Intense

I lean toward her, glancing around. Nobody is listening or watching. I have to make my move. “I know The Syndicate keeps files on everyone that hires them. My father, he’s used them before, and he’s a bad man. I need his file.”

She blinks. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Please,” I say. “I have ten thousand dollars in cash on me. I’m willing to pay you more. A lot more.”

“How?” she says, laughing. “That’s insane. This is insane.”

“Look.” I take the envelope and show her quickly. Her eyes widen in shock. “It’s real,” I say.

“Where did you get all that?”

“The man I was sold to. He’s helping me. Well, we’re helping each other. Doesn’t matter. But now I need you, and we’ll pay.”

She looks at me like I’m an insane person. I stare at her, desperate.

“Okay,” she says. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

Relief tumbles over me like a wave. “Thank you,” I say.

“Just let me get my phone and get changed. I’ve been in this all day. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” I say. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” She smiles, stands, and quickly walks away.

I watch her go, feeling nervous but relieved for the first time since this all started. I don’t know what I’d do if she didn’t show up, but she did, and she’s willing to help.

I sit there and two minutes turns into five minutes which turns into ten. Slowly, I start to look back over that conversation, and I realize something.

She never asked how much we’d pay her. She never asked anything, in fact. She just said she’d help me and then quickly left the room. It doesn’t take you ten minutes to get changed and to grab your phone.

“Fuck,” I say softly to myself and stand. I realize my mistake, but it’s too late.

Four men and the woman from earlier walk into the room. They instantly zero in on me, all their eyes on me. They walk in my direction and everyone is staring.

I’m screwed. Lisa betrayed me, stabbed me in the back, but can I really blame her? I came on too strong, like a total crazy person. She probably thinks I’m some kind of police informant or something crazy like that. She probably thought she was doing the right thing.

Maybe she was. Maybe I’m stupid for thinking I could pull this off. Well, clearly I am, because it’s not going to happen.

I’m going to be given back to my father. I can say goodbye to the life I wanted.

I’m going back to hell.

“Come with me, Aria,” the woman says. She looks even more annoyed than she did before.

“No,” I say. “I can’t go back to him.”

She sighs. “Please. Just come. I promise you we aren’t giving you to your father.”

I pause then nod. What else can I do? The big men could just pick me up and carry me off if I refused.

They lead me down a series of hallways until finally we stop outside a pair of ornate double doors. The woman steps up and opens them.

“Go ahead,” she says, ushering me inside. She stops short of entering herself and slowly shuts the doors behind me.

I walk into the room, looking around. It looks like a library or a study in some rich English person’s home. It’s beautiful, full of leather-bound books, and there’s a fire roaring at the far end in a large ornate fireplace. In front of the fire are two chairs, and sitting in one of the two chairs is a very small and very old woman.

As I walk toward her, she holds up a hand. I pause and wait. Finally, she drops her hand, and I finish my approach.

“Hello,” I say. “I, uh, was told to come here.”

“My name is Lorraine,” she says. “I guess you could say that I’m the Madame around here.”

My heart flutters in my chest. I’ve heard of this woman. She’s the head of The Syndicate, an old time mobster, a killer, a badass. Her white hair is pulled back in a thick braid that hangs loosely over one shoulder. She wears a thick black cardigan and khaki pants with stylish shoes and beautiful jewelry. Frankly, she looks like a nice grandmother, but I know better than that.

She’s a ruthless killer.

“Sit down,” she says, more of an order than anything else.

I sit in the chair next to her. She looks at me, a slight smile on her face.

“I hear you’re looking for information,” she says.

I sigh and look at the ground. “I’m sorry,” I say.

“How much is Ethan willing to pay?”

I pause and then look up at her. She smiles.

“We’re not stupid, dear,” she says. “And we don’t like your father.”