Beggar

Chapter 24: "Where is the girl?"

Merek

Merek had the Gods damn book, it didn't mean he wanted to keep it. Oh no, the girl, that witch, she was right, the pages— the whole damn thing, came out of the fire untouched. Coated in ash, his throat thick from the grey air, him and his men brought it back with them from the estates remains.

Going back to that place, the white marvel coated in dirt and ash, wood sticking up out of the ground like a ribcage— what remained on the grounds was a skeleton of all the Crime Lord built up and what his mistress took away and stripped him of. Now they lived here, a place the Crime Lord would marry his bride and get it all back and more, or so he thought.

It had been a fools errand, maybe it still was but Victoria had warned them it wouldn't of burned. She had also warned them not to open it, not to read it, and that he had no problem with.

"It's very nice to meet you all," Victoria had a manicured hand wrapped around the Crime Lord, and hugging her waist strapped the oldest damn dagger he had ever seen. Merek had pondered why he hadn't been sent to fetch that instead of a fucking wizards diary. But, he thought, the Crime Lord had never let the girl bear weapons, how close had she gotten to him?

Oh, she was most definitely a witch, but when this was all done, he would leave her be despite it. Never mind it, Merek bowed along with the rest of the staff. The personal cooks and healers Merek knew personally, but only his guardsmen and women knew about their contract to kill the Crime Lord.

Sayter Hamel never changed his staff, unless they betrayed him or sold him out to someone would he rehire, after dumping their remains into the Elk River. Or if they quit, but Sayters staff never quit, they were required to live among the premises, to be his things, and Merek didn't particularly like being owned. They were paid well and fed for free, it was a good job for the lower class, and Merek and his watchmen hadn't realized they would get so much more with what they were offered.

The Crime Lord muttered something in Victorias ear, and she nodded vaguely.
She squeezed tighter to his side before letting go, and the Crime Lord had only said,
"Brom, please come see me."

Come to see Brom? The witch wouldn't of sold them out, he had her book and she had hated him furiously. Though he wasn't in her position, and had only known they were about one of the same. She would sell him out for sheer pleasure if she didn't need him. Brom only nodded, she could run if the Crime Lord attacked, but to run now would be..

That was not an option. Brom found her way to follow Crime Lord, Victotia stuck at his side.

Up his sleeve, Merek fidgeted with a small roll of torn velcro, and waited for the order to have them all killed.

He always felt like it would come one day.

Brom

His office was smaller, and with no windows. But Brom doubted the Crime Lord cared for size. Not with the size of Victorias tits.
"I would like for you to be Victorias personal guard while I am away,"

Brom's attention snapped back to the Crime Lord, his expression thick with scorn. She looked to Victoria, who smirked wickedly at Brom with her legs over the Crime Lords lap. Brom knew better than to contradict the Crime Lord, "Yes, sir."

"Of course," he laid a hand over Victorias, "That also comes with a heavy weight to you. Know that if she is ever severely hurt, kidnapped, raped, anything, if anything happens to my wife," The Crime Lord went on to explain a method he most often used known as hamstringing, a way of crippling a person so that they cannot walk properly by severing the hamstring tendons in the thigh, a crueler alternative to tying someone down to torture them. Then he explained how he would go on with his other methods, whipping, beating, skinning, force- feeding rather unpleasant substances, flaying, impaling— really Brom could of dosed off with him had going on for the while. She didn't have the nerve.