xxi. TROUBLE IN TOULOUSE

Last night was a blur.

I was somewhat hungover after last night. Okay, somewhat is an understatement. I could barely think straight after downing the entire bottle of cognac. Four walls of my room seemed to fold in on each other.

"Alright Octavia," Ace says while pounding on my door. "We have to go."

"You're going to have to pull my limp, dead body out of my bed." Groggy, I pull my blankets over my head.

Suddenly, my door slams open. Ace had fucking kicked down my door.

"Are you kidding me?" I yell.

My eyes glance up to see an annoyed man wearing a tailored navy suit. Ace looked pristine, despite the fact that he practically drowned in alcohol last night. The suit had outlined his frame perfectly. Two golden eyes narrow at me.

"Get your ass out of bed," he demands.

"Fine dad," I deadpan.

After hastily getting dressed, we get into a black SUV rover to head over to the Ambassador's house. Orange trees passed by the landscape outside as Ace drove. We were going deep into the wealthy suburbs of Toulouse where Ambassador Grant Deschamps resided.

"You really like this city," Ace muses.

"All I want to do is explore."

"Well why don't we take a walk after the mission, Cupcake?"

My lips can't help but tug into a smile. Ever since whatever happened last night, I tried to push away all romantic thoughts towards him. The mission was critical, and I didn't want anything to distract me.

But something had changed. Now, everytime Ace called me Cupcake, a warm feeling overcame me.

"Did you really have to kick down my door?" I sigh.

"We both know you weren't going to get up," Ace states. "Besides, seeing me in a suit is the best way to start your day."

I bury my now tomato-red face into my hands. When my eyes didn't even dare to gaze in his direction, I knew there would already be a smug expression plastered over his face.

"BS," I finally justify. "You look like a cross between a hyena with food poisoning and a rhino with dysentery."

"If I have dysentery, it's because of all the shit you spew."

"Should you contact the World Health Organization diagnose the mess that is your face or shall I?"

Ace suddenly stops the car. He turns to me with his golden gaze glaring. "One more word out of you, and I'm deserting you in this goddamn forest."

The rest of the car ride is silent after that.

We finally arrived at the beautiful mansion stowed away in the middle of the northern forests. Grecian, ivory pillars lined the outside of the three story house. A cedar pavilion was built off to the side, demonstrating exuberant wealth. The entirety of the structure was protected by an ironed fence.

Ace presses the buzzer on the gate. After a few moments, the gates fly open.

The interior was more beautiful than the exterior; expensive artwork decorated the walls, and the high ceilings paired with the marble clad flooring.

All the beauty made me sick.

There was no way Grant Deschamps could have bought any of this on an Ambassador's salary.

"Right this way, please," a maid said to us. She leads us to what I could only presume was an office.

A tall, older man opens the door. He has peppered hair, darkened eyes, and a face with lines of experience.

"I'm Grant Deschamps, it's nice to meet you," he smiles. A hand extends to shake each of ours.

His English is tinted with only a slight accent. In all honesty, I was embarrassed he had to speak English in order to accommodate me.

"I have to say," he continues, "I didn't expect the CIA to meet with me. What's going on?"

Ace and I glance at one another.

"Let's take a seat, Ambassador," Ace says.

Grant Deschamps sensed the change in atmosphere in the room. He sits at his desk as instructed, and we take seats in front of him.

"What do you know about corruption among your fellow diplomats?" I ask.

Grant Deschamps looks between us with hostility. "If you're implying anything, I'd first like to speak with a lawyer."
Ace folds his arms over his chest. "Let's just get straight to the point," he states. "The CIA has reason to believe that the Thorned Kings have been contributing to your personal life."

The truth rings out into absolute silence.

Suddenly, Grant Deschamps nearly crumples in his seat. An overwhelming fear consumed him. The cool, collected politician once sitting before us was immediately replaced by a terrified person. Simply alluding to the Thorned Kings had rendered a man paralyzed in fear.

"Please," he begs, nearing tears, "you don't understand. Thirteen... He's been threatening me."

I raise my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I shouldn't have taken the first bribe... that was my fault, take me to jail. But now... Now Thirteen controls my entire political agenda. If I don't do exactly as he says, he'll hurt my daughter. Please... you have to believe me."

Ace lets out a low breath of air.

My mouth goes entirely dry. It was despicable that Thirteen was threatening to hurt a child. I look to Ace, unsure of what to do.

"Ambassador," Ace consoles, "our top priority is the safety of you and your daughter. Testify against Thirteen and put him away so that he can't hurt your family anymore."

"But he controls hundreds of people. If he doesn't kill me himself, someone else will."

"The CIA will place you under 24/7 witness protection," I urge. "We'll make sure your daughter and you are both safe."

Grant runs a hand through his hair. Judging by the weariness on his face, coming clean was something he'd long considered.

"I'll do it, I'm sick of living in fear. Just give me your word that my daughter will be safe if something happens to me."

His words struck a nerve with me. After all, my father had died when I was younger, and I'd do anything to get him back. Just thinking made tears prick at my own eyes.

I was going to do everything in my power to make sure Ambassador Deschamps and his daughter were safe.

"I promise," I state.

~

The girl was no older than ten years.

Her arms wrapped tightly around her father as the man held her, safely, securely, and lovingly in his arms. The love between the two was apparent. He'd do anything to protect her.

An extraction unit came to take Grant Deschamps and his daughter to a safehouse while we worked to disassemble Thirteen's empire, piece by piece. The whole scene reminded me of my father the day he died on the police force.

That night, he hadn't come home at five like he usually did. The neighborhood and volunteers searched over a week without any avail. By the end of that week, I had lost two parents; I lost my father to an accident, and my mom to hysteria.

She kept going on about conspiracies until they locked her up in a psych ward. From then I went, bouncing around from foster home to foster home.

The universe is cruel when weaving fates.

My fingertips dig into my fists. The pain, unwittingly, revives me from my thoughts.

"Are you ok?" Ace asks me. "You seemed pretty shaken in there."

"She's a child... Thirteen is threatening a child..." I mumble in disbelief.

Ace takes me into his embrace. "I know," he sighs. "But we did the right thing, we'll catch him... we have to."

An unsettling feeling still lingers in my stomach. "Why don't we go take a walk around Toulouse?" He offers.

"Yeah," I shake. "Let's go."

"Allons-y."

AN: Vote because shit's about to go down in the next couple of chapters... Read carefully!