"It's true. We'll want both the 5th for Carla, the 8th for Achilleas and Caelan, and 9th for me and Michelangelo. £600.000 per month!"
I raised an eyebrow at their significant raise on the counteroffer. "Who are those you mentioned exactly?"
"Achilleas is Carla's brother," so that's his name? Very Italian. "Caelan is our friend who owns some night clubs around the UK, I'm the CEO of an automobilist conglomerate owning Lamborghini, Rolls Royce, and Harley-Davidson, and Michelangelo is a queer Fantasy-Romance R-rated writer. We've been best friends since childhood."
"You own Lamborghini, Rolls Royce, and Harley-Davidson?" I arched an eyebrow, concealing my surprise.
"Lea owns Mercedes-Benz!" Cassie leaned closer, trying to join.
I glared at her, "I am not the subject of this conversation, Cassandra. Now," I turned to him again, "what does Achilleas do for a living?"
"He works on computer science," he brushed aside.
I shared a swift look with the girls for a second, transmitting what they must be thinking as well, that this explained a lot. "How old are you?"
"36 years old. The four of us are the same age. Achilleas' the 2nd oldest, he'll turn 37 in 3rd of December," so he's a Sagittarius. "I will turn 37 in November 8th, Michelangelo is from February 27th, and Caelan is the youngest being from April 1st. But we have places in London too!"
"Why Edinburgh then?" I narrowed my eyes.
"We are working on a thing together here," he rolled his shoulders. "Achilleas also wanted to be close to his little sister. He's quite the overly protective brother," he scoffed haunted, and I couldn't help wondering if he's ever hitted on Carla and her brother kicked him for it.
That brings me a wicked kind of joy. "I'm the same with my lil brother, but he's dating someone good, that's what matters."
"My lil sister," Sera clapped her hands. "Ebony Emmeline."
Ignoring her, I stood up and walked towards the bar, making a Moonshine Martini cocktail for myself and sipping from it, "How long will it take for you to move out of the 8th, Cassie?" I asked her, eyes on my drink.
"I'll me fully out by mid-day tomorrow!" She beamed hopeful.
"Hmmmm," I played with my drink. "If you have £1.800.000 in hand, by tomorrow, 7:15 am, I'll let you rent the vacant 5th, 8th, and 9th Doune Terraces. But if you don't move in by Monday morning," it's the 12th of October today, Thursday, "I will give your money back, and the deal won't be sealed!" Then I brought my eyes up to theirs. "Deal?"
"Deal!" They stood up instantly.
"We can get the money today, if you want," Desmond spoke. "You can pass us your account and we'll send it to you."
And let them aware of my bank documentation? Don't take me for a fool. "No. I want the money in physical notes. By 7:15 am tomorrow. Not before, not after, at that exact hour," I'll be leaving for London at 7:30 am. "What? Is it hard?"
"Absolutely not, Countess," Desmond exclaimed and I was unable not to tense up, my eyes going to his, in a sharp and deadly glare. "Carla told me you are a Countess."
Oh? True, she saw my ID. "My parents bought the title, I inherited. I'm not a Noble or tied to the Royal family of Great Britain," I told them before they could make any stupid question.
"Sera said the mansion in the other side of the street is yours," Carla pointed through the window and I tightened my grip on my glass.
"Oh? That?" I chuckled. "True. It's mine. My parents died there." They both tensed up at my words, frozen, whatever they intended on saying halted in its way. "Murdered, though the police did a poor job on it and took it as a stupid accident and closed the case 24 years ago."
"Your parents?" Carla asked haunted, stunned. "Didn't you say you had left your parents in France?"
"Mami and papi, they raised me. Technically my guardians, they adopted me when my parents died, my birth parents' best friends," I rolled my shoulders, turning my drink down my throat, loving how it burns. "They are also my parents, not by blood, but parents regardless. Scottish like me." Sigh, "Death comes for us all, the only difference is who brings it to you. Nature, health, Jesus, another God, your own decisions, yourself, or a thief. Thieves of lives who are professional in cutting them forcefully short, when you were not supposed to die." My eyes went to them again and I'm pretty sure my grin looks wicked. "It'll come for all us, let's us just pray that when out time runs out, it's not by a thieve of lives, yeah?"
Sera threw a pillow at, but I quickly caught it, "Stop being morbid, Lea. Ugh. Gothic and morbid. Why are you like when you're so cute?"
"What did you just called me?" I glared at her, switching the pillow in my hand by a cocktail gold spoon and she gulped.
"Gothic and morbid?"
I threw the spoon at her, purposely hitting the smooth back of it on her forehead, "Call me cute again, and I'll throw a knife instead."
"Can you believe she's painting her haunted castle black?" Sera brushed my warning aside, massaging her forehead. "I don't get the appeal. Her tanned skin would match colorful colors so much better, but she stuck in her gothic phase since we were kids."
"Sorry if I don't appreciate colors that are vomited by unicorns!"
She gasped offended, "Pink is everything."
"Green is everything," Cassie countered.
"Nope, black is everything," I scoffed. "Throw the spoon, Sera."
Growling, she threw it in the direction of my head, but I caught it mid-air with no effort. "Your throwing skills are as poor as always," I mocked, then began to wash the spoon.
"You should go after hiring some good staff for your haunted place instead of stay here bickering with me," Sera pouted. "Aunt Adèle will have an aneurysm if you actually move there all by yourself."
"Oh? Not by myself, I stole Véronique," I purred mischievously. "She'll be my chef and will live with me," their jaws dropped. "I thought she wouldn't bend, but seems like she always wanted to come to Scotland."
"Aunt Adèle will lose her shite," Cassie burst laughing.
"Didn't you had a patient? Why are you still here?" I blinked.
"Jesus, Lea, why are you rude?" Sera gasped. "I'm sorry for this, guys. She's like this with everyone but her parents and brother. We got used to it already, but she can be infuriatingly obnoxious. She doesn't mean any harm, it's just that she's a lil bit antisocial. She's like Wednesday Adams."
"Then you're her Enid?" Carla smiled flirty at her.
My friend blushed hard, "Yeah. I kinda am," snapping out of it, she turned to me again. "No wonder you don't have a boyfriend, who is gonna put up with your nastiness?"
"Someone as nasty as me?" I countered, unfazed.
"A men is yet to be born as nasty as you," Sera clicked her tongue.
"You would be surprised," I chuckled haunted.
"It's okay, Sera. I do have a patient, we've already took too long here. No need to fight your best friend because of us," she's nice.
"She's acting like that because she has a crush on you, doctor Carla, not because of anything else," I gave her up and Carla turned cherry red.
"Seleneee," Sera cried embarrassed.
"You're welcome," I winked. "I have a business travel tomorrow morning, if you're not here at the agreed hour, I'll leave and we ain't gonna make a deal after I'm back," I warned the pair. "Cassie, lock the door when you leave, you have a spare key, I don't trust Sera with it. And if you drink from my bar again, without me around, I'll cut your salary by half," then I grabbed the Polish vodka bottle in the bar, turned on around and headed to the stairs. "Stop flirting on my living room, just go on a bloody date!"
Then I closed the door behind as I got on the hallway of the stairs, and went up, leaving them, intending on clearing up my frustrations with some alcohol and the last eps of Destined With You, on Netflix.