Dinner with the Enemy

The warehouse looked different at midnight.

Darker. Taller. More menacing. The broken windows stared at me like empty eye sockets. The rusted door hung open, waiting.

I parked Rex's car two blocks away. Walked the rest. Alone. Just like Victor asked.

My gun was in my waistband. My knife was in my boot. Rex was somewhere in the shadows behind me. I could not see him. That was the point.

The warehouse door creaked when I pushed it open.

Inside, light. Flickering. Yellow. A single bulb hanging from the ceiling. Under it, a table. Two chairs. A bottle of wine. Two glasses.

And Victor.

He sat at the table. Smiling. His silver hair was combed back. His suit was expensive. He looked like a king waiting for his subject.

"Mira," he said. "You came."

"You have my mother."

"I have many things. Sit."

I did not sit.

"Where is she?"

"Safe. For now." He gestured to the empty chair. "Sit, Mira. We have much to discuss."

"I am not here to discuss. I am here to take my mother home."

"And you will. After dinner."

"Dinner?"

Victor poured wine into both glasses. Red. Dark. Like blood.

"I have waited ten years to have a meal with my daughter. The least you can do is sit."

I sat.

Not because he asked. Because I wanted to see his face. Wanted to understand what kind of monster sat across from me.

Victor pushed a glass toward me.

"Drink."

"No."

"It is not poisoned."

"I do not trust you."

"Smart girl. Your mother taught you well."

"Do not talk about her."

Victor leaned back. Studied me. His eyes were cold. Calculating.

"You look like her, you know. The same green eyes. The same sharp chin. The same stubborn set of your jaw."

"I am nothing like her."

"You are exactly like her. That is why I married her. That is why I loved her. That is why I hated her."

"You never loved anyone."

"I loved you."

I laughed. It was an ugly sound.

"You loved power. You loved control. You loved winning. You never loved me."

"I provided for you. I protected you. I gave you everything."

"You gave me nothing. You took everything. My mother. My childhood. My trust."

Victor set down his glass. His smile faded.

"You think you know the truth. You do not."

"Then tell me."

"Your mother was not innocent. She was not a victim. She was a manipulator. A liar. A cheat."

"She was afraid of you."

"She was afraid of losing. There is a difference."

I picked up the wine glass. Did not drink. Just held it.

"Why did you fake your death?"

Victor laughed. A real laugh. Deep. Cold.

"Because your mother was going to kill me. She had been planning it for years. Poison in my food. Accidents in my car. She wanted me dead."

"So you disappeared."

"I let her think she won. I watched from the shadows. I waited."

"For what?"

"For the right moment. To come back. To take everything."

"Everything?"

"The empire. The money. The respect. And you."

"Me?"

"You are my daughter, Mira. My heir. Everything I built, I built for you."

"I do not want anything from you."

"You do not have a choice."

I set down the glass. Leaned forward.

"I have a choice. I have always had a choice. You just never gave me one."

Victor's eyes narrowed.

"You are brave. I will give you that. Stupid. But brave."

"Where is my mother?"

"In the back. Tied to a chair. Just like your friend."

"Let her go."

"After dinner."

"Let her go now."

Victor stood up. Walked to the window. His back was to me.

"Your mother and I were happy once. Before you. Before the lies. Before the betrayal."

"That is not my fault."

"No. It is hers. She turned you against me. She made you hate me. She made you fear me."

"She did not have to. You did that yourself."

Victor turned. His face was hard.

"I am going to give you one chance, Mira. One chance to choose the right side."

"My side is the right side."

"Your side is the losing side."

"We will see."

The back door opened.

A man walked in. Young. Early thirties. Dark hair. Blue eyes. A scar on his cheek.

Drake Marchetti.

He walked to Victor. Stood beside him. His eyes never left my face.

"You must be Mira," he said.

"You must be the cousin who tried to kill his uncle."

Drake smiled. It did not reach his eyes.

"I prefer to think of myself as the cousin who tried to take what was rightfully his."

"You tried to kill Rex's father."

"He was in my way."

"So you tried to kill him."

"Yes."

"And now you are working with Victor."

"Victor and I have a common goal."

"Revenge."

"Justice."

"There is a difference."

Drake walked to the table. Picked up my wine glass. Drank it.

"Your mother is in the back," he said. "She is alive. For now."

"What do you want?"

"Two things. First, the empire. Second, Rex's head."

"You cannot have either."

"We will see."

Victor walked to me. Stopped inches from my face.

"Tell me where the files are, Mira. The ones your mother hid. The evidence. The insurance."

"I do not know."

"You are lying."

"I am not."

Victor grabbed my chin. Forced me to look at him.

"Tell me."

"No."

He slapped me.

My head snapped to the side. My cheek burned. I did not cry out.

"I am not afraid of you," I said.

"You should be."

He slapped me again. Harder.

I tasted blood.

"Where are the files?"

"Go to hell."

The back door opened again.

My mother walked out. Her wrists were red. Her face was pale. But she was walking. She was alive.

"Mother."

"Mira."

Victor turned. Smiled.

"Ah. The guest of honor."

My mother walked to me. Touched my face. Looked at Victor.

"You hit her."

"She would not answer my question."

"So you hit her. Like you used to hit me."

Victor's smile faded.

"I never hit you."

"You hit me all the time. You just do not remember. Or you do not want to."

"You are lying."

"I am not."

Victor's face twisted. Rage. Old. Deep.

"You ruined everything," he said. "You and your lies. Your betrayals. Your manipulations."

"I learned from the best."

Victor lunged.

Drake caught him. Held him back.

"Not yet," Drake said. "We need her alive. For now."

Victor pulled away. Straightened his jacket.

"The files," he said. "Where are they?"

My mother looked at me. Then at Victor.

"In the grave," she said.

"What?"

"Your grave. The one you faked. I buried them with you."

Victor's face went white.

"You are lying."

"Go dig them up. You will find a box. Waterproof. Fireproof. Full of everything I have collected over the past ten years."

Victor turned to Drake. "Go. Now. Check."

Drake hesitated.

"Now."

Drake walked out.

Victor turned back to us.

"If you are lying, I will kill you both. Slowly."

"I am not lying."

"We will see."

The warehouse was silent.

Victor paced. Back and forth. Back and forth. My mother stood beside me. Her hand was in mine.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For everything. For leaving you. For lying to you. For not being there."

"You are here now."

"Yes."

"That is all that matters."

Victor stopped pacing. Looked at us.

"Touching," he said. "Really. I might cry."

"Go to hell," my mother said.

"I have been there. It is empty. They are all here."

His phone rang.

He answered. Listened. His face went dark.

"They are gone," he said.

"What?"

"The files. The box. It is empty."

My mother smiled.

"I know. I moved them. Last week."

"Where?"

"I am not going to tell you."

Victor threw his phone against the wall. It shattered.

"You will tell me. Or I will kill her."

He pointed at me.

My mother stepped in front of me.

"Then kill me."

"Mother, no."

"You want someone to hurt, Victor. Hurt me. Leave her alone."

Victor laughed. It was an ugly sound.

"You think I will not?"

"I think you are a coward. You always were. You hurt people who cannot fight back. Women. Children. The weak. But you never fight someone your own size."

Victor grabbed her. Pulled her close.

"I am going to enjoy watching you die."

"Victor..."

"Shut up."

He pulled out a gun. Pressed it against her temple.

My heart stopped.

"Let her go."

"Tell me where the files are."

"I do not know."

"Then she dies."

"Victor, please..."

He cocked the gun.

A gunshot.

Victor screamed.

The gun fell from his hand. Blood dripped from his fingers. He had been shot. In the hand.

Rex stepped out of the shadows.

"Drop the weapon," he said.

Victor stared at him. His face was white.

"You."

"Me."

"You are supposed to be dead."

"Sorry to disappoint."

Rex walked to me. Kept his gun on Victor.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Your mother?"

"Alive."

Rex nodded. Turned to Victor.

"It is over."

"It is never over."

Victor lunged for the gun on the floor.

Rex fired again.

Victor fell.

Blood spread across his chest.

He did not move.

My mother ran to him. Checked his pulse.

"He is alive."

"For now," Rex said. "Call an ambulance."

I stood in the middle of the warehouse.

Victor was bleeding. My mother was crying. Rex was standing over him with a gun.

And somewhere in the shadows, Drake was watching.

My phone buzzed.

This is not over. See you soon. - D.

I looked up.

The warehouse was empty.

Drake was gone.