Chapter Five 55

Chapter Five

Arryn

The universe is aligning. Cosmic forces pull at me as the propitious time for that hellspawn cunt’s comeuppance draws near. The pieces on the board are in position, the variables and timetables I’ve carefully studied and honed are in place, and every piece of my well-oiled plan is in play.

Vivienne Wallace has landed in the center of my web, unaware of the fate that is destined to befall her.

I rap on the door of the closet-sized building the parking garage attendant uses. “Hey Vinnie.” Greeting the cheerful man with a smile, I push the small drawstring bag across my back as I slide five folded hundred-dollar bills into Vinnie’s palm.

He steps out and walks down the row of cars as I slide into his booth and quickly change my clothes. Carefully, I fold the Brooks Brothers button-down and pants and lay them into the bag. I slide into a well-worn pair of jeans and a concert T. I even change my socks, my nose wrinkling with disgust at how even a pair of socks can separate one class of folks from another.

I have no problem spending money. Especially money I’ve earned. I enjoy nice digs and good quality food and expensive toys as much as the next guy, but the excess of opulence kills me. I’ll pay 120K for a solid truck no problem, but a half-million-plus dollars for a Phantom Extended to shop in? Fuck that noise. I’ll be glad to put a cork in the hole bleeding cash from my accounts once Vivienne has been taken care of.

I finish tying the laces of my two-year-old sneakers and slide the rest of my other clothes into the bag. Vinnie knocks once then cracks the door open. “You almost done?”

“Yes, sir,” I answer, sliding the bag under the countertop. Vinnie knows. The whole sordid tale. And the plan. He’s excited as I am that my long years of planning and working are about to come to fruition.

“I picked up a double today, boss. I’m off at eleven tonight.” He reaches up, knocking his cap forward as he scratches the back of his head. Doubt, along with concern, cross his face and my chest cramps. This man has spent his life serving rich, pretentious assholes and still has the capacity, the goodness, to worry about me and what I’m up to.

Holding out a hand, I grasp his. “Thank you, Vinnie. One more minute in that fishbowl and I’d have lost my mind.” My gratitude rings true. Vinnie has been my guy for many trips. For some reason, Vivienne always gravitates back to Mykonos. The Cavitagos, my hotel, is three blocks below the hilltop plaza Vivienne’s third husband left her. It’s one of the few pieces of real estate she didn’t liquidate. I’ve considered buying something here, but there’s no way for me to ensure Vivienne wouldn’t become aware of my presence in some series of unfortunate transactions. Those who service the ultra-rich like to curate an air of confidentiality, but information is always cashed in twice. With the utmost discretion, of course.

That’s why I’ve set up an account for Vinnie and his family. To my knowledge, he’s never uttered a word about the favors he does me. I bugged his phone, and his car, and the money is all deposited into an account two cities over in his dead mother’s name. He’s never spent a dime of it. “I’ll be back before the end of your shift. I’ll have to change into my after-dinner monkey suit.”

Vinnie wrinkles his nose. As far as he knows, I’m a private investigator for the rich. Not that he cares. He judges me based upon how I treat him, not the cash I grease his palm with.

I slip out of his booth and out of the service entrance, heading south, away from the sweeping views of the ocean, the gentlemen’s clubs, the fine dining, and the shops. I head down the narrow, painted cobblestone streets. The Cycladic architecture doesn’t change, only the size and quality of maintenance denotes the people who reside inside.

I slip into the tiny café and order a few bougatsa , yogurt and fruit, and two iced freddo espressos, one sketos , and one poli glykos . Vinnie’s daughter, Eudora, squeezes my shoulders, placing a kiss to each of my cheeks before dropping dramatically into the chair across from me. “Some malaka attempted to end my life with his disgustingly loud motor scooter!” she moans, using the multi-meaning Greek insult in a way that would make her father blush.

The waitress, her arms easily balancing the tray with the breakfast I’d ordered, exclaims loudly, and a slew of angry Greek fills the space above our table as she drops the food between us and places the bill face down on the table. Once she’s finished bemoaning asshole drivers with Eudora, she winks saucily at me before turning to leave. I take the gesture as permission and enjoy the swish of her heart-shaped ass as she sashays away from the table.

Eudora picks up a coffee, sips it, then slams it down in front of me before picking up the second, her expression morphing into something that should be making me blush as she swallows a mouthful of the much sweeter coffee I ordered for her. “Your coffee is as disgusting as that katsikísio mouní you ask me to work for,” she says as she sets the glass down and mulls over the pastries.

I choke, barely managing to swallow the piece of melon I just bit into. “Does your father know you talk like that?” I ask in a mild tone, chuckling as I picture Vinnie’s ears after hearing his daughter call her pseudo-employer a goat fucker.

Eudora shrugs, letting me know she’s so fed up with Vivienne’s shit that her father would agree with her choice of words. “That’s the nicest thing I can think of to call her. She’s a piece of work. She’s horrible to the girl while treating the boy like a prince.”

“Does that cause a rift between them?” I ask.

“I don’t think so?” she answers, hesitating as she thinks. Her face scrunches into a moue of confusion, her hands lifting as she shrugs. “The dynamic in that house is…very odd. The boy and the girl, they avoid very much contact in front of Vivienne. It’s like the boy knows if he shows that he cares at all for his sister, his mother won’t like it. He’s extremely deferential and kind to his mother, and I don’t sense any burning hatred directed at her from him like I do from the girl. It’s weird.” Eudora shudders. “I think he genuinely loves his mother. I don’t know how anyone could tolerate their sibling being treated so poorly. That poor girl is as meek as a church mouse and still the mother finds a way to treat her like she’s worse than shit under a boot heel. There’s a pall over the whole place. The air in that house is warped. The vibe between them…it’s just creepy. Something isn’t right in that family.”

“What do you mean creepy?” I ask, attributing the tidal wave of dizziness that washes over me to the caffeine I’m ingesting. I set down the glass and dab the napkin to the corner of my mouth. Eudora senses the rot that lives and breathes under Vivienne’s roof. Vivienne’s grasp has slipped. She has no idea I’m circling her. Or that her attack will be two-fold; both from the outside, and from within.

“I’m exhausted from living life on the straight and narrow,” Eudora announces, changing the subject to my irritation. “I’m working my ass off, for you , while doing all my course work and helping mama out. Take me out.” She grips the edge of the table, leaning forward just enough that my eyes flick downward, drawn by her tight blouse splitting open over her chest as she rolls her shoulders back.

God damn it. One of the pieces on my chessboard flies off, knocked to the side by a pawn in a well-manicured hand. It’s as if Vivienne is playing and winning when she doesn’t even know she’s been entered into the tournament. “Eudora,” I say gently, reaching across the table to grip her hands. “ While I am deeply grateful to you for taking the job, I cannot in good conscience—”

Eudora holds up her hand. “ Skáse, skáse ! I hear you. It was worth a shot. You are…” She lets her eyes rove over my T-shirt, then grins. “You are too handsome for a katsikísio mouní.” Relief washes through me. I was worried working for Vivienne would be too much for the girl. I never thought Vinnie’s daughter would be bold enough to come on to me. Vinnie must have his hands full with this one. Not only is Eudora beautiful, she’s also smart as a whip, clever, and hard-working. Whoever locks her down will be one lucky fuck.

But she’s also na?ve. Eudora has no idea who she works for. Perhaps it’s time she learns.

I slide an envelope out of my back pocket, paying Eudora in American cash as she’s requested. I know the girl uses it to pay her tuition. I pay her four times to spy for me what Vivienne’s stingy ass pays her to clean the plaza. “Thank you,” I nod, accepting her compliment, annoyed when the young woman grins and tosses her head. “But your quasi-employer won’t be on the market for long, and she’s looking to pull a far bigger fish than little old me.”

Eudora smirks, lifting an eyebrow as she crosses her arms under her…fuck, this time I am not looking. “I hope she ma rries a man with a yacht. He’ll toss her ass overboard before the ink dries.”

“Be careful, Eudora,” I warn, signaling to the waitress to bring two more coffees to go. “Vivienne…she’s dangerous. Get the work done. Keep your head down, and your ears open. Stop worrying about her children. They’ve survived her this long. They’ll be fine.”

Eudora tilts her head and her burgundy painted lips part, as if to ask a question, then close. I sigh. The girl is too fucking curious for her own good. If she tries dipping her toe into the workings of Vivienne’s household, she’ll have her leg ripped off at the hip. I slide my chair next to her and encircle her upper arm in a firm grasp. I yank her toward me, none too kindly, so that her ear is millimeters from my lips. “Stop fucking around and tell me what you really came here to say. I have no interest in fucking you. I can end our business right now if you can’t be a professional.”

She gasps, the skin under my hand breaking out in horripilation, a term that describes exactly what Eudora must be feeling at my sudden change in demeanor. “She…Vivienne…she…she whores both of them out.”

“And?” I growl, tightening my grasp on her arm. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to let her know I can. And will .

“She treats the boy so differently. She lets him have a day job, lets him out of the house, never gets upset with him. The girl…she’s so wary of her mother she measures every breath.”

I say nothing. I simply exhale through my nose and watch Eudora gulp as my warm breath curls over her ear. Her flesh trembles. She wants to jerk her arm away, but she won’t risk a scene. She wants the money she’s raking in from me so badly she’s ignoring every animal instinct in her brain to run. So, she’ll sit here, quaking like a scared little bunny, until I’m satisfied.

I almost exhale again, in relief, but I refrain. Eudora bites her lip, her eyes rolling like a terrified horse as she tries to determine how far she’s pushed me with her come on. “I have no proof, only what my gut tells me, but I think they are fucking each other.”

“Who?” I hiss, demanding an exact answer while knowing she can’t give me one without proof.

“The daughter and the son. The son and mother. Hell, maybe the mother forces her daughter. I don’t know,” Eudora cries. “But there is something in the air of that house that fucks me creepy! ”

My lips jerk up in a ghost of a smile as her English disintegrates in the fog of her fear. Good. Hopefully this experience will hone the girl’s instincts and the next time she’s presented an opportunity to work for someone like me she puts her head down and does only her job. “I don’t care if they fuck each other twice a day and thrice on Sundays, Eudora. Has Vivienne said anything about who her latest mark is or how any of her husbands have died? Anything I can use?”

Her head jerks, her upper lip curling as she finally realizes I’m not who she thought I was. To Eudora, the potentiality of incest is an unspeakable crime. She’s been raised in a stable, hard-working, two-parent family and taken to church like all good little Greek girls are. Eudora has experienced murder, in the news and on TV. She considers murder a crime of passion, and like a lot of girls her age, she secretly romanticizes the lengths some will go to protect what belongs to them. To Eudora, the sexual tension she’s observed playing out in Vivienne’s household is a crime against both God and nature, and the mere thought of such intimate acts being acted upon forces her soul to a shuddering stop. Eudora is incapable, via her programming, of considering that explicit forms of love are far less of a sin than snuffing out a life .

“Is that all?” she whispers, slumping her shoulders until her chest caves in, wrapping her free arm over the breasts she thought she could use as bait. Releasing her arm, I tamp down my victorious smile. The girl’s lust has evaporated. The girl now holds me in the same repulsed comtempt she has for Vivienne and demonspawn. The stars that comprise the night sky of her romantic fantasies with me have all died, leaving only the sucking pull of her revulsion upon her features.

“Yes. Are you capable of finishing your contract?” I whisper in her ear, letting my tone soften into silk as my lips graze the tips of the soft, translucent hair on her earlobe, letting her know that I can ruin her without ever touching her flesh. Her disgust means nothing to me. She is only a tool. I level her with a gaze that tells her exactly how much her opinion means to me.

Eudora swallows hard, her chair screeching against the stone as she jumps out her chair, her eyes wide and her face pale. “I’ll grab my coffee.” In her panic to escape me, she whirls to the counter, her fingers grasping at the top rail of her chair as she desperately scans the café for someone, anyone, to provide an avenue of escape. When she turns her face back for one last desperate glance to assure her pounding heart and fear-addled instincts that I’m not right behind her, I’ll be gone.