Wynn returned from his leisure sometime around twilight. We swapped his car for mine, a silver luxury sedan, and departed Cain Manor for Downtown Himitus again. This time I boasted one of my suits as opposed to any guises.

 

The drive began much the same as any other. While I reclined in the vinyl rear seat and worked on my laptop, Wynn steered us. I still had tasks as The Grandmaster to complete, such as Narcissa’s dossier. Fortunately, Narcissa lavished me with more than sufficient information. I found her home address in short order.

 

I had begun to charter us a private flight for the following day when Wynn interrupted my train of thought by saying, “Hey Cass, got a minute?”

 

I closed my laptop screen. “You’ve my undivided attention.”

 

“I don’t think you should plant the phone if we end up doing so.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“You do know how dangerous planting things is, right?”

 

“Naturally.”

 

“Doesn’t stuff like that fall on me as your bodyguard? Plus, me doing it gives you a degree of separation if things get screwy.”

 

I reclined deeper into my chair and sealed my eyes. I didn’t wish to sacrifice Wynn, but it would’ve been a disservice to not consider what he said.

 

If Wynn bared the burden, he was correct; it would provide me a degree of separation. Having someone else do something undesirable so you wouldn’t have to endure the backlash was a time-tested tactic. However, they were far more likely to discover evidence that corroborated their suspicions with him than they were me. Or at least they were if they uncovered his true history. Both of our records were clean, but only one of our records was genuine.

 

“Although your suggestion is far from inept,” I said, “I believe I’m far more suited for this. My history can bear scrutiny.”

 

“Lilah’s work can stand against anything.”

 

“I doubt it can endure a thorough inquest. Records are merely records. If someone were to scrutinize those records and speak with actual individuals, they might uncover your true heritage. And if that were to occur…”

 

Wynn sighed.

 

The word “detrimental” doesn’t begin to describe how hazardous anyone knowing Wynn’s actual past is to our operation.

 

If I weren’t disclosing all this information as is, I wouldn’t share this with you. However, seeing as it is relevant, I shall impart upon you the secret of Wynn’s origins.

 

Wynn is the son of a man named Marius Wolfe. You might be familiar with the name. If not, research him. Research him and investigate his moniker “The King of the Con.” Doing so shall not only reveal some of the rumors surrounding him but it’ll also reveal his arrest a couple of years ago.

 

I played a role in the latter situation. Regardless, Marius groomed Wynn to succeed him as a thief, much like Marius’ father groomed him. I’ve no clue how he would’ve ended up had he not encountered my grandfather and me.

 

Anyway, I had another reason for refusing Wynn’s suggestion. “We should consider the racial element as well.”

 

“It’s not like you’re immune to preconceptions either,” he said, referencing the Zimavatan side of my heritage.

 

“I concede they might, but I’m wealthy, beautiful, and conventionally female, so they’re less likely to suspect me.”

 

“I could debate you on that last point.”

 

I blinked, frowned, opened a video app on my phone, and inspected my face. Everything was in order. I winked at myself as I said, “You could, but you’d be a fool.”

 

Wynn scoffed. “Good to see you’re as modest as ever.”

 

“Modesty is overrated. I’d much rather be accurate when self-assessing.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Just try not to be cocky, either. I’ve got a bad feeling about this and don’t need you doing anything crazier than you already are.”

 

“If I’m as loony as you insist,” I said, my voice playful, “what does that say about you, the person who chooses to follow me?”

 

“A fool, like you already said. I’ve made peace with that. Just wish you’d do the same with your insanity.”

 

“Let’s compromise. How does ‘delightfully eccentric’ sound?”

 

As we continued, I had a blast making light of his concerns. Nevertheless, I did take them into account. I’d execute the scheme while steering clear of her carriage if possible. However, if no alternative presented itself, I had no reservations about planting the phone. Steering clear of the carriage was the ideal scenario I hoped for. Heading inside was the worst-case scenario I’d prepare for.

 

A thread of hope for an alternate route materialized once I returned to constructing Narcissa’s dossier and discovered she kept two dogs and three cats. She can’t have sequestered her pets with her, I deduced. Their upkeep alone would pose risks to her anonymity. Thus, there had to be someone taking care of them. Moreover, if someone was taking care of them, they likely possessed her phone number in case of emergencies.

 

My fingers, my entire being, vibrated. Don’t get ahead of yourself, I thought as I smoothed down my suit jacket and skirt. After all, it was still a mere theory. I hadn’t the time to make it viable.

 

We arrived at the Mini Chul district of Himitus before I concluded my research. I took a moment to relish the beauties of the community. The slanted arched gateway, vibrant street art featuring adorable anthropomorphic animals, and colorful storefront displays were a few of the festivities the district replicated from Shishuchul.

 

We parked in a lot next to a bar before heading to the residential floors above said establishment. It was there that my close friend Rebecca Maddox, the illusionist I mentioned earlier, awaited my arrival.