You know."
"It's called Monet Mansion, Lucian. I'm not that dumb, at least, not yet."
"Well, I assure you, Dad will keep Minnie safe."
I believed that. The Monets seemed to trust their dad, and I trusted them.
I trusted them.
And I trusted the Kozlovs.
I trusted them too much.
I trusted them so much it verged on the edge of something...else.
Something I never thought I could feel.
. . .
It was early in the morning and I was on the deck. I didn't sleep much last night. We had stayed up late, drinking and talking, all of us. And I never wanted it to end.
I had barely slept an hour. But I was so excited to see them again.
And I liked watching the sun rise over the waters.
So, I set up a chair, and then two more tiny chairs for Vaness and Bobby, and we watched the sunrise together.
"Good morning, Baby."
I looked up at Alexandre.
"Hey," I smiled and then yawned into my hand as he set a chair beside mine, sitting down.
"You seem tired," he said, pulling my chair even closer. My heart fluttered at that.
"Yeah, couldn't sleep much," I said as we looked at the waters. "This is so peaceful."
"It is when I have you."
"It wasn't before?" I asked as Vaness and Bobby hopped on our laps.
"It was a job before. Yes, it's fun sometimes but it was never peaceful."
"Now it is?"
"You make things easier."
. . .
"I have a confession," I said to Lucian. "And...you may get angry."
"At you?" He frowned, eyes lifting from the book he was reading. "I'd say that's near impossible."
I smiled. "Before or after it?"
He chuckled. "After."
"Damn."
"Yes. Come in, baby. And close the door, please."
I did. Lucian's office was big and completely clean. There were shelves filled with books and a neat desk.
"There are many things in the journals," I said. "And, there are things about your father."
Lucian froze. "I...we had considered it, but we never asked our father."
"Are you..."
"I'm very much my mother's son, Dahlia." He stood, approaching me. "Alexandre and I got a DNA test, we aren't related to Cynthia. Thank fuck."
"The Kozlovs are."
"If they could rip her out from themselves, they would." He paused in front of me. "Darling, you can keep everything private in it. But, if there is anything that you think would help keep you safe, or we should know. Please tell us, yes?"
I nodded. "Damien and Lorenzo are identical twins."
"I know that."
"They're just eighteen."
"Yes."
"How are they murderous and teenagers?"
He chuckled. "It's just the way it works in our world, baby."
"Your world?"
"Not entirely legal world."
"You're a shit liar."
"Because I am not trying to lie to you."
"Are you mad at me for keeping what I read from you?"
"I am not." He said. "I'm happy you told me. Now, I'm more determined to burn that fucking organization to the ground."
"Is that the plan? Burn the organization to the ground?"
"Yes, with Lorenzo and Damien."
"Why did Damien offer to keep me safe?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think he was being genuine?"
"No, baby."
. . .
(3/6)