It had been one hell of a week, and the weekend was mostly spent recovering and preparing for the next. My shop had become a significant success, necessitating a larger flower supply. Now that it was Monday, Lepard had returned home and gone to bed, and Charles, or Demon, had left for work.
I drove to my shop through a snowy atmosphere; it had already begun snowing, though not heavily yet, it was just starting. I was stressed because I had placed bids in an auction for one of Holland's largest flower deliveries. They had contacted me via email, offering me much higher prices than they offered others, which infuriated me as I felt they were trying to rip me off. However, I wasn't easily fooled, so I placed a bid in the auction instead of accepting their offers.
The girls had been quite worn out as well, not to mention Wulfe, who had been cursing daily in various languages due to different problems at his workplace. Wanting to be helpful, he assisted with some of the issues, and his expertise was obvious, but the problems kept arising. He had been promised a raise early on, but the workload was still immense, requiring him to wear a suit and tie, appear less like a teenager, and maintain intense focus.
Demon, or Charles, had been with me almost constantly. Charles's fame continued to grow, keeping him busy making bouquets at the customers' requests. I was grateful for this because it brought in money and prevented him from focusing too much on my shop's layout and my displays of potted plants, bags of soil, or fertilizers.
This meant I wasn't hiding the cheapest items on the floor, but displaying them at normal height, nor was I trying to push the expensive items first. I wasn't doing this according to conventional business rules.
This week, I was unsure how long it would take Lepard to recover. Since there was always work to be done around the house, such as checking on the snakes, clutches, and any new arrivals, I focused on those tasks.
New arrivals were placed in incubators, and I also checked when the gene tests for the sheds would be ready. I had programmed the machines to print the results with my fingerprint, so I could see them first or arrange for them to be printed.
Meanwhile, Charles had been busy at home, setting up our online shops for snakes. He hadn't yet created an online shop for my stones because I had just obtained a permit to sell them in my shop. I was also planning to learn wire wrapping so I could create jewelry from the stones.
Artisan-made wrappings were popular, as not everyone wanted rings and pendants from a jewelry shop. Although I had never done it before, it was something I needed to learn, but I hadn't yet had the time or energy. For now, I had a selection of stones with me, as my permit started today, and my insurance was also active.
Since I was responsible for most of the expenses, Charles, being very protective, made sure I wasn't paying too much. Consequently, I was excluded from paying for food, gasoline, or electricity for the cars, as others could easily contribute.
I was planning to visit the clutch this weekend, as I hadn't had the energy to go last week. However, it was only Monday, and while I could make plans, what I could or would actually do at the end of the week was another matter entirely.
With Thanksgiving approaching, we used the time to make menu plans and shopping lists, which meant I would have to go shopping someday. Some of the girls in the fast-food business had later shifts, Wulfe was working late, the truckers were busy, and Lepard, being the only one around, wasn't too keen on shopping. Therefore, it was up to me to go shopping.
We had carpooled, as Emmylee, May, and I worked quite close together. Lepard would fetch us and first drop off Rose and Vivian, who had earlier shifts, and then we would all go shopping. I would then have to explain what to buy and what not to buy.
Waking around noon, Lepard still felt worn out. Truck driving was undeniably fun, but it was hard work. Who would have thought sitting all day could be so physically demanding? Big trucks like the one he drove weren't easy to maneuver; he had to be extra vigilant, skillfully handling the massive vehicle, especially in turns, and the weather didn't make it any easier.
Moreover, these rigs weren't exactly new models but rather old, robust ones, lacking high-tech features. Now he understood what the old drivers had meant at the start of his week: after a few months, a driver develops "truck driver's ass, back, and thighs," and those were precisely the parts of his body that ached the most.
He trudged to the kitchen in search of food and was surprised to find Number Five standing there, taking everything in. The kitchen was huge, featuring a light wood rectangular table in the center, its resin top embedding flowers for a unique touch. The countertops were yooperlite, a grey and black stone that shone under UV light, while smaller countertops were sodalite; their dark blue background, streaked with faint white stripes, gave them a mysterious yet luxurious air.
At the back of the long kitchen were three walk-in freezers, and on the left, a huge walk-in fridge stood next to two large standing fridges for drinks and everyday items. Cork flooring and rag rugs created a cozy feeling, and the lighting was gentle, with spotlights directed upwards.
However, given the daytime and the huge windows on the right side of the wall, which offered a view of the wintery courtyard, there was no need for lights. Cozy, warm, dark blue curtains with a light golden shimmer hung in the windows, the fabric resembling satin but appearing too thin to be it.
"What the hell is going on, and where is everyone? Why are you looking like this?" Number Five's gruff voice startled Lepard.
Lepard sighed and communicated to Mimi via the hive, "Mimi, my love, Number Five has risen. He is in the kitchen, asking questions. What can I tell him?"
As soon as Lepard asked me those questions, I rolled my eyes inwardly. I was in the middle of talking to clients who wanted arrangements for an upcoming christening, and I had reached the point where Reddington's words were in my mind.
I guess I somehow released something onto Lepard and answered, "Now you know what you can tell him, so good luck. It is not easy to end up being interrogated by Salvatores."
Lepard grunted, and I refocused.
"Now, what kind of color theme were you planning on?" I asked the parents, who had their little one with them.
The mother said, "Well, she is a girl, so I was thinking of pink, or fuchsia, maybe red. Not necessarily traditional baby pink, but something with a little edge."
I nodded. Then, the father added, "And we would like green and black in there too. Not blue, but as black as you can get, and bright green flowers, not just leaves."
"Fine, come on and see," I said, and started to show them what I had.
I had these nice multi-blossomed button roses with dual shades of pink, white, and red, kind of striped. Then, I had batman flowers, which were mostly black and called Tacca chantrieri; they brought drama to any bouquet. I also had black dahlias, lilies, and tulips. So, there was a selection for green, and there were roses and other kinds of flowers, too.
I also showed them a list of possible flowers I might be able to get, but with no guarantees. I could try, but they would be pricier per stem as I would have to order them specially. I was focusing on my business, and not thinking at all about what was happening in the house, or whether Number Five would ask the right questions.
Feeling something opening in his mind, and knowing what he could and could not answer, Lepard told Number Five, "Well, most of the pack are working."
Number Five asked, "Since when? Do you mean in fleas, or in missions?"
Lepard answered calmly, "Not in fleas since last week, and no missions."
Number Five frowned, sensing that something was off and this was not normal, but Lepard evaded his questions, so it was time to up the ante.
"Okay, where does Mimi work? And how are you not working?"
Lepard frowned, unable to reveal much. "Mimi is at her job, and I have free time, as my schedule is not normal."
Number Five muttered to himself, "Damn bastard, you are one stubborn one. Let's make this really simple: I ask one big question, and I expect a big answer. What the fuck is this all about? Tell me everything!"
Lepard furrowed his brow, finally relenting. "Let's go to the living room," he said. "It will be a little easier to explain there."
Five, still huffing, asked, "Do you have anything to eat or drink here? This is a huge kitchen."
Lepard walked to the fridge, retrieved a bottle of Coke and a plate piled high with cold cuts and boiled eggs, and handed them to Number Five before heading towards the living room. As Number Five entered, the immense size of the room surprised him again.
This time, the sofas were yellow and soft, adorned with warm, light blue throws. Plump pillows were haphazardly scattered about, and three huge beanbag chairs sat on the floor. A huge, dark-shaded fireplace dominated one wall, with a good pile of handsome wood stacked neatly beside it. These logs were quite large.
On the floor, thick, warm rugs covered most of the dark hazelnut flooring, making it pleasant to walk on. Number Five wasn't sure how expensive these rugs were, so there was that consideration, but he knew they weren't silk. The curtains were a dark orange, almost shaded with yellow, resembling flames in the windows, and were made of a special-looking fabric that almost compelled Number Five to touch them.
His keen eye took in so many details of the room; he noticed Mimi's influence, like a kind of spirit, but there were influences of others as well. He finally spotted one special-looking chair – oh, Mimi's – and went to sit there, prompting Lepard to roll his eyes.
Lepard then began, "So, this is simple. Do you recall that little thing we had at the end of the Australia trip, of living as a family? Well, this is it."
Number Five's brow rose. "Say what?"
And so, Lepard explained the whole thing to him in more detail. As he learned what this was all about, he, too, felt the blockage in his mind that prevented anything from leaking to others or Mariella. He was himself, and it felt so free.
He then added, "Now, you do have a job; Mimi chose it for you. Here is your dossier, your work history, and whatnot. And by the way, Mimi is expecting, as is Mariella, but Mariella doesn't know it yet. Mimi does, and she has already gotten a lot of supplies, so read those. I will be around."
Lepard rose and walked away, leaving Number Five bewildered. Still seated in the chair, he grabbed his dossier, trying to make sense of everything. This was new and exciting, and he had so many questions, but he also saw opportunities, juicy ones that promised Baby the surprise of her life.
Although Charles was working and Lepard had declared Mimi the pack leader, Number Five's ego rebelled. This alone fueled his desire to reassert himself more firmly in Baby's life. Mariella and her "stupid pussy" faded from his mind as the ultimate challenge, a temptation the Salvatores could never resist, called to him like a siren song. It was time to ensure the little Queen of Rain's reign was shortened drastically.
His job as a bakery assistant offered a starting salary of $19.45 per hour, working 7.5 hours a day, five days a week. Sometimes those five days fell on weekends, which meant even more money. Lepard had explained the basics of what was reserved and what they had to pay.
Number Five wasn't an idiot; he quickly grasped the importance of money and wasn't about to bust his balls day in and day out only for Mariella to squander his earnings. No, he would contribute to the pack as well.
So many plans formed in his mind. Lepard had mentioned carpooling to pick up Mimi and a few other girls, and he would be in the car as well. Baby would meet her match right off the bat. He could hardly wait to see Mimi's little shop and offer his opinion. It would be so perfect, and he could feel his cock twitch at the thought of nights, or even evenings, with Baby all alone, and him there, ready to give her dessert.
Surely bakery work wasn't that hard, and he was a virile man. Having Mimi in bed all to himself was a far cry from sharing one female with nine other guys. Yes, Baby would be all his, all night long, for the nine months of her pregnancy.
Number Five's cruel mouth curved into a nasty smirk as he pictured Mariella, swollen with a huge pregnant belly, struggling to attract a lover, perhaps only one at a time. He imagined the positions might still be a little awkward.
"Oh yeah, nice times ahead, really nice times," he thought.
He knew he had been a PussySlave, but as Lepard had explained, Mariella had abused her white power; she was never supposed to destroy love. Her latest stunt, during recovery, that burst of power, was so wrong that God himself was angry with her. If she were to whine at him about these 13 years, he might lose his temper and tell her just how big a failure she was.
This thought, too, made Number Five smile. He considered himself a psychopath, meaning cruel, not overly emotional, and not keen to show his feelings. It was ironic, considering he had spent decades inside the Pope's ring, but then again, the Catholic Church wasn't about love, but about sin, penance, sinners, saints, and rules.
It wasn't the best place to be, having to listen to confessions and witness the death of one Pope and the coronation of the next. Each time, he had been awakened, learning something nasty about the current Pope or someone else, as there were predators even there.
He was powerless then, and what had utterly broken him was the realization of what had happened to the baby. Had she survived, he could still feel his desperation and his guilt. He remembered how he had found her, saw the green tint in her skin as a demon tried to possess her, and how his heart felt like lead before everything went blank.
There had been a small hope, but because he had no idea what had actually happened, he had been shattered, forcing him to hide his feelings, becoming cold and uncaring. He simply didn't trust himself to love again, not until much later when Baby had gradually drawn him out.
But then Mariella had done her damage, followed by the seven-year breakup, and he had never fully healed. He hoped that this time would be different, and he would try as much as he could.
He devised a plan of action and prepared to execute it, and he was in no hurry for any other Salvatores to find out; let them have their stupid sex holiday. He was less lustful, and had always been quite rough in bed, preferring to dominate, not merely have sex. But now, it was his time.
He was ready to be there for Baby, not just as one more Salvatore, but as the Salvatore who would have her back, even if she didn't want it. Since he hadn't been one of Mimi's Five, he hadn't betrayed her, not like those other weak ones. Yes, life was just about to take a very interesting turn.