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The mansion was a display of classic grandeur, old money wealth, prestige. It was the home of a member of the Merchant Council. It was years of wealth, sons born with silver spoons, a foundation kept intact by money bled from the poor, the naive, the unfortunate.
The mansion was mocking to Kaz Brekker, it was a steady stream of generational wealth.
Kaz sucked in his distaste and began his walk towards the imposing home. A home this old and monumental had to be brimming heirlooms and secrets, both detrimentally invaluable to both the Havemeyers- the owners of the mansion -and Kaz Brekker- the man who would steal from said owners.
Now, Kaz didn't plan this little theft beforehand. Frankly, he was just invited to a dinner at the Havemeyer mansion by Wylan and Jesper. But there was no way Kaz was going to pass up the opportunity to scour the home of one of the richest families in Ketterdam, one of the richest and oldest families on the Merchant Council.
Now what sort of thief would that make him?
A guard noticeably stood straighter as Kaz neared him, muscles tensing and eyes struggling not to turn and look at Dirtyhands himself. Kaz resisted the urge to smirk to himself, he was famous, though perhaps notorious may be a better word to describe the man.
He was a cripple, walking with an uneven gait supported by a cane with a crow's head, yet he felt taller than the guards littered around the premises. He needn't look at their faces to feel the tension that radiated off their bodies, all at the mere sight of him.
The taste of power was delicious, a sort of high he hadn't really felt before. Being feared by criminals was a mediocre feeling, but being feared by those who technically were able to arrest and assert authority over you was wonderful.
Though, even with those narcissistic thoughts swimming though his head, Kaz didn't fail to memorise the layout of the floor; the entrance, the doors and the position of the guards.
"No offense, Wylan, but this place is even more impressive than your dad's place!" Jesper grinned widely as he spun around, taking in the elegance of the ground floor.
Its floors were of dark wood, polished and shiny and its pale blue walls as well as the pillars that lined them, sported golden embellishments. There were few paintings to be seen, the only available ones seemed to be of family members, uninteresting to Kaz.
"The Havemeyers are older than us, richer too. My father talked about them alot," Wylan's tone grew quieter, darker. He lowered his head, his ruddy gold curls falling lightly over his forehead, "Apparently, they've got this really smart kid. Some kind of prodigy."
Kaz spared the boy a glance, then he looked up at Jesper. The Zemeni male's demeanor changed as he attempted to cheer Wylan up.
"You're smart too, Wy." He laid a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently.
