What Makes a Monster

♱Thirteen♱

Upon returning to the restaurant, I wait near the entrance. At least it's warm in here, even if I stand the entire time with a few other servants. However, the wait isn't all that pleasant and it takes all my willpower not to glare or say something about the obvious kissing up everyone is doing.

Lord Makai sits elegantly at the table, lips set into a thin line. His eyes are dark and devoid of interest or emotion for that matter. Yet all those around him are grinning and speaking animatedly, as if he's a close friend. Lebina and Artur are no different, although based on what I heard earlier they clearly don't like Lord Makai. No one does. The whole restaurant has this tense, cold sensation that is seen through the constant glares, rushed footsteps, or stiff customers.

The lords and ladies stand, all bowing graciously to His Grace when lunch is over. Once again, I sit in the front of the carriage on the return, but once we arrive Jeffro attempts to give us guides again.

"Your Grace, please allow my children, Artur and Lebina, to escort you through the facility. Artur is next in line for this position and Lebina has grown up here nearly her whole life," Jeffro says proudly, gesturing to his children that bow in acknowledgement.

Lord Makai cocks a brow then says, "The person next in line for your position is one most suitable for it."

Oh, I wanna laugh so bad. Hold it in. Hold it in, Wallie!

"Return to your duties. My butler and I will tour the facility. Should we be in need of assistance, I will let you know." Lord Makai ends the conversation with that, walking away unaware (but probably suspecting) of the fuming glares from Jeffro and his kids.

"Your pocketwatch, Your Grace," I say once we're walking through the quiet halls. I hand over the device that was safely stashed away in my pocket.

"Did you see anything?" Lord Makai asks quietly.

"Yes, well, heard to be more specific. On the fourth floor, office three, there was a woman shredding papers and a man ordering her to do so. He mentioned getting rid of the agreements and something about you being angry if you discovered your profits being sold off."

"Is that so?" He hums. I suspected he'd be angry, but there's almost a smile in his eyes.

Lord Makai stops outside a door leading to the large office we could see through the glass at the entrance. Before I open the door though, I ask, "You don't seem surprised by the news, Your Grace. Is that what this visit is truly about? Were you already aware that someone was stealing from you?"

"Congratulations, Wallace, you're not a total loss."

I'd get angry about that but I'm already a bit too angry about something else. Maybe that's obvious because Lord Makai tilts his head to the side.

"Does this happen often?" I ask, not even considering if I'm crossing a line by doing so until after I've already asked. Too late now though, might as well enjoy the view in hell if I've already sent myself to it.

"Do your workers often steal from you? There was one on the estate before too," I say more to myself than him.

"You really do ask a lot of questions, Wallace, most of which have an obvious answer."

That's the only response I get because Lord Makai opens the door himself and steps in, leaving me behind with a scowl. I suppose big corporations often have someone inside taking money, but deep down I know it has more to do with who, or rather what, Lord Makai is rather than the corporation itself.

"Wallace!"

I jump at the sharp call of my name, quickly rushing after His Grace.

Sure enough, Lord Makai really must have known about the thieves because he beelines his way to certain offices or people that practically piss themselves when he calls for them. A terrified silence befalls the once chaotic workspace. All are waiting on the edge of a knife, wondering who will be next.