Chapter 66: A Decade of Absence (3)
I open the door. The gold-painted surface throws the light back so harshly that we both flinch, half-blinded.
A man stands just inside. He’s imposing, broad-shouldered, with a bald head gleaming with sweat. His nose is thick, but almost absurdly small compared to his skull, like some sculptor ran out of clay halfway through.
I let my gaze drift past him, scanning the interior. It’s simple. Tasteful in the way the upper class likes to pretend is humble. The floor is polished wood. The walls are freshly painted.
But I know the truth. The interesting part is beneath us. The hidden rooms. The underground no one talks about.
I incline my head slightly.
“New?” I ask, my voice casual but cold.
He grunts, squinting at me. “And who are you? A customer?”
No, I want to say. But I bite that back and let a smirk twitch my mouth.
“Well. You could say that.”
He tilts his head back a little, trying to make himself look taller. It’s pathetic.
Behind him, I see two men and a woman lounging on a worn couch, cups of steaming porcelain in their hands. Tea. Always tea. The safe drink of cowards and schemers alike.