"Fire in the hole!"

Loud thunderclaps sound in quick succession, accompanied by small orange flashes in the blackness of the tunnel before us. A quiet second settles. Then a final blast brings layers of rocks down to the tunnel ground. I feel the ground vibrate under my feet like an earthquake. Even my teeth clatter as a wave of dust comes to us from the dark abyss.

"Great job everyone!" Valerie yells. "Take five while the ventilators do their thing."

A long tube of fans above us whirls to life and begins filtering the dust and debris out of the tunnel and into the afternoon air above us.

We're a few miles out of the city, in the first abandoned half-built tunnel on the road to the warehouse. There's a bunch of equipment around us propping up the tons of rocks over our heads. People in neon green suits and yellow construction helmets are working on proper reinforcement, further detonation mapping, and upcoming debris cleanup, and Valerie is in charge of it all. I don't know why I'm even here.

She smiles and nods at everyone who passes her, but I see her face fall as soon as they're out of sight. When everyone's gone, she buries her face in her tablet, tapping the screen and scribbling notes with her stylus. She's wearing the same getup all of us are — the bright colours looking out of place on her usual dark palette clothing — and her long black hair is bound in a low bun. She's also wearing a layer of makeup, which is an odd choice for our environment. But maybe there's something more to that.

"Valerie-" I come up to her.

"I'm fine," she snaps at me, "I don't know why you think I wouldn't be. I'm absolutely fine, Tiago. I'm fine."

I blink. "I didn't even say anything."

"Well, you don't have to," she locks her tablet and rounds on me. "I see how you look at me as though I'm gonna faint at any minute. Don't do that. And don't ask me how I am or I'll stab your eye with this pen."

I show her my palms and back away slowly. "I was just-"

"I'm fine!"

O-kay. Well. Good talk.

I take a few steps back as Paul walks up and hands her a paper coffee cup. She thanks him and gives him a kiss.

So, not boy trouble then. He and I exchange nods as he leaves, and a small pang penetrates my heart as I think.

"Does Sienna know you're stealing her bodyguard?" I ask as she passes by me.

Again, she rounds on me. Some of her coffee spills over the mouth hole as she glares.

"Don't fucking talk to me about her," she hisses. "He's not just her bodyguard. I know your and your brothers' lives revolve around her, but ours don't."

Ah. There it is. Not boy trouble, Sienna trouble.

"Wanna talk about it?" I ask.

"No."

"Are you gonna be this snappy all day? Because I have at least ten things I'd rather do than listen to be at the other end of whatever this is."

"Is one of them getting to work?"

"Yes, actually. Got any for me?"

She looks dumbfounded at me. Her amber eyes dart back and forth across my face as the gears in her head turn. I smile. "Well?"

"You're the architect," she waves her hand in the opposite direction. "Go do... architechty things."

I chuckle at her ignorance.

"Great. Then I'll see you back at the house." I turn to leave.

"Where are you going?"

I look over my shoulder at her. "I can't do any more architecty things until you've done your engineery things."

Her face flushes pink as she looks at me with furrowed brows and an open mouth. Suppressing a laugh, I think about all the times Kaen has teased Sienna. This must be what it feels like. I like it.

"Fine," she snaps and turns around. "You can stay."

"Oh?" I step closer to her. "And why would I, if there's no use for me here?"

"Because," she turns back around and blinks as she sees me closer than expected. There's a pause as she raises her eyebrows and her eyes linger on mine.

Then she shakes her head and straightens her posture as if trying to regain her dignity. "Because I need moral support."

I raise an eyebrow. This reaction of hers most definitely elicits something in me I have to unpack later. "You have Paul."

Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times as she chooses her next words.

"From someone who knows something about—" she waves her hand to indicate the surrounding area. "Uh..."

"Tunnel-buildy things?"

"Sure," she blushes again. "So stay."

"What am I your dog now?"

"Fuck, whatever, just do what you want okay? I don't care!" She takes a sip of her coffee and cringes, quickly pulling it away and putting her free hand to her mouth. "Ow! Hot! Hot!"

She opens her mouth, pants, and fans her tongue like a cartoon character. I can't fight the laughter that escapes me as I gently take her coffee and watch her collect herself.

"Ith not funny!" she protests.

"It's hilarious," I say as my last chuckles escape me. "Are you alright, though?"

"Like you care!" she snaps and snatches her coffee back.

"I do—believe it or not. Your well-being is kind of crucial to our operation."

"Right," she sighs and I see her gaze go distant. Her annoyed frown slowly morphs into a melancholic wander. Like she's thinking of someone who died.

Quickly, though, she shakes her head and snaps out of it.

"I have to get back to work. Will you-"

"I'll stay," I give her a small smile. "But I should probably get to the surface and see what I missed."

I take my phone out and wave it for emphasis. She nods and I take my leave. As I make my way up, my mind replays our encounter. Her adorably stubborn insistence makes me smile to myself and, although I'm tens of feet below ground in a cold stone cave, I feel surprisingly warm. This is a turn of events I wasn't expecting.

Later. Unpack it later.

I look at my phone after I surface and watch its signal bars come into existence. Immediately, missed calls and messages fill my notifications. They're mostly related to our corporate ventures, which I take care of quickly. But one of them is not. I dial my underling's number and he answers immediately.

"What do you have for me?"

━━▲━━

"Val!" My voice echoes against the stone as I jog toward our demolition site. She turns as if startled by the sound of her name.

"Put someone else in charge," I say as I approach her. "I need you."

Her face sets as if in stone, and she doesn't ask any questions. Only nods and delegates her tasks to another before following me back to the exit.

"What's going on?" she asks as we walk.

"My men found Nico Antonis and lured him into my poker club."

"Pegleg's son?" her eyebrows fly up in surprise.

"Yeah. There's a girl with him; we need to hurry. Where's Paul?"

"Imari asked for his help. Do we need him?"

I admit that I feel a weight lift off of my shoulders when I hear that. "It's fine. We'll take my car, then."

Once above ground, we take off our protective gear and make our way to my Escalade. She lets her raven hair down; her curls cascade like black Damascus silk over her shoulders. Just as I'm about to round to the driver's seat, she grabs my arm.

"Tiago," the hardness in her voice gives me pause before I turn to her and, while her gaze is no less harsh than the tone of her voice, she doesn't look mad.

"Yeah?"

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" I ask as I rack my brain. "Val?"

She nods.

"May I ask why?"

Her breath hitches and holds. Her eyes water just slightly as she looks at me in sadness that makes my heart clench.

"Only one person calls me that," she says as she struggles to keep her voice steady.

And that's when it dawns on me.

I don't think I've ever felt anything this conflicting in my life. Not on the city streets with my brothers, not ordering hits on our adversaries, not even when I first took a life. Sure, stakes-wise, this doesn't compare, but back then I was faced with only two aspects of myself: the good and the merciless. Now, I can count at least three. How the fuck could I have missed something so obvious in hindsight?

I wonder if Sienna knows.

Valerie realizes that I understand, and a silent question hangs between us. Her eyes beg for my silence.

Oh, didst thou know my longings for thee, from day to day...

"I got you," I nod and see understanding of my meaning in her eyes. She releases me and I make my way to the driver's seat as she gets in.

I pause for a second. Just one second.

Later.

I get in and start the car. Neither of us talks until we're on the road.

"This is good," Valerie breaks the silence; back to business as though nothing happened. "We can free the poor girl, and he can tell us what the twins can't."

"How come?"

"If it's Pegleg Pete's operation, then he keeps certain things to himself, dedicates them only to his sons."

"It seems like it is—if those two who switched can be believed. But then why make a deal with the twins at all?"

"Ask Sienna, fuck knows she won't tell me anything."

I spare her a quick glance before bringing my eyes back to the road. "So that's what's been eating you."

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright," I raise my right hand off of the steering wheel in apology and rest my elbow on the console so I'm only driving with my left. "Forget I said anything."

She sighs and stays quiet for a few breaths before she speaks again. "They're better connected to Vasilios than Pegleg. They probably know the ins and outs of the whole thing on his end. That's probably why."

I nod as I process this.

"Who are these guys anyway? And why have we never heard about them?"

"You wouldn't. They don't like the spotlight and they usually prefer to stay in the shadows. You've probably seen them and mistaken them for his bodyguards. Think of them like Vasilios's secret weapon."

I nod again. "Imari sounded pretty rattled about them."

A bitter laugh escapes Valerie. "You have no idea."

I see her look at me from the corner of my eye. "They're merciless, Tiago. If something goes wrong..."

She trails off, leaving the implication hanging in the air between us. I squeeze the wheel in my hand and feel my jaw and insides clench. Fuck, Sienna, if anything happens to you...

When I speak, my voice is low and thick with resentment. "People have called me merciless too."

"Not like that," says Valerie, "I don't even think Kaen can compare."

Now I'm the one who laughs bitterly. We stop at a red light and I meet her eyes. "And how are you so sure about that?"

She purses her lips, holding my gaze for a long moment, then turns and looks ahead. "Kaen has a conscience."

With nothing to say to that, I wait for the lights to turn green and drive off.

━━▲━━

"So it's a speakeasy kinda club?" asks Valerie as she loads her gun.

We're across the street from a building with a big red sign that reads "Anton's Convenience" in bold white letters.

"Yeah," I say as I holster my Glock, "ready?"

I turn and see her lift her shirt as she holsters her gun in a Flashbang under her bra.

Well, that was unexpected. How did I miss her taking it out? I'm losing my edge.

"Ready," she says, "let's go."

I blink a few times and silently beg my mind to stop rattling. "Right."

A small smile spreads on her lips and red tints her cheeks ever so slightly. "Well?"

I clear my throat and snap out of it. "Let's go."

The door chime rings out in the small space when we walk in. Under the fluorescent lights, four aisles lead to a checkout stand where a big middle-aged man sits facing the wall where his laptop is, as always, propped on several milk crates. Low Russian voices sound from it. He turns to us when he hears the chime and nods at me.

"Anton," I nod back, "he still here?"

"Yes, Boss," although Anton speaks quietly, his bass—thick with a Russian accent—still resonates in the small space. "Suspects nothing."

I dig in my back pocket and throw a couple hundred on the counter. "Bonus. For your trouble."

Anton nods in thanks and grabs the bills with his callused, meaty hand. Maybe this time he'll finally cave and at least buy a proper desk for his laptop.

I turn to Valerie and gesture to our left where a door labelled "Utility" faces us. She follows my gaze and opens it. I walk into the utility room behind her and close the door, shutting out the noise of Russian movies and the ceiling fan outside. We're briefly bathed in darkness. I can hear her breathing and feel her hair brush against my chest as I feel for the latch. I don't know why I didn't just turn the light on.

I find it quickly and slide the hidden door open, letting in a wash of tungsten yellow light.

We put our backs to the right wall and unholster our guns, then screw on our suppressors. Before we start descending, I shoot off a quick text to my men, letting them know where we are. Then we slowly approach the landing and the archway on the right which opens up into the club proper. Just before we get to it, I hold out a hand to stop her. She gives me a baffled look, and I put my finger to my mouth, then to my ear. I bring my head closer to the edge and focus on listening.

Soft ruffles of shuffling cards, clicking chips, and quiet calls permeate the air. The bartender takes someone's order. A few glasses clink. Two muffled snaps of bone sound. My phone buzzes.

Both down, Boss.

I put the thing away and beckon Valerie forward. We walk through the tables swiftly. Two men on either side of the room hold corpses with their necks pulled back. The patrons don't react to anything. Some dealers and waiters glance at me but say and do nothing. The bartender — a brunette in her early twenties — nods at me and tilts her head to the private room door on her left. Valerie and I stand on either side. I type another text to my men. We cock our Glocks and wait.

Un elefante, dos elefantes, tres elefantes van. Un elefante, dos elefantes, tres elefantes... A roaring laughter erupts from behind the wall. Van.

I swing the door open and shoot between the eyes of the closest man. Valerie gets the one in the far corner. I aim my gun at the spindly dirty blond at the centre of the poker table in the middle. The men he was just laughing with—my men—aim their weapons at him as well. He startles, and then finally meets my eyes. His face pales, and his jaw goes limp.

"Wha' tha fhuck?" he croaks, drunken words slurring.

"You should be careful where you let people take you, Nico," Valerie says. "Although, what am I saying? You go wherever the booze is."

His eyes travel to her and go even wider.

"Val'rie? Wha'... wha' you...?"

Just beside him, eyes shielded from the carnage by one of my men, is the little girl—no more than twelve—dressed in a lacey bodysuit. She's holding herself, cowering like she wants to hide in the confines of her bruised and scabbed arms.

Something feral starts roiling inside me and I step towards Nico. His eyes cross at my gun as the distance between him and it closes.

"Valerie," I don't recognize the utter madness in my own voice.

"I'm on it," she says, understanding.

She goes around the table. I watch Nico's eyes follow her and press the suppressor against his forehead, making them instantly dart back to me.

"Don't fucking move," I tell him, every fibre of my being focused on lot letting myself pull the trigger.

"Hey, there," Valerie smiles at the girl as she crouches beside her.

The girl flinches and turns away from her.

"My name is Valerie," she doesn't give up. "What's yours?"

The girl lifts her eyes to Nico. He keeps his trained on me. Beads of sweat begin running down his temples.

"It's alright," Valerie says gently, "you don't have to tell me."

The girl slowly looks at her as her chin quivers.

"Have you seen the big ice cream chest upstairs?" she asks.

A slow nod comes from the little one.

"I think I want to go have some. What do you say?" She proffers her hand.

The girl looks at Nico again, terrified.

"It's okay," Valerie says, "Right, Nico?"

I shove my gun into his forehead and raise my eyebrows expectantly.

"R-right," he stammers, swallowing air.

"There, see?" Valerie smiles at the girl and gets up, hand still outstretched. "Now, come on. You can pick whatever flavour you want."

The girl slowly, as though afraid to make a wrong move, stands and takes Valerie's hand. The woman seamlessly positions herself to block the girl's view of the corpses as they walk to the door. Then they're gone, the door shutting behind them.

"What should we do with him, Boss?" One of my men asks as he jabs his gun into Nico's temple.

Nico's initial shock is wearing off and I can see anger building on his face. What, pissed that we took his latest conquest? Oh, how I wish I had all the time in the world with this piece of shit. But I don't, so I content myself with his reaction to my next words.

"Take him to Kaen's loft. We have questions for him."

I round the table as I watch the anger on his face instantly get replaced with a pale wash of terror. His eyes bulge, his mouth drops open, and I swear I see a few strands of his hair go grey before my very eyes.

"No," he says shakily, words no longer slurred, "No no no please, not him! Anyone but him, man! I can—"

I hit the back of his head with the hilt of my Glock. He falls forward onto the table's green felt surface.

My men don't need to be told twice. They tie his wrists and ankles and throw a sack over his head. I go upstairs ahead of them to where Anton is showing Valerie and the little girl a cartoon of a brown bear and a small pig on his laptop.

"There's no way that's Winnie the Pooh!" Valerie says. The girl smiles as she eats her popsicle.

"Is not Winnie the Pooh, is Vinni Pukh, soviet adaptation. And is right adaptation, too! What kind of bear is yellow?"

"He's a teddy bear! It doesn't matter what colour he is. And why does Eyeore look like he survived a nuclear winter?"

"What you mean? Ee-ah is donkey! What is donkey supposed to look like? Supermodel?"

The girl actually giggles at that, and I find myself smiling.

"Russians," Valerie rolls her eyes. When she sees me, I nod at her, and she gently pats the girl's arm.

"Hey, do you like flowers?"

The girl bobs her head.

"Wanna see a giant flower garden?"

An excited smile and a nod is her response.

"Alright, let's go then."

But the girl looks at Anton with sadness in her eyes. The Russian giant, for his part, gives her the warmest grin and ruffles her hair.

"Is okay, little one. I can visit, yes? I bring you sweets from my home country and we watch more!" he says.

The girl smiles again. Anton tends to have that effect on children; it's incredibly tragic that he's never had any.

"Would you take her to my car?" I ask him. "Valerie and I need to see to things here."

Understanding my meaning, he nods and takes the girl's hand. Valerie and I look at them as they leave.

"Wanna know how old she is?" Valerie asks me in a quiet, shaky voice. A stark contrast to her loving demeanour with the girl.

"Twelve?"

"Nine."

I slowly turn to her, feeling my face twist in disgust.

"Guess Nico's not like other pedophiles. He likes them to look older," she adds. Her head snaps to the utility door as it opens and Nico is dragged out by my men. Her nose wrinkles and her lips curl when she sees his limp form. As her eyes follow him, her hands begin to shake.

Instinctively, I put a hand on hers to still it. When she slowly turns to me, her amber eyes, like molten gold, stare at me in surprise. My heart increases its pace as I look into them, my next words momentarily forgotten. Before I get completely lost in them, I quickly avert my gaze, knowing that there lies trouble.

"Don't worry," I say as I release her hand and grab my phone, "Kaen will deal with him."

Nothing comes from her as I type out a text to my brother.

"Let me text him too," she says a few moments later, "I can tell him what to ask."

After she's done, we walk to my car, say goodbye to Anton, and take the little girl home.

 ━━▲━━ ━━▲━━ ━━▲━━  

A/N

The Spanish in this chapter translates to One elephant, two elephants, three elephants go. According to the internet, it's a popular nursery rhyme/counting song. 

The Russian Winnie the Pooh is a real cartoon. I grew up with that version and used to watch it long before I knew the Disney one existed. If you're wondering what those characters look like, feel free to look it up. You're welcome.