A wall of clouds accumulated in the distance on the luncheon day. I stepped onto my balcony, and a strong whiff scrunched my nose. Furthermore, a fierce gust lifted my hair and hissed in my ears.

 

You should visit Cain International if it starts raining while you’re out, I messaged Wynn. I should be fine for the day.

 

Wynn had left a little earlier for a rendezvous with Lilah. I required new supplies – two latex masks, a helicopter, and a helicopter pilot – and a progress report on Wyatt. I wish I could’ve attended, but I had to maintain a distance while under surveillance.

 

She arrived on time as part of a convoy of black SUVs. I granted them access to Cain Manor and exited to greet them at the entrance.

 

They cruised up the driveway and parked before the steps. Then a group of white-clad female bodyguards, four in all, exited the front and back vehicles. They surrounded the middle one and opened the door.

 

A muscle in my jaw twitched as he emerged from the backseat, his stupid honey-blonde locks wafting in the breeze. He ruined whatever formality his white suit jacket, buttoned-up shirt, and gold tie provided by wearing shorts and loafers. Who wears shorts with a suit top? Why wear shorts with a suit top?! It's absurd!

 

"Well, well, well," he said, his voice hearty, "if it isn't Classy Cassie!"

 

"Vincent," I said through gritted teeth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

 

"Madame Richmond, of course! Not that I need to tell you, Miss High Roller." He sauntered towards me, clapping, brandishing a gleaming grin. "Congratulations on your winnings! Leave it to you to work out a way to profit off this fiasco."

 

He stepped in closer than I preferred. A lime scent grazed my nose.

 

I tensed. I wish I could say it smelled foul, but it did not. I took a step back and forced a frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"As it sounds. A part of me thinks I should have warned Narcissa, but I'd be lying if I said I'm not glad I didn't. Any excuse to see you is a good excuse."

 

"You're too kind."

 

"Not at all! If anything, you're too modest."

 

"I'm likely the furthest thing from modest.”

 

"The fact you think that just shows your modesty,” he merrily replied. “I mean, could you be modest if you believe you were it?"

 

"If I am modest, then I best change that as I've no interest in being it. I wish for accuracy, not modesty."

 

"Ahaha! Interesting! That's such a 'you' answer, though, isn't it?"

 

"Quite…" I said while resisting the urge to ask what he meant by that. "Regardless, I've matters to attend to with Madame Richmond. Why isn't she out here?"

 

"She wishes to avoid exposing herself as best she can right now. But don't worry, she'll meet you inside the vehicle." Vincent snapped his fingers, and Elle – the red-haired lady from the plaza confrontation – stepped forward. "The Madame requests that you're inspected from head…" His leer drifted down my body, as did a shiver. "…to toe. We can't be too careful, no?"

 

"May I do so in private?"

 

"Sorry, but she wants to leave as little to chance as possible. If it's any consolation, I instructed Elle to do this, seeing as you're acquainted as is."

 

Yes, this won't be awkward later, I thought, but I decided to not worry about it. So instead, I bowed my head to Elle and sarcastically said, "Luli boc mulotny."

 

"Luli box…mulo…t knee?" Vincent said, much to my disgust.

 

"Luli boc mulotny," Elle said, her voice cold. "It is a Zabonji phrase used by women about to have relations. It means 'Please be gentle.' Cassidy is being sarcastic."

 

I sighed. "It's not funny if you explain it. Let’s proceed."

 

Elle patted me down, and I blocked out her by eyeing the SUV Narcissa waited in. My mind replayed the commentary I read the previous day on The Observer, and my fingers ached for action.

 

When Elle finished her sweep and permitted me to meet Narcissa, I had to consciously slow my approach. I ambled over, opened the back door, and found a handgun leveled toward me. My heart leaped then I did as well, jerking to the right, out of her range. I crouched down and pressed my back against the wheel. "I don't know how you do things in Florione, but I don't appreciate having guns pointed at me!"

 

"Sorry, Cassidy!" came a familiar voice from the driver's wheel. I glanced up to Zoey Sperax, a Damatessa who didn't attend the train confrontation. As always, her bald head drew my gaze first. She never answered me on why she shaved her head. I deemed it peculiar, then accepted it since it was irrelevant. Beyond that, her bronze skin and slim eyebrows drew attention.

 

"Hilda's being extra secure for some reason," she said, then twisted her head towards her passenger seat. "Come on, she's passed everything! Just let her collect her money!"

 

"Narcissa can slide it out the window or the door," Hilda said, her voice a stark contrast to her appearance. It carried a softer vibe. "You don't need to get in here."

 

"I'm not interested in the money any longer!" I said.

 

"W-what?!" Narcissa said. "Then why'd you make me come here?!"

 

"Join me for lunch! If you do, I'll return the crowns you brought and even say you paid it."

 

"…Why are you doing this?!"

 

"Join me, and I shall shed light on why!"

 

Faint droplets clacked against the roof tunelessly while Narcissa and I remained silent.

 

"Fine!" she said at last. "Just give me five minutes!"

 

I frowned. That time choice seemed peculiar. What did Narcissa need five minutes for? "Come to Cain Manor when you're ready," I said, deciding to investigate later. "I'll have you escorted in."

 

"Shoo!"

 

My hands clenched for a second, but I unclenched them and took my victory.

 

I rose back up and stepped backward, refusing to remove my gaze in case Hilda tried anything, and took in what occurred. First, I thought about how absurd our exchange ended up. Then I wondered if she was contacting Ozon. If she was, were the others in on it as well? If so, why? I wished I had cloned her phone more than ever. Well, at least I lured her in, I thought, muzzling my curiosity.

 

Another realization dawned upon me as I rushed back to Cain Manor: Vincent’s attraction was a potential asset if played well.

 

The infiltration technique I had in mind, the offer, wasn’t the strongest gambit I possessed. Under normal circumstances, it isn’t the best at garnering trust. What’s more, I couldn’t picture my status as a person of interest aiding me. I had intended to utilize that to my advantage by framing myself as seeking to prove myself, but it wouldn’t be necessary to convince them – or suppose I should say, Vincent – to invite me to join.

 

Vincent stood on the path to Cain Manor, where he accepted an umbrella from one of his Damatessa.

 

“No need to rush.” He strolled closer to me. “I’m more than happy to share.”

 

I forced a smile. Enduring Vincent was easier said than done.