Bitter Sweets

Chapter 7: The Gilded Cage

The email was brief—nothing too urgent right now, just a list of witnesses to check in with later and a scheduled meeting with Edward. Mrs. Todd had set it for 1:00 PM, giving us enough time to follow up on a lead first. The main draw of the email, though, was the attached photos provided by the police.

Despite his demeanor, Kane was still a kid, so I wasn't surprised to find him leaning over my shoulder, peering at the screen. He grinned impishly as he studied the photo of Max's body.

"They must've been in a rush with Max. He got lucky—assuming it was the Brotherhood," Kane said casually.

I turned to him as we walked, my eyes narrowing as I took in his amused expression. "Lucky isn't exactly the word I'd use," I replied dryly.

Kane shrugged, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, you don't know much about gang life, then. Spent too much time at home with Mommy?"

My jaw tightened at the mention of my mother. My parents weren't a topic I liked to discuss. "It'd help if she weren't in prison," I shot back evenly.

Kane paused, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he chose his next words more carefully. "Point is, the Brotherhood usually likes to torture their victims first. Their M.O. is cutting off the hands of their targets before killing them. That's how they got their name. The 'Red Hand' is their warning—a message to anyone stupid enough to cross them. They're brutal. Not a gang you want to mess with."

I smirked faintly. "Oh, I'd much rather get involved with a nicer gang. You know, like the 'Black Vultures.' Real peaceful neighborhood club."

Kane chuckled, his good humor reminding me of his brother. "We might not deal candy to the local kids, but we aren't savages like the Red Hand. Those guys are animals. Plain and simple."

I nodded, mulling it over. "That does seem excessive for a street gang. More like something you'd expect from a cartel. If they did murder Max, though, it's clear they didn't want the crime linked to them. That raises the question: why?"

"Obviously that is why we are digging," Kane said, his tone mocking. "So, what's first on our list, lawyer boy?"

I offered, "The Montclair family might be a good start. Namely Lady Vivienne Montclair. Got a location?"

Kane's devilish grin widened. "That bratty rich girl? She lives off Fisher Boulevard. You haven't seen their estates?" He gave me a sideways glance. "What do you even know about the Montclair family?"

The building we were headed to was only a short walk away. Most of my stops today have been close. The Montclair estate was located in the wealthier part of the city but still close enough to the less savory areas to hint that Vivienne wasn't in perfect standing.

I replied, "I don't venture too far outside the south side of the city. From what I know, the Montclair family is one of the Twelve—the families that helped build this city."

Kane chimed in, his voice thick with disdain. "Right. And as I'm sure you're aware, each of those families is tied to the law and government. Their unique... gifts have always been passed down genetically."

"Their 'sweet,' right?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Exactly," Kane said with a nod. "Each family uses their little gifts to cement themselves as one of the three foundations of Sweetwater." He said the last part mockingly, making it clear he had no love for the Twelve.

He continued, "Each of the Twelve holds a different place in Sweetwater. The Montclairs are no different. These families have always been assigned twelve distinct roles—jobs they have absolute authority over."