Page 7 of Seduce & Destroy

God, it was annoying. She stuck in my mind as ivy clung to an old brick house, and as much as I wanted to tear it down, it had become part of the facade—a natural protective barrier of luscious softness that warmed the coldness of my stoned exterior. My dad taught me attachments ruined things, yet the leafy vines wrapped around my heart. I dared not rip them from my walls. What if I lost my sparkle?

“Welcome to your first day,” she said as I reached her, the tear stains from last night covered by a light sheen of powder. “This way.”

I followed her deeper into the house, its shadowy alcoves teeming with unspoken whispers that made me look over my shoulder more than once. Its opulence obnoxious. “I hope you found rest in your sleep last night.”

Distance hadn’t solved my predicament. Maybe proximity would. I had to get closer for the vines to unravel, I was sure of it, so here I was. My foot in the door was a junior enforcer.

“Somewhat.” She replied, stiffly. “What is your role here anyway?” Her tone wasn’t unkind, but less than welcoming as she opened a large wooden door into an office adorned with familiar family portraits and landscape paintings.

“I’ve been assigned to assist with the recent…disturbances to the syndicate.”

Laney winced, and her eyes turned to meet mine, red, in either anger or grief, I wasn’t sure. “Disturbances?” She spat. “You mean the death of my grandfather?”

“He had only disappeared when I was recruited but, yes.” I breathed. When I reached out a hand to comfort her, she pulled away and sat behind the desk in the room, far away from me.

I dropped down in a chair opposite to her, legs crossed.

She stared me down, teary eyed but holding firm eye contact, assessing. “And you think you can help?”

I straightened my back. “I know I can.”

Before she could respond, the door opened behind me. I didn’t turn but I heard the sound of heavy boots approaching me, and then a tall man came into view, probably in his mid-forties but with gelled, slick back hair.

“Forrester,” Laney greeted him.

I stood to rival his height and extended my hand. “Kenna Whether, Sir.”

He eyed my hand suspiciously and turned to Laney.

“Kenna will be joining us as an enforcer,” she said. So, she already knew about me. I didn’t let her admission show in my posture as I faced off with this man.

Forrester looked me up and down in return. He was imposing, and wore a distressed, navy-blue jacket that looked like he had owned it his entire career.

I stood perfectly still, feet shoulder length apart, straight back and my hand remaining outstretched.

“Charming,” he conceded, taking my hand into a tight grip.

I could only lift an eyebrow as a response.

“Right,” Laney nodded, “Please, allow Kenna to accompany you on your rounds of the estate and pinpoint the areas she will be working in.”

“Of course,” Forrester pointed a guiding hand toward the door. “Follow me.”

I stepped out first, walking into the darkened hallway.

“I’ll be in my office,” Laney said from a distance now. Office? I wondered what position she held in the structure of the Ravencroft Estate. It seemed she was well respected, but she wouldn’t have handed me off to this man if she were on the enforcement side.

He led me down the stairs and soon the carpeted floors were replaced by concrete as we descended to the lower levels of the house at the back. The deeper we got into the back corners of this manor, the more I thought that the grandeur of the place would end. But it didn’t. Despite the dampness, each door handle was polished gold.

“So, you are the new recruit?” He asked.

The uncertainty in his voice pinched at my confidence. If I was to succeed in this role, I needed him to trust me and so far, I only saw doubt in his eyes. “I prefer asset,” I said.

He scoffed. “We’ll see yet.” We stopped in front of an engraved wood door, and Forrester stood to the left of it, paused. “Inside,” he demanded.

Pushing the door open, I wasn’t expecting the fluorescent light that flooded the room in a cold glow. Inside, the maroon painted walls were covered in blueprints of the property and maps of Great Tenor and London. Photographs and files were scattered on a large table in the middle, marked with red and black ink.

“This is your war room,” I deduced, my voice low.

---