"Scarlet," he called over his shoulder. "We are going to do the job."
Scarlet stared at West's broad shoulder. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he wasn't as happy about this as she was. There must be a reason, she thought. West doesn't risk the lives of his men—the men he sees as his family. He wouldn't push them into the ditch of hell if he didn't have a plan.
Julian looked back and forth between the two. He could sense the silent conversation they were having, even though West was giving her his back.
"You're sure this is for the best?" she thought carefully, trying to make peace with the truth. "This is for the best, right?!"
Her voice was almost desperate—a plea to help her convince herself that this was for the best, that this suicide mission would bring her closer to the truth. She was lost in her own dwelling before she was startled by West turning to look at her over his shoulder. His crystal gray eyes gazed at her so hard that, for a moment, she felt the blush surfacing on her face.
But instead of an answer, he nodded once, never breaking their eye contact. The vibe emitting from him made it hard for her not to trust him. She had always trusted West on jobs; he had never betrayed or harmed them before. There was no reason he would do that now.
And then he was walking away from her. She stood there, watching the back that always comforted her amidst the chaos of a battlefield. Some people might have found it strange—almost a quirk, actually—the way he slightly limped from the bone in his leg that had healed a little wrong.
Somehow, when she saw that little flaw, she felt warmth embrace her like a mother's hug. Maybe it was because she had been with him for so long that even his smallest movements felt like a blessing.
"From earth to Scarlet!" Julian waved a hand in front of her, snapping her out of her trance. "What the hell is this job? I've never heard of it."
"And you weren't going to hear about it."
"Eh?"
"At least not until it was time to make preparations," she said, trying to comfort him about being left out.
"And when is that exactly?" Julian raised a brow.
"Soon," she said. "Gather the crew."
"IT HAS BEEN A WHOLE DAY!"
The female's thin, high-pitched voice resonated through the office, which was furnished with brand-name luxury. Roxana was sitting on the couch in the middle of her father's office, completely ignoring the fact that they weren't alone.
The nobles standing around her father's desk tried their best to ignore the family talk, but it was hard when her voice was so loud.
"What are you talking about, Anna?" her father said—Duke Robinson Cosmos. He didn't bother glancing up at his daughter. He was used to the never-ending whining that started whenever she wanted something. He couldn't even remember what it was she wanted this time.
Roxana scoffed in disbelief and threw herself back against the couch. "I can't believe you, Father!" she said. "I already told you what I want during the banquet."
"Banquet?" her father repeated, then realized what she meant. "You mean that white-haired boy you saw for a millisecond before he left?"
"So you do remember!" she scoffed. "And yet you chose to ignore me!"
The Duke sighed in disinterest. He glanced at the two men standing like disciplined students in the corner and gestured for them to leave—finally sparing them the agony of listening to the family quarrel.
They bowed and left. Roxana crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes shooting daggers at her father, who was paying full attention to the pile of papers in his hands.
"I didn't ignore you," he finally said as he heard the door shut. "I just have more important matters to attend to than your obsession with some boy you spotted at a party, Anna."
"It's not an obsession!" she protested. "I've never seen someone like him. I just want to make his acquaintance." She faked her innocence, though she was indeed genuine about wanting to meet him.
Her father sighed in defeat, and she knew she was going to get what she wanted.
"But there's something I've been wondering about," she said. "Not bragging or anything, but I'm famous in social circles and all that—yet I've never seen him before! Someone like that… it would be hard to forget him." She narrowed her eyes, trying to picture seeing him before, but failed.
All she remembered from that banquet was the snow-pale long hair and his golden eyes, akin to the sun. They looked so much like her own—like watching her own reflection. Not that she got close enough to confirm; by the time she went down to join the crowd, he was nowhere to be seen.
She rolled her eyes at her father's disinterested hum. "There was another boy with him," she recalled. "Ash-brown hair, green eyes—if I remember correctly."
"Count Tepes's adopted son?" His eyes jolted up with a hint of interest.
"You knew him from just my description?" she asked, raising a brow. "How could you know that when you only saw him with me from the second floor?"
The Duke fell silent as he set aside some papers. "I might have seen them both when I was chatting with Count Tepes when we arrived," he said, unable to hide his anxiety about the fact that he'd kept that from his daughter.
"Father…" she said, surprisingly calm. "You've seen the boy I've been talking about since yesterday, and you never told me—but now!"