Chapter 315 Work.

Chapter 315: 315 Work.

"Ah," I said with a slow, heavy nod, the pieces finally snapping into place. "I get it now. You want me to kill your sister."

Steve looked back and forth between me and him. He blinked, his face scrunching up in genuine disgust. "Huh? Aw, man. That’s messed up."

Samuel completely ignored Steve, acting as though the henchman didn’t even exist. He just continued smiling that pasty, black-and-white smile of his.

"Well, I don’t necessarily expect you to explicitly kill her yourself, Polaris. Although, if you somehow found the opportunity to do so, I would be glad about it. But simply bringing her with you to the meeting would be incredibly useful as well.

"If she should foolishly attempt an attack on my father, and she were to be tragically killed in the resulting crossfire, then although highly unfortunate for the family... it would just be an unavoidable series of events."

"I bet it would be," I said dryly. "And if you want her out of the picture so badly, why aren’t you going out and making that magic happen personally?"

Samuel chuckled. "Oh, no. There is a problem with that. You see, our father maintains a certain... strict hierarchy for infighting within the family. He happens to have a bizarre soft spot for my dear sister. He has explicitly forbidden any of the family from killing her."

"Has he?"

"Oh, yes. If things do turn out badly with her little rebellion, that’s a personal pleasure he is reserving entirely for himself."

Fucking hell. And here I was thinking I’d seen the absolute worst of super-powered family dynamics.

I groaned into my hand and rubbed my face tiredly. "Seriously?" I muttered.

"Very," Samuel said smoothly, adjusting his tie. "And it would heavily be in your best interest for her demise to happen as well."

I glared at him from between my fingers. "And how, exactly, do you figure that?"

Samuel leaned in a bit, his voice dropping slightly to keep from being overheard.

I genuinely didn’t know why he bothered with the theatrics. Everyone else in McLaren’s was going to massive, obvious lengths to make it plainly clear they were absolutely not listening in.

"You see, my father’s lingering affection for my sister is perhaps a bit ill-advised. He genuinely thinks she has incredible potential, assuming she ever gets over this ridiculous ’heroine’ nonsense. He believes she will be a deeply valuable tool for his empire in the future."

"So?" I said, keeping my face blank.

Samuel gave me a knowing look. "So, that means that the... ’executive position’ he is currently offering you is far from a sure thing.

"He would love nothing more than for Vanessa to eventually be his right hand. He’s always going on and on about how clever and powerful she is.

"How she’ll be a true, unstoppable force of menace once she’s finally gotten over that petty ’morality’ business. He is actively saving a place at the table for her. And recruiting you is a large part of that strategy."

"How is recruiting me supposed to magically bring her back into the fold?" I asked.

Samuel rolled his grayscale eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Father firmly believes that you possess a certain... magnetism for women. That my sister is already falling under the sway of your rugged charms, and that in good time, she will see through you the tangible benefits of villainy.

"That joining him will help her ’save the world,’ or some other rot like that. He aims for you to actively seduce her back to his side. And when the time is right, he will more than likely sacrifice you to some A-list hero in order to fully push her over the edge into darkness."

"Wow," I said blandly, staring at him. "Your dad sure has my number."

Samuel nodded knowingly, missing the sarcasm entirely. "He does. And he doesn’t plan his corporate strategies in mere years, but in decades. So you see, Polaris, as long as my sister is still breathing, your promised place beside my father will be entirely at risk."

I eyed him carefully. It seemed like actual, functional brains didn’t exactly run in the Jester family.

"Right," I said slowly. "So, you want me to kill your sister so she won’t eventually steal my middle-management position."

"Or simply bring her with you as requested. Father half expects it anyway. But once she inevitably reveals her true colors and attempts to kill him in his own throne room, he will have absolutely no choice but to end her himself."

"Wonderful family dynamic you all have going on," I noted. "Very healthy. Very supportive."

"I’d never claim that," Samuel said. His staticky smile flickered, briefly dropping into a bitter grimace. "It was absolutely perfect before she got it into her thick head to reject father. She always needed everything exactly her own way. Selfishness fundamentally defines her. My father doesn’t see that yet, but he will. And it’s in your financial interest to make sure of it."

The air temperature around the booth seemed to drop. The faint popping of television static grew noticeably louder as Samuel’s composure started to slip.

"Even when we were children, she would constantly hoard his love and his gifts," Samuel growled. His monochromatic outline began to rapidly flicker with a heavy field of visual static, looking like a dead broadcast channel struggling for a signal. "Prancing around the estate, relishing in his attention. Showered with it! Just an absolute whore for affection! How she enjoyed rubbing it in my face. This whole registered hero nonsense is nothing more than another pathetic attempt to get him to look at her. A desperate cry for attention from a spoiled, arrogant child!"

"You really think so?" I said, keeping my voice incredibly even.

"Of course! What else could it possibly be? Father has always treated her better. Gotten her anything she ever wanted. She hasn’t had to work a single day for a thing in her life. And now, he’s just sitting in his funhouse, patiently waiting to invite her back into the fold. The prodigal child returns." Samuel scoffed. "And she does it all just to keep father’s attention strictly on her. Arrogant little bitch that she is."

Christ. He was vastly more delusional than I had initially thought. And significantly more dangerous, too. The deeply insecure, nutty ones were always unpredictable in the absolute worst ways.

"Well," I said, casually tapping my beer bottle against the coaster. "You’ve certainly given me plenty of material to chew on."

Samuel blinked rapidly, visibly pulling himself back together. The heavy static hum died down instantly, and he flashed another mild, perfectly polite smile, the 1930s gentleman routine slotting right back into place.

"Consider it. That’s absolutely all I ask," he said, rising smoothly to his feet with a faint flicker of light. "Just... think on it, Polaris."

I lifted my beer in a completely ambiguous acknowledgment, which seemed to satisfy him. He turned on his heel and made his way back out the front door of the bar, vanishing into the sewers.

The second the door swung shut behind him, I could feel the air pressure in the room shift, as if a collective, desperate breath had just been released by every single patron in the building.

"Goddam," I breathed, taking another long drink.

"Fuck, man," Steve said, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. "Actively trying to contract a hit on your own sister? That’s pretty messed up, even for this crowd."

Samuel’s little PowerPoint presentation hadn’t exactly helped clear things up.

Though, looking at the silver lining, this might actually give me some excellent cover when I brought Vanessa into the funhouse to confront Jester. Samuel and Jester would both just assume I was playing right into their respective hands.

Providing, of course, that my upcoming infiltration of Dr. Bradburn’s charity gala actually proved helpful.

Either way, my initial idea to quietly relax in the bar with a cold drink was utterly shot now.

"Fuck," I sighed, staring at the ceiling. "What an absolute mess."

"I’ll say, man."

I felt a sharp buzz from the inside pocket of my jacket. I pulled out my phone and opened the screen to a new text message from Mystic, formally requesting me to...

Oh.

I couldn’t help but grin.

"Good news?" Steve asked, noticing my expression change.

I chuckled, sliding the phone back into my jacket. "Sort of. Looks like I’ve got to get a suit pressed. I need to get ready to pay a visit to federal prison tomorrow morning."

"Eyyy. Your girl finally lawyered up?" Steve asked, raising his bottle.

"She sure did," I replied. "And that means I need to be standing right there in the room with a hell of an attorney. Thanks for the evening, though, Steve. It was exactly what I needed."

"Ey, man. Anytime," he said with a lazy, good-natured grin. He threw up a thumbs-up, his whole body slouching comfortably back into the vinyl booth. "You do what you gotta do to protect your crew, man. If you ever need some extra bodies for a job, just gimme a call. I’ll be ready."

"Thanks," I said, and I genuinely meant it.

There was still so much work to do.