xxxxiv. DINNER AND A SHOW
Katrina, Ethan, and I got into a small chauffeured limo by the dock. The partition was up, leaving only the three of us in conversation. The line of dialogue was casual, good, even. At least to an outsider.
My heart was pounding against my ribcage the entire time. The fact that Ethan was here really threw me off. What exactly was supposed to happen tonight? My plan was just to hand over the hard drive, contemplate how my father worked for the CIA, then self-medicate with chocolate.
And alcohol. And old Disney movies. And making fun of Banana Bread. And more alcohol.
"What are we doing tonight, Katrina?" I ask. "The proposal was quite vague."
"You two have been selected to meet the founder of our enterprise as representatives of your firms due to your hard work," she smoothly says.
"Where are we heading exactly?" I press.
"One of his houses."
Ethan looked through the window with excitement. Why wouldn't he be? From his perspective, his hard work had been shown, acknowledged, rewarded. Only I knew something more sinister was going on. He suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. I pry away from his disgusting grasp.
"I'm surprised to see you here," Ethan says. "I didn't know you worked for the Vinclair foundation."
Right. That's probably the institution Thirteen mascaraded all his finances behind. "I've worked with them ever since interning in college," I state. "About three years now."
I tune out the rest of the conversation. Only the persistent touch of Ethan's hand on my knee kept interrupting my thoughts. If I could aim, I would have shot him by now.
We arrive at a large brick mansion in the middle of nowhere after thirty minutes of driving. It was one of those mansions that looked like a perfect mosaic of ancient and modern features. When I was in high school, I'm pretty sure all the cliche mean girls lived in this type of house. Brightly lit light shone through from the windows, seeping outside, casting into the surrounding thick forest.
We follow Katrina into the mansion. We wait in the living room, which was complete with an elite, small art collection. Thirteen soon enters the room wearing a tailored suit. It was navy, bringing out the contrast in his wild-green eyes.
He carried a glass of champagne with him down the steps. There was a smile on his lips, one that mirrored warmth, or whatever was the machiavellian equivalent.
Ethan was a child. He shook Thirteen's hand immediately, excited, then introduced himself. "It's such an honor Mr. Vinclair," he smiles.
"Please, just call me Ian," Thirteen grins back. He then extends his hand to meet mine.
I hesitate. When there's an awkward pause, I take it. "Nice to finally meet you Ian. I'd say my name is Ava, but I'm assuming since you're so introspective, already knew that."
Thirteen gives me an amused look. "Katrina, please take Ava's backpack upstairs."
I didn't want to part with it. But Katrina clasps an iron grasp around the bag containing the hard drive. Thirteen then shows us around his art collection. He gestures to one of an abstract woman's body.
"Matisse," I say. "Quite impressive. Tell me, how did you manage to get your hands on this one? It's almost as if you stole it," I laugh.
Thirteen tightens. He then loosens his tie. "I actually got this piece from Skye Antar, part of the royal family in the UAE."
I stiffen. Royal family? I make a mental note to interrogate Skye about that later. Another smile tugs on Thirteen's lips as he analyzes my shocked reaction. He enjoyed screwing with me and anyone else daring to defy him.
Katrina escorts us into the kitchen. The smell of steak wafts into the room. We all take our seats at the long dining table with Thirteen sitting at the head, with Ethan and I flanking him. Some waiters bring in wine glasses along with the steak.
For the first time, I, Octavia Snow, did not want to eat food.
Instead, I observed the silverware, mentally trying to assess which could be the best weapon. Forks were probably the most versatile. Though since we were eating steak, that knife would definitely be the best option. Who am I kidding; I couldn't physically fight against him. I couldn't fight against anyone except verbally.
Even then the hurled insults would be so trashy raccoons would start surrounding me.
The awkward sound of metal clanking fills the chamber. Thirteen, Katrina, and Ethan make easy conversation that I refuse to join in on. What sadistic game was this? Thirteen had everything he wanted already. I needed to put a stop to this while still possible.
"Hey Ethan, could I get a second with you?" I smile.
Thirteen frowns. Ethan wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and follows me out with a smirk. As soon as we're out of earshot, he pushes me against the wall of the art room, bringing my lips to meet his. I try to press against his chest, but I'm unable to move. He didn't oblige. So I knee him. Hard.
"What the hell?" Ethan whispers. "I thought we had something."
"Listen Ethan. We need to get out of here," I spit. Without waiting for a response, I yank him by the tie to the exit. I couldn't believe I was saving this asshat.
"What are you talking about—"
"—Leaving so soon Darling?" Thirteen suddenly interrupts. "But you'll miss the show."
I freeze. Thirteen starts to circle us while Katrina steps in front of the only exit. My nails dig into my palms. My eyes scan the room, looking for any possible weapon, but there's nothing, only millions of dollars of obscure artwork.
"Enough, Ian. I'm leaving," I state. "Now that you've got my backpack, you don't need me anymore. Kill me—just like Eve."
Thirteen grins. "You've grown on me."
Ethan looks between us. "Eve?"
Thirteen fakes an over dramatic sigh. "Looks like we'll have to move to the show early."
Katrina hands Thirteen something wrapped in a white cloth. In one swift motion, Thirteen fires a deafening bullet into the room, causing Ethan's body to fall. Rose red colors spray onto the pure white walls.
I scream, but no sound comes out. There's red sprawled out onto my lilac dress. Systematically, the waiters from earlier carry out Ethan's body without a second thought. There is no longer water coming out of my eyes—he's already taken too many tears from me.
"Why? What was the point of taking that innocent life?" I cry out.
Thirteen strolls close to me with his hands in his pockets. "Do you really think he was innocent? Tell me—has he not been harrassing you all night?"
I tremor. "But... He didn't deserve to die. You're vile. You're a murderer. You're... you're worse than the McDonald's dollar menu."
He chuckles. Almost gently, he tilts my chin up to meet his grass green eyes. The ones that reminded me of stars in a dim night. "Tell me something. Why is my name Thirteen?"
"You've killed Thirteen people. Though now, as far as I know, sixteen."
"How many people do you think Ace has killed?"
I shrug. "Ten?"
"Over a hundred," he shakes his head. "The agency just hands him these briefs—he doesn't question anything."
A cold feeling came over me. I'd never thought about just how many people Banana Bread has killed. "He's... he's different. He only kills people who are evil. He kills people like you. He will kill you."
Thirteen takes off his jacket to drape over my shoulders. "Let me rephrase that question—was Ethan evil?"
I throw his jacket onto the floor. "You two are not the same. Ace is good... you're not."
"No one is the villain in their own story, Darling. Can you tell me definitively what makes Ace good and what makes me bad? We both kill people; we both fight for what we believe; we both follow our own moral compasses."
As much as I didn't want to admit it, Thirteen had a point. A very terrifying, very petrifying, and very confounding point. "And what is it you believe in? What exactly is your moral compass?"
He sighs. "All will be explained in due time. I'm not stupid enough to tell you just to have you tell the CIA. But right now, and I know it seems wrong to you, you have to trust me. My Queen will help me. She has to."
I shudder. The hard drive I gave to him with a genome, so who exactly did I just condemn to unimaginable hell?
"You're not the damn god you act like."
Thirteen smirks. "You're right. I'm Prometheus. I'm not a god—I'm a Titan."
Sophie: "I promise the next chapters are not as dark... Thank you for one million. I love you all <3"