"Officer Bellingham!!" Sergeant Lewis shouted as he slammed a hand on the table I fell asleep on.
I jolted upright and quickly wiped the drool from my face. "Sir! I apologize, Sir!"
Sergeant Lewis was red with fury, "I've been calling you since almost ten minutes ago! There's a dispute in Tropaz Avenue that has gotten physical! Backup is needed immediately."
I got up and saluted, "I'm on it, Sir."
"Don't let me catch you snoozing on the job again, or I'll report you to your brother. Is that clear?" His voice was still raised.
"Crystal clear, Sir. It won't happen again," I said, hanging my head in shame.
"Go!" he shouted.
I nodded and ran to catch up with the officer that needed my help.
I barely had any sleep the previous night. I was still in shock.
After Danté had discussed what he wanted to, he let Nick and Damian drop me and Hannah off.
I had until tonight to decide whether I was going to work for him or not.
"Oh, and don't think about running away or snitching on us, little Princess. My boys will be watching," Danté had said.
And sure enough, I saw Damian lurking around in the shadows everywhere I went.
I knew what my plan was, but it seemed that Danté had planned to recruit me before I even knew it.
My plan was that I could make him believe that I was working for him, when I was working for the police the whole time. But now that I see how closely he kept an eye on me, I knew that I couldn't tell Sergeant Marx about my plan. So how will I stop him from making another rookie go undercover then?
I scratched my head viscously, and groaned, dropping my head in my arms.
"What's got your panties in a twist, sis?" Jace's voice came from behind me, and I heard him put a Styrofoam cup and a bag of ice in front of me.
I sat up, and found that he had brought me hot coffee, and I gratefully took the cup and let the warmth soak into my cold fingers.
Jace sat down in the chair opposite to me. His curly dark hair that was similar to William's, was cut neat and short.
He cleared his throat and scratched the freckles on his cheek, which was something William did not have. "I heard that the dispute case you handled this morning was quite... chaotic. Who knew the whole street would attack that fraudster."
I nursed the bruise near my eye from where someone from the fight had elbowed me in the face as I tried to stop them from nearly throwing an old lady into the street to get to the fraudster.
The bruise hurt, and I wasn't much help in stopping the fight, but it wasn't what was eating away at my thoughts.
Jace didn't know that, though. His mouth curved into a sympathetic smile, and he took the bag of ice and placed it on my bruise. "I know these cases suck and that you feel like you aren't making any progress, but you just need some time. Some flowers bloom slower than others."
"I feel like you stole that quote from somewhere." I squinted my eyes at him.
Jace chuckled and shrugged, "I don't know, I heard it from somewhere. But it's true."
I looked down into the steaming coffee in my cup. My reflection looked back at me with a miserable expression and tired eyes. "What if... I'm just not cut out for this job, Jace?"
Jace regarded me for a long minute. When he spoke, his expression was soft, "Vee, this thing is in our blood. We are born to be cops. You will be a great cop someday. And you will make dad proud."
For some reason his response made my heart feel empty, like it wasn't what I wanted to hear.
Jace always had a way with words and could always make me feel better. This time, however, his words strangely made me feel more heavy.
I did want to make my father proud. I did want to bring honor to our family.
But why did Jace's words hurt so much?
"You just need to be more patient, Vee. All will come in good time," Jace continued. He patted me on the head. "Be brave, and go for it."
I smiled weakly at the face on my coffee, "Yeah, maybe you're right."
After my shift I changed into jeans and a sweater and headed straight to Club Blue Flame, or The Blue Flame as some people called it.
I didn't quite think through what I was doing, but I knew that I had to do something. I couldn't sit back and let these monsters kill more police officers.
Nick was waiting for me at the door when I got there. "Venus! Nice to see you again." He hugged me, and I tried my best not to squirm out of his grasp.
I had to act like I wanted to be his friend.
"Hello, Nick. Nice to see you too," I responded.
"What happened to your pretty face?" Nick asked, pointing to the bruise near my eye. He frowned, "Who should I beat up?"
"Oh, haha, my bedroom door. I walked into it," I lied. I didn't want these men beating up any more people. Even if it was a little flattering that he actually cared about my bruise and was genuinely mad at the person that caused it. And that he said my face was pretty.
I slapped myself internally, snap out of it, Venus!
"And don't worry, I gave it enough of a beating myself," I continued, with an awkward laugh.
Nick smiled at me like I was a cute kitten, "You're too clumsy. You are definitely no cop, that's for damn sure." I shrugged at him.
Nick cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head, "You looked rather spooked last night. I don't know what Danté said to you, but I can promise you that he's a good guy." He led me into the club with a hand on the small of my back.
Sure, I thought, good guys dip strawberries in your blood as it fountains from your neck.
"He's quite... intimidating," I told him. "He seems like he could snap anyone in half without a second thought."
Nick laughed, "Sure, that's all very true. The boss is a hard man to deal with. But he doesn't hurt anyone that doesn't deserve it."
Nick's blue hair bounced as he walked. "And I'm pretty sure you don't deserve to be hurt."
Well, according to Danté's Rulebook for Taking Revenge, if you happen to be someone close to the one he thinks deserves a good pounding, you will be hurt to hurt them.
Nick led me all the way to the office where Danté had spoken to me yesterday.
A few people were working on the computers, and Danté was cleaning a gun from behind his desk, feet up. His black boots had dirt and some brownish-red substance under them. It wouldn't take a scientist to tell me that the substance was most probably blood.
I walked up to him, and even as I stood there in front of him, he didn't look up. He continued to wipe his gun. "So? Have you decided to join the cause for revenge, your Highness?"
"I will help you," I announced, standing upright and confident. Even if I didn't feel so confident in my heart. "But this isn't just your revenge. It's mine too."
"Is that so?" Danté sounded unconvinced. He knew I was up to something.
I had to make him believe a made up story. A story where I had the courage to not care what my father wanted from me. A story where it didn't matter to make him proud.
"Yes. My father has made my life hell for long enough."
Danté scoffed, "You don't know what hell truly is, Princess." He took his filthy boots off the desk and leaned forward. "Are you prepared to die for your revenge?"
I wasn't going to die. I was going to make sure that the whole gang was brought down without bloodshed. And I'm going to do it by myself, without reporting to my superiors.
"Yes, I am," I answered, balling my fists at my sides. Nick's eyes were like saucers since the conversation started, but with my words he shouted, "Woah! Wait what?!"
Danté cocked his head to side, an evil amusement playing in his eyes. "You are prepared to die because of your father?"
I leaned over Danté's desk and locked eyes with him. I hoped that it showed him sincerity and that I wasn't scared at all, when I was absolutely terrified on the inside.
"I'm not dying because of that man. I'm dying for all those that died because of him," I said. "He hurt more people than he supposedly saved."
I remember Danté's words from the previous night, where he said something about how my father hurt someone he cared about. I didn't know if it were true or not. This man was a devil - lying was second nature to him. Why would my father kill innocent people? If it so happened that he did kill someone, it must have been in self-defence. But I figured I could use Danté's words to my advantage.
And it worked. Something in Danté's eyes changed. I got through to him. He believed me.
"Whatever, Princess. You can believe that you are doing this for of some foolish righteousness and honor. But you will just do what I say, and die by my hand as another mere insignificant pawn. That is all," he said, and got up.
Nick frowned at him, "Is it necessary to kill her afterward? She seems trustworthy enough."
Damian appeared out of nowhere. "You're naive to believe that, Nicolai," I gulped at how rightfully suspicious Damian was of me. He went to stand right next to Nick, facing the opposite direction, "And besides, she needs to die. Her father is the one and only Chief Charles Benningham. Do you know what that means?"
Nick turned to Damian, "I know. I know what he did. That f*cking bastard killed--"
Danté slammed a fist into his desk. The sound was so loud it made me jump.
"Don't say her name in front of his spawn," Danté said between gritted teeth. He glared at Nick.
"Sorry, Boss," Nick apologized, looking at the ground. "I had no right."
It seemed the death of this person hurt Danté deeply. It was weird. How could such a brutal, murderous person have the capability to care for another person?
"I just... I don't understand why more innocent people need to die," Nick continued. It was such a shocking statement that it made me turn to stare at him.
They killed innocent people every day. What was he talking about, what made this time any different?
Danté laughed. "Go do the job I gave you, and stop trying to get laid by the bait."
Nick was flustered, "I-I'm not--!!"
"F*ck out of my office, Rider."
"Yes, Boss," Nick replied curtly. He glanced at me, and the embarrassment in his face made me want to laugh. But then I remembered that this was no place to laugh.
Nick left, Damian following suit. Danté sent the other people out as well, leaving us alone once again.
"You know who we are," Danté said, picking up a file from a stack on one of the nearby desks. He held it out to me, this other hand sticking his gun into his black jeans. "You probably read about us in one of your police files."
I nodded as I took the yellow file, and opened it. In it were pictures of one of my seniors, Lieutenant Bobby Parker. The photos made my insides crawl. These were definitely taken without his consent, and they contained rather intimate details - like his house, his wife, his little daughter at school.
I looked up at Danté, unable to hide my disgust. Where did he get these? Why did he have these?
"Don't look at me like that, Princess. It's only natural that I would have eyes on the man that started everything," Danté said with a shrug.
"But why are his wife and kid in here?" I asked. "And what was it that he did?"
Danté chuckled as he neared me. As he got closer, I could see a wet mark on his black shirt, and I could tell by the smell that it was definitely blood.
"His wife and kid are leverage. As for what he did," he leaned in, and winked, "that's what you have to find out."
He backed away and grabbed a black box on his desk. He thew it towards me, and I couldn't catch it, as if I didn't have years of police training behind me.
Danté burst out laughing, "You didn't lie when you said that you were a shit cop. What cop has such shit hand-eye coordination?"
My cheeks burned hot enough to cook eggs. "As I said, it's not the job for me," I mumbled as I picked up the box. It was a plain black hard drive. I studied it, confused."What's this for?"
"That, dearest Princess, is where you will put all the information you find. Photos, videos, audio recordings, and typed documents where you report your findings," Danté said.
"You mean I really need to find out what Lieutenant Parker did to start whatever is going on?" I asked, still not understanding exactly what it was that I needed to do.
"Good girl, now we're getting somewhere," Danté praised me like I was a puppy that gave him my paw when he asked me to.
"But what is it all related to? I need to know in order to get the information you want."
Danté tipped his head back, looking up at the ceiling, then back at me with a smirk that knew lots more than he was letting on, "Why don't you ask your big brother, William?"