Page 8 of Seduce & Destroy

A heavy thump announced the closure of the door. Forrester came beside me and leaned on the expansive table. “Correct. As we moved our operations underground, this became our hub for planning, strategy and execution.” He pointed toward the back wall that was covered by various sized screens showing CCTV streams and apparent drone footage. “Every plan must be seen until completion, I’m sure you understand the delicacy of it all.”

I tried to keep my eyes focused on him, but they desperately wished to take in every corner of the room. “I understand.”

“Good.” He pushed himself off the table and sat in a chair in front of the screen wall. Silently, he scrutinised me as I sat beside him. “As an enforcer, you are trusted to maintain order, conceal the Ravencroft operations and perform complex security measures. This isn’t simply a game of muscle, it is a tightrope of strategic offences and subtle surveillance.”

Over the next hour, the history of the Ravencroft Estate was laid out. Their debts, disputes and alliances were all interlinked in the security protocols and operations of the current syndicate. He passed me files to examine to identify the weak spots of the operations and predict their outcomes.

In those moments, I had to actively slow my breathing. My family prioritised the art of tactical violence ahead of literacy in my home education. Even at twenty four, reading was difficult. I scoured the sentences for words I recognised and filled in the rest with context clues, concocting a meticulous chronology of my action plan for the operation. I hoped Forrester didn’t sense my hesitation. If he did, he didn’t show it, but something in his demeanour told me that this wasn’t a man you could easily read.

“Place your trust in me.” I inched closer to him, imploring these words. “Physical manpower is only effective when integrated with an extensive digital tracking system. Without the necessary protocols on hard drive storage and surveillance geo-tracking, offences are at risk.”

He leaned back in his seat. “Ah, that’s right, you might be useful after all.”

“Told you,” I said in calculated charm. “I’m an asset.”

The laugh that I’d expected to hear didn’t come. Instead, a serious expression came to his features. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, young lady. Loyalty is paramount. You’ve got to earn your place here, trust isn’t freely given.”

I blinked slowly. “I’ve got this.”

“You’ll be integrated gradually. Tomorrow, you start with the new cadets at base training. Don’t be late.”

When I left the war room, my mind was filled with layers of information that lacked the glue to understand them. The intrigue of this place magnified the web of secrets it tried to hide. Somewhere in this estate lay the answer to my questions, but they are questions that haven’t fully formed yet.

The next morning, I joined the cadets in initiation. The training wing was by the barracks at the back of the house, away from the winding corridors and aged artwork. Instead, we were immersed in chipped white brick walls and a cold floor padded with blue mats.

After attending training for four days, they had taught me nothing but how to land a right hook. At least, the cadets had been more useful though. Often, they discussed the circumstances leading to Edward's demise. Rumours ran around the foot soldiers, each theory more elaborate than the last. Some said Edward’s backroom gambling went sour. Others blamed a territorial dispute, few people loved having made men as neighbours. A few dared to whisper about a Karstein plot. Not many people talked about the Karsteins since the fissure, even among the wider underworld communities, people who did routinely shared the fate of poor Eddy.

But more importantly than that, the cadets were quick to reveal that Laney worked in security. Finally, something useful.

A groan rumbled deep in my throat when I reached the door to the drill room. Grant O’Doherty stood at the front of the room, a stopwatch in hand. His large stature loomed over the group with his bulging muscles and tight t-shirts, he didn’t leave much up to the imagination. I had no patience to be in a room with a man that high on the scent of his own sweat, nor did I have the energy to interact with the boys, yes boys, that filled the lower ranks of the Ravencraft estate’s reserve.

“Miss Whether you’re late.” Grant pointed toward the open door leading to the paved driveway that stretched to the front gates in the far distance. “Two miles. To the gates and back.”

Walking toward the exit, I tried my hardest to keep my eyes from rolling. “Jesus, just give me a laptop already,” I muttered under my breath, though perhaps not as softly as I had thought. “Put me in active duty.”

“You want four or something?” Grant came in close to my side, as I walked slowly. At the proximity I could see the black ink that wrapped around his arm and twisted to hide below his shirt. “GO!”

The urge to scream back at him was immense. I was meant to be a junior enforcer, my physical fitness had nothing to do with my performance in strategy. All this base training did was withhold and reroute me from doing my job. In a time of war, time was of the essence. Guess they never told the Ravencrofts that. Perhaps, they grew too comfortable in this gold-plated horror house.

My feet stomped on the floor as my thoughts ran rampant. I’d had enough of this rat race. At least put me behind a screen watching the breeze hit the trees on the heaps of CCTV that littered the grounds. But no, had me run.

On the bright side, it got me away from the other cadets. Because I was the only girl starting eyes seemed to find me in a room more readily than blonde boy #4. I hated it. The attention, the assumptions and the look of opportunity that gleamed in the eyes of some of these boys. Vile. Another day to be grateful that I liked girls instead.

Breaking into a swift jog when my feet hit the pavement of the circular driveway in front of the mansion, I headed in the direction of the front gates. As I did, a man in a black SUV with the door open and cigarette alight, his predatory eyes trained on me.

Forrester Waite. Forty-five. Enforcer. Jacked. The cadets told me about him, saying that he was some top dog, but honestly, he likely got hard at girls’ tears. His power was a rouse.

I paid him no mind as I continued running past him but the path of his eyes on my body burned into my skin. Gross. Get to the treeline, just get to that treeline.

Once I felt the protection of the forest on either side of me, I picked up my pace. The driveway wound into a single-track road hugged by luscious green trees. It was still morning, and the air was light with a fresh breeze shuffling the leaves. It was finally peaceful.

My legs begin to ache halfway to the gate. I volunteered for this job to help my family. Truly, I couldn’t afford the distraction. If they knew I was here to get under Laney Ravencroft they’d hand in my two weeks before I could say a single word. This is so wrong.

The Ravencroft Estate was haunting. It gave off the aura of a coveted place, harbouring secrets that have aged into the landscape, but despite its history, it felt familiar. The whispers and rumours echoed along hallways decorated with family heirlooms and commissioned artworks, they sang a familiar tune. I just needed to untangle it to understand. Beneath the grandeur hide the strict regimen that the people here followed. The outward wealth was a fallacy for inner turmoil bursting to be revealed but remained captured by the old brick walls. It was nice to step away from it for a while.

Reaching the gate, I allowed myself a brief moment to rest. Weaving my arms through the metal bars to relax my back onto it and tilting my head back with closed eyes, I breathed deeply. A sound of mechanical movement peeled my eyes open as I looked straight into the lens of a CCTV camera. Goddammit. Peace was a fallacy, too. This nature was not untouched.

I ran into the forest for a moment, seeking some reprieve from watchful lenses between the thicket bushes and into the trees. It was here that the pungent smell hit my senses. A musk of iron and heated sweat mixed with decaying fruits. Following the scent deeper into the brush, it didn’t take me long to find the cause of it.

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