34. Chapter Thirty-Four Ink and Ashes
Chapter Thirty-Four: Ink and Ashes
Tess
I didn’t have any clients due for tattoo appointments until Tuesday, so on Monday, I opened the shop and took a moment to admire the place. The lights were off, but the morning sun shone through the front window, swathing a warm glow over the familiar space. My station was exactly where it always was, just as I had left it, neat and orderly. Ivan’s station stood untouched as well, a silent evidence of his absence. He wouldn’t return.
“There you are,” said Oscar. “I knew you’d be back.”
“You knew no such thing,” I retorted, glad to hear his voice again.
“So you’re free, huh?”
I scanned the room, trying to internalize that reality. Ivan wouldn’t be back. The thought sent a rush of warmth, an unfamiliar looseness through my shoulders.
The walls were lined with artwork, a blend of framed sketches and photographs of past clients showcasing their tattoos. The hum of the sterilizer and the soft whir of the ceiling fan were the only sounds accompanying me as I made my way to the back of the shop. “It seems so. Be right back.” I tiptoed to Ivan’s office, the worn wooden floor creaking softly under my feet.
When I twisted the knob, it didn’t move. “Locked. Of course, it is.” I needed to get the key from the drawer Ivan hid next to his station chair.
He didn’t know I was aware of any of the secrets I’d covertly discovered over the past decade with him. Ivan would have been horrified to find out how much I knew about his operations.
I could run Empire Decay Ink on my own. Easily.
“It’s in his drawer,” said Oscar.
I giggled. “How do you know that?” With a quick, furtive glance around the shop, I moved to Ivan’s station. The drawer slid open with a quiet rasp, and I found the key exactly where I knew it would be. Its cold metal felt reassuring in my hand.
“I know things,” he answered ominously.
He really did. “I missed you and your arrogance.” I returned to his office door, the key slipping smoothly into the lock. The click of the mechanism seemed louder in the hushed room, a final break from his control.
“Of course you did.” His voice was muffled, coming from the adjacent room.
As the door swung open, I peered inside. The office was cavernous, the blinds drawn tight. Dust floated in the slivers of light that pierced through the gaps. The air was stagnant with old paper files and the faint hint of Ivan’s whisky. His desk was cluttered with stacks of paperwork, ink bottles, and sketches, all remnants of his presence. The leather chair sat empty, a symbol of the power he once held.
I stepped inside, the room’s atmosphere heavy with the ghosts of the past. This space, once a source of intimidation, now felt like the final frontier of my liberation. I could almost hear the echo of his voice, barking orders, but it faded quickly in the silence. Standing there, I realized just how much control I now had. The shop would be mine, and with Ivan gone, I could truly make it my own.
Rifling through the disordered stack of papers on Ivan’s desk, I sifted out a pile of important bills and letters to bring home and review. The crisp rustling of paper filled the room with the faint smell of ink and aged documents. Sunlight slipped through the half-closed blinds, painting a warm, dappled pattern over the cluttered desk. The gentle glow accentuated the worn edges of the scattered papers.
I turned my attention to the filing cabinet, its metal surface cold and slightly dusty to the touch. Each drawer creaked in protest as I pulled them open, searching for the deeds to the shop. The cabinet’s contents were an amalgam of meticulously labeled folders and haphazardly stuffed files. As I dug deeper, the faint smell of musty paper grew stronger, and the underlying aroma of Ivan’s cologne seemed to linger everywhere.
Finding the deeds, I carefully examined them, the paper slightly yellowed with age but still legible. My mind raced with thoughts of how to get myself signed on as the owner. Did Ivan have a will? Was there a next of kin who might come sniffing around? In the ten years I’d worked for him, he had never mentioned family at all. The possibility that someone could emerge from the shadows, claiming ownership, sent a hollow feeling through my gut .
I continued my search, hoping to uncover any more clues about his personal affairs. The desk drawers yielded little more than old receipts and business correspondence. Each piece of paper I touched seemed to tell a story of Ivan’s secretive nature. The quiet room, with its faint lighting and the rhythmic ticking of a nearby clock, felt like a vault of hidden secrets, each layer peeling back to reveal more questions.
As I brought out the stack of papers I needed to take home, the reality of my new responsibilities settled in. The shop’s future rested on my shoulders. The silence of the office, once oppressive, now felt like a canvas of possibilities. I had the knowledge and the drive to make this place my own, but first, I had to find out what obstacles lay in my way. The sense of freedom was exhilarating yet tinged with a nervous anticipation for what lay ahead.
“What did you find?” asked Oscar, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Bills, letters, deeds.”
“Good. So we’re staying?”
“I hope so. If I can find a way to legally get the deeds signed to me.”
“You just need to find the right mage for that.”
“Yeah, that would be easier than a lawyer. I can probably do it myself, but I’d like to find someone more experienced to avoid making a bigger mess and needing them anyway to undo a big legal challenge. I’ll see who I can find.”
“It’s going to be so refreshing to never see him again.”
I laughed. “It is. I’m going to go home now. See you tomorrow, okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere, Tess.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know. Bye, Oscar.”