Corrupt Secrets

Chapter 4 - A Blade in the Dark

Trigger Warning: This scene contains themes of sexual assault, graphic violence, physical abuse, and injury.

"No," Elara says flatly, her expression remaining cold and unreadable.

I blink, my brows knitting together in disbelief. The biggest deal we could ever land, and we say no. This whole brothel could retire off what we'd wring from this overinflated, half-shaved raccoon of a man. We've taken bigger risks before.

What frustrates me even more is the emptiness of Elara's mind. No useful secrets, no hidden truths—just an irritating buzz that's driving me insane.

"Just imagine the possibilities, dear Odessa." Elara leans back in her chair, propping her legs up on the counter, tilting so far back it nearly tips over. "We could live like royalty." Her fiery red hair spills over her shoulders, cascading down like a queen's cloak, every strand catching the dim light with an almost regal glow. Her smirk widens, eyes gleaming with the thrill of ambition.

A few flamboyant images flicker through her mind—her draped in silk, lounging in a grand castle, surrounded by servants as they hand-feed her grapes straight from the vine.

"Elaborate," I say, forcing myself to push aside the vivid desire that crossed her mind—one that's probably burned into my memory for good.

She swings her legs off the desk and leans in, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers. "Why chase after a handful of measly coins when you could have the entire treasury?" Her eyes sparkle with excitement, a sly grin curling at the corners of her lips.

I shake my head, torn between disbelief at her boldness or outright stupidity. "You want us to take this to the castle?" I've never even seen the castle up close. Our little town clings to the mountainside below, and from certain angles, I can just make out one of its highest towers—or at least, I think it's a tower. Could be a strangely shaped tree for all I know.

"We must," she insists, nodding vigorously, her smile stretching wide across her face.

"You honestly think we can just stroll in there and snag half the king's fortune?" I struggle to stifle a laugh, knowing full well how dangerous it is to offend Elara. While I don't exactly cherish my life, I definitely don't want to meet my end here of all places.

I remain calm, my mind racing as I craft the perfect response—one that shows her just how foolish she is without ever needing to speak. Keeping my composure, I let the silence stretch, my expression unreadable, knowing the message will land without a single word.

"This is no small task, and I can see it weighs heavily on you," she says, her tone softer than before. "I'll give you a day to consider it." Her eyes flicker with something—pity, disappointment maybe—but she doesn't say it outright. "But remember," she adds, her voice sharpening ever so slightly, "this stays between us." The unspoken demand in her gaze is impossible to ignore, a warning that lingers in the silence between us.

I nod, pretending to give her words more weight than I already have. In truth, I've already decided to refuse, but I'll let her think I'm wrestling with the decision. No need to rush. Let her believe I've seriously considered this suicide mission before I give her my answer. The longer I wait, the more convincing my reluctance will seem.

As if on cue, a soft knock echoes from the door, interrupting the tense silence between us.

"Come in," Elara calls out, her voice steady, though she sends me another pointed, warning glance—a silent reminder to keep my mouth shut. The weight of her gaze lingers, making it clear that no slip-ups will be tolerated.

Grayson steps in, his arms still smeared with dirt from whatever task had claimed his attention earlier. He remains blissfully unaware of the shadowy side work his wife handles here at the brothel. Sometimes, I wonder if Elara isn't the true mastermind behind it all. Grayson sticks to the maintenance—the repairs, the upkeep, keeping the place from falling apart. As for when Elara started running things, I can't say. But he doesn't seem to mind, either too trusting or too distracted to notice how much power she really wields here.