Part 1.4

Part 1.4

Before we left the club, we were stopped by Kennedy.

She walked up to Marky, swinging her hips in a way that would bewitch most men.

“You forgot something.”

For the first and last time, Marco and I had the same expression.

What the hell was this bitch talking about?

She casually pointed at Miyamoto, who was slowly getting up.

“You forgot to take your trash.”

Marco pointed at the guy on the floor.

“Kill him.”

I shook my head.

“No, sir. In my contract, it states I will only-”

He shoved me.

“How dare you talk back to me! I said kill him!”

“Sir, if you ask me to do that again, I will resign, and there is a very dangerous ninja bitch, who will come after you.”

I wanted to laugh as the realisation hit him.

“Fine.”

He turned back to Kennedy.

“You can keep him or throw him out, I don’t care!”

His red face betrayed the fact that he did care.

Before we could go, she stopped us again.

“Why don’t you resign and work for me?”

I wanted to shove her out of the way, but Milton would be more diplomatic.

“I have to refuse, miss. My contract ends in six months. If you are still interested, call me.”

Like a gentleman, I tried to kiss her hand.

She pulled it from my grasp before my lips touched her fingers.

She had a scowl as she did so.

These assholes are all the same, and I would gladly have turned this club into ground beef if I were paid.

As we left the club, we were reunited with our clothes and gear.

I was glad to leave, and I was also slightly relieved to see Smythe.

Being around so many detestable people was hard work.

Now it was time to sit among my detestable people.

After Smythe closed the door of the limo, Marky said something in a mature way.

“What the hell was that?”

I answered honestly.

“What do you mean, sir?”

He shifted until he was against me and held his finger in my face.

“If you ever flirt with my fiancée again, I’ll cut your balls off!”

This was an interesting tidbit.

The hit he put out on you wasn’t just because you were inconvenient.

It happened to open up the avenue to the Kennedys.

Marko’s dad was in charge of the TAF, and Kennedy’s dad was the biggest crime lord in the city.

They wanted to consolidate their power over order and chaos.

I sighed.

The second I realised what I did, I slipped back into Milton’s shoes.

“I am sorry, sir. It will never happen again.”

And it never did.

After my sincere apology, the asshole seemed satisfied.

He looked like he was pondering a big question before he looked at me.

“How did you beat him? It all happened so fast.“

I shrugged.

“I got ready to fight, and the guy accidentally hit my elbow.”

This caused Marko to roar with laughter.

“It seems like that asshole was nothing without his sword.”

I didn’t laugh, but I did nod along.

The rest of the ride was in complete silence.

When we arrived at the mansion, Smythe took me aside.

“It has come to my attention that you made physical contact with Lady Kennedy. As your punishment, you have to patrol the grounds for four hours before you may rest. Unpaid, of course.”

I nodded while pretending to look upset.

This was another blessing in disguise.

I couldn’t hack into their systems remotely, but being alone with some servers for a few hours would be helpful.

That way, I can copy a bunch of data and sort through it later.

I did learn a few things that would help me later.

What we would be focusing on is our dear Mr Smythe.

He is British and comes from an Aristocratic family, but he does have a very egregious secret.

It isn’t something as banal as murder, adultery or fraud.

He was born out of wedlock.

Even though he was adopted into the Smythe family, he was trained as a butler and sent away as soon as possible.

That explains why he takes out his petty frustrations on the help.

The poor bastards can’t fight back, and if a family like the St Patrick’s puts a black mark on your name, you’re done for.

As I was saying, I do have some info on the old twat, but I can’t do much with it by itself.

I could, however, forge some files of him communicating with his family abroad.

Here is the gist of my plan.

He gets a message from his daddy from the Commonwealth Cities of Consolidated Britannia.

It said that the merger between the Kennedys and St. Patrick’s could cause the city to be too powerful.

That power could spread to other cities, and soon they might rally under one flag.

You and me know that would never happen.

The Britannia cities are only tied together by treaties that could be thrown out like used toilet paper if convenient.

How could a country be held together by fear of the law and thugs?

That would never happen; you have to choose to work together for a community to truly prosper.

Sorry for the tangent, I just thought my idea to frame the butler was funny enough to be plausible.

Do you agree?

As I was saying, I spent the four hours meticulously crafting a program that would make it look like Smythe deleted messages from his communications array.

My plan was to trigger this at the right opportunity.

I still needed to find enemies that could be tied to Smythe.

People I could pin this conspiracy on.

I had Marky to thank for this.

If he didn’t say that the Kennedy bitch was his fiancée, I would have had to find a less refined way of killing the butler.

When the butler relieved me, he had a look of pure disdain when he spoke to me.

“I hope that this punishment was enough to enlighten you to your place?”

With a pure smile that hid a gallon of venom, I spoke.

“It was, sir.”