𝐿𝐼𝑀𝐼𝑇𝐿𝐸𝑆𝑆 | 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐍

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

—𝐵𝑜𝑏𝑏𝑦—

𝐈

𝐁𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐙𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 wallet that was just handed to him.

The thick stack of notes wasn't what he cared about, nor were the credit cards. He was far more interested in the black business card that, in gold letters, stated:

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐄 𝐊𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐑
𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

He flipped it. In the same gold, was the crown logo of Kings.

He had the bait. Now all he needed to do was lay out the trap.

Later that evening, Bobby stared at the same crown logo that was lit at the top of the Kings building.

It was late—just a little before midnight—though for most of the people on the street, the night had just begun.

This was one of the nicer areas of Yatana. Luxury cars sped down the well-lit streets while people, dressed to the nines, walked past the tall buildings and into booming clubs. Bobby was sure he looked pretty out of place—this wasn't the kind of place he'd usually go to for fun. 

His eyes lowered to the entrance. Obviously, it wasn't an easy place to get into; there were two stone-faced bouncers allowing select people inside. He was sure he'd get tackled if he were to try walking in. 

From where he was standing—an alleyway that hid him from the bright lamps—he had a perfect view of both sides of Kings. He leaned against the wall, chewing the nuts he had brought along.

He peered at the side of Kings, where the staff entrance was. The people going through this entrance weren't as dressed up as the ones walking through the red-rope barriers. These were the people he could blend in with. Over the sound of the bustling city, he could faintly hear the beeps of the metal detector that the security guard was waving.

The wallet tightly clutched in his hand, he headed over to the staff entrance side. He had a much better chance of not being brushed off based on his appearance.

He approached the guard that wasn't busied by the line. He was met with a mean gaze, but as soon as Bobby showed him the wallet and requested him to let him give it to Queenie, the guard gestured for him to follow.

The other security guard waved the metal detector over him, and as soon as he was cleared, he followed the first guard into the building.

He was led into a large kitchen, which was nearly bursting with people wearing white coats and chef hats. The fluorescent lights highlighted the dishes that were clearly only fit for the wealthy as they were placed onto the metal shelves.

He could hardly hear himself think over the sounds of shouting and all the clattering of cookware. He and the guard leading him were paid no mind by the workers they walked past.

They crossed the entire kitchen before turning into a hallway and stopping at a white door. A gold nameplate for Queenie was hung on the door.

The guard knocked. "Madam?"

"Yeah?" replied a woman—Queenie—from the other side of the door.

The guard opened the door and looked back at Bobby, who hastily stepped inside.

The office was well-decorated—though he didn't expect anything less, considering the amount of cash that Kings brought in. Photos of Queenie posed with various people lined the brown walls.

Queenie was sitting at her desk, half-hidden behind her laptop. Her face was not unfamiliar—Bobby had seen enough of it in the newspapers (and also Lucky's surveillance photos). She looked pretty much the same: tightly-knit dark eyebrows, her hair tightly pulled back, and what seemed to be a permanent scowl on her face.