Chapter 28
Ines
Perched like a gargoyle atop a building in the Night District, I retie my mask as I wait for my prey to come out of the bar I followed him to.
When Montenegro slipped into his carriage outside Don Alejandro's house, he seemed agitated.
I would expect nothing less after the tongue lashing he received, but instead of going home as I assumed he would, he dropped his wife off in the Golden District and made his way to drink himself into a stupor.
Maybe in search of finding a working girl to plow.
After two hours of remaining vigilant, I begin to think I should rethink my assassination plot. But the thought dies the second I detect my mark. My vengeance is refueled, but I'm taken aback when Montenegro stumbles toward his carriage with a man in tow.
Interesting. Perhaps Montenegro doesn't have an eye just for the ladies.
I slip down from my hiding spot and when I make it to street level, I catch a glimpse of the second man's face. I recognize him. It's the warden from the prison.
I grin like a demon. Both men are on my list to kill. Perhaps the Saints are real and they're smiling down on me, offering up these two bastards on one silver platter.
The warden assists a wobbly Montenegro into the buggy. Once the driver slams their door shut, the warden lowers the window as they take off down the street. This is my chance. If I can pull this off, it will be the perfect crime.
I sprint, keeping to the shadows, and zigzag through the alleys to catch up to them before they reach their next destination.
I ensure no one is walking on this side of the Night District and when the carriage passes by, I slip out of the darkened lane and hop onto the back of the buggy.
Poking my head around the side of the carriage, I wait to see if the driver senses my trespassing presence.
When he doesn't, I thrust myself toward the door and with a swiftness that goes undetected by the driver.
I dive into the cabin via the open window, draw my guns, and aim the barrels at the two men seated inside.
They both flinch but before they can alert the driver, I pistol whip the warden against his temple before I cock both guns and zero in on Montenegro's chest.
Sweat drips down his flushed cheeks and his bottom lip trembles as he stares down the barrels of my revolvers. He's scared. Good. I want him to be scared at the end.
"What is the meaning of this?" He croaks, his attempts at sounding superior falling dreadfully short.
"Do you remember the night you had me arrested?" I ask point blank, sheathing one of my pistols and claiming the bench across from him, beside the sleeping warden.
"Arrested?" His brows pinch together.
"It seems you talk about me with your peers." I tilt my head to the side in amusement. "I didn't realize you and the warden were well acquainted. Did he tell you how your demand to have me executed for a petty, non-violent crime was overruled? Did he tell you I was released?"
Realization slowly floods Montenegro's face as I speak before a flash of anger sparks.
"He didn't tell you, did he?" I laugh when his shoulders tense. I've rattled him. "Or maybe that's what you two were meeting about tonight. Was he coming to warn you I might be looking for you?"
I see the exact moment hope drains from his face. "What do you want?" he rasps, desperation ripe in his voice. "Money? Jewels?"
A wicked smile slices across my face. "No," I say softly. "What I've come for is far more valuable than your coin or shitty trinkets."
His eyes widen and he swallows hard. "What would that be?" he trembles.
"Why your life, of course." I jerk my chin toward the warden's unconscious body. "And his freedom."
Before he can react, I flick my wrist, and my dagger rams into Montenegro's chest. I lunge for him before he can make a sound, wrench the knife free, and slide the blade across his neck.
Blood spills down his chest, staining his white dress shirt.
I check his pulse and when none is detected, I drop his arm and take a deep breath.
Now to stage the murder.
I wipe my blade clean with Montenegro's handkerchief before sliding it into its sheath.
Taking the warden's knife from the holster on his hip, I smear blood across it before placing it in his hand.
What is a crime scene without the murderer being covered in their victim's blood?
I make sure to splatter some of Montenegro's blood on the warden's lapel and hands before slipping out the same way I came.
I tuck and roll as the carriage keeps clipping onward toward the Golden District.
Undetected, I scale to the top of a nearby building and follow the buggy to Montenegro's house where I suppose he and the warden were going to have a nice private chat.
When the carriage pulls up to the entrance, the driver opens the door and screams upon seeing the bloody sight. Alerted to something troubling, servants spill out of the house, followed by the lady of the house, stumbling upon Montenegro's lifeless body and his presumed murderer inside.
I dangle my feet over the edge of a rooftop one street over and watch in glee as they drag the warden out of the carriage.
Senora Montengro's screams can be heard across the district.
It's a pity she married such a horrid man, but I suppose I did her a service.
She's now a very wealthy widow, free from the tainted hands of her much older husband.
The commotion stirs the Black Guard into investigating and when they come onto the scene the driver points an accusatory finger at the warden, spurring them to shackle his ankles and wrists behind his back.
"It wasn't me!" the warden cries out, just stirring back to life. "I swear on my life there was someone else inside the carriage – "
"We didn't stop to let anyone else on or off!" The driver interrupts, not backing down.
"There was a woman! She slipped in through the window – "
"Liar!" the driver screams.
"Take him to the Palace of Justice." The patrol leader snaps his fingers, and two Black Guards haul the warden to his feet and drag him away screaming in protest.
I watch from above, cloaked in shadow, as my makeshift plan to frame the warden for murder works perfectly. I kick my legs back and forth, invigorated by the evening's events.
The staff ushers Senora Montenegro back toward the house, but as she ascends the steps, she turns back to look at the horrific scene, and a small smile plays on her lips. She's free. And I've had my revenge.
"How does it taste?" A male voice sounds to my left.
I cock and aim my pistol in the voice's direction only to see Remus sitting on top of the chimney. He got the drop on me. If he had sinister motives, I would not have heard him coming.
"What?" I slide my gun back into its holster.
"Revenge," he says simply. "How does it feel?"
I glance across the street once more as they pull Montenegro's lifeless body out and drape a white sheet over his corpse.
"I would have preferred if both men were forced to stand public trial and have their atrocities made known to everyone, but I suppose this is satisfactory.
They certainly won't harm another person again. "
When I'm met with silence, I turn to meet his gaze and fear claws at my heart. Ordo Vulpe does not kill. And here I am, covered in another human's blood. I don't know what that means for me – or us – but I wish he'd say something.
"Remus – "
"This isn't the first time you've killed, is it?" His tone is clipped but not laced in anger.
I could lie, but I'm growing exhausted by living falsely. My shoulders droop and I exhale. "No." I come clean. "I've killed before."
Silence stretches for several seconds before he asks, "Who was it?"
I bite my bottom lip, debating how forthcoming I should be. Knowledge is power and secrets can be used as blackmail. When I meet Remus' awaiting face, flashes of last night pop into my head. At my most vulnerable, he made me feel safe. It's time I allowed myself to trust him.
"His name was Marco Salinas."
Remus stills and his eyes widen. "Don Ricardo Salinas' son?"
"I thought he loved me, but I was only flesh and a good time to him.
" I rub the back of my neck and hop up from my seated position and tiptoe on the top of the roof toward him.
"When he told me he was going to marry someone more suitable, I was confused.
He promised we'd be together and when I reminded him, he laughed at me.
He said I was nothing. I was no one. And I was a fool for believing he actually wanted a future with me.
" I perch next to Remus on the chimney, our thighs brushing.
"I was hurt and very angry. I threatened to tell his family about our secret affair.
I threatened to ruin his engagement if he denied me. " I stop.
This next part is hard to relive. Hard to share with the man I'm… the man I'm falling for. He rests his hand on top of my bouncing knee, and it propels me to finish telling him the whole truth.
I swallow hard and continue, "I don't remember him attacking me.
I only remember waking up hours later bloody, bruised, and broken.
It took me months to heal. It took me just as long to muster the courage to leave my apartment.
But it was then I decided I no longer wanted to be seen or treated as lesser because I was from the Brogratto.
So, I tracked Marco down and in the dead of night, masked by shadows and fog, I killed him. "
"And the body?" His voice sends a chill down my spine.
I stare across the expanse of the sleeping city and whisper, "I wrapped him in a blanket and tied weights around him in three places before I dumped his corpse in the canal."
Admitting my crime out loud gives me a sense of relief. I've never told another living breathing soul of my sin. Now, I wait to see if Remus will say anything. Will he condemn me or dispose of me since I don't align with the Ordo Vulpe code of conduct?
He removes his hand from my knee and my throat constricts. "Remus – "
Reaching for my chin, he turns me to look at him and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. "If he wasn't already resting at the bottom of the river, he would be tonight."
My chest aches, my heart races. "Why?"
"He laid his hands on you." His eyes darken. "No one touches what is mine."
"I'm not yours, Remus." I remind him, though my heart flutters at the thought of him claiming me.
He smirks and his eyes soften. "You are, and one day you'll admit it." He wraps his hand in mine but stills, the color drains from his face. Slowly, he lifts my hand and spots the ruby engagement ring I forgot to discard when I went hunting. "He asked you to marry him?"
"Why do you sound disappointed?" I retrieve my hand from his, suddenly uncomfortable. "Was that not what I was hired to do? I think a good job, Ines, is in order."
"You're right," he says solemnly. "Good job, Ines."
I did what was asked of me in record time. So, why do I feel like absolute shit?
A silence stretches between us as we look out over the starry night sky. In the distance the gold dome of the Teatro Castillo reflects the moonlight. Further across the city, Iglesia de los Santos is visible and if I squint, I can see the castle in the Royal District beyond the opera house.
Unable to bear the tension a moment longer, I say, "All my years of scaling buildings and running across rooftops, I never once stopped to admire just how beautiful the city is." I peer up at him and he's already looking at me.
"I never cared for the view until tonight," he admits and my stomach flips. I stare at his lips and lean closer, but he stands up and offers his hand. "Let's get you home. A murder of one of the elites will not be taken lightly. Everyone will need an alibi."
Though his rejection threatens to cleave my heart in two, I nod in agreement and keep my tears at bay. He's right. Everyone will need an alibi. Good thing I have one in Rogelio.