Page 26 of Stormhold

I nodded as we both leaned over the stone-cased railing, watching the distant ocean waves crash on the shore. “I didn’t know you spoke Japanese.”

“I speak more than a few languages,” Arkane said with a far-off look in his eyes. “I had to learn more than just languages.”

He said he had to, not that he wanted to. His eyes remained trained on the soft waves as he took a sip of bourbon. The look on his face told me he was somewhere else. Arkane Stormhold was a complex man. Nothing about him was as it seemed.

“Are you close?” he asked after a beat, bringing his eyes back to me. “You and that Shouma?”

“Hmm.” I nodded with a smile. “He’s the only friend I have.”

Arkane chuckled, drinking the last of his bourbon. “He wants to get into your pants.”

I laughed back, shaking my head. “Shouma-kun wants to get inside everyone’s pants. Only he will never get in mine.”

“And why is that?”

“Shouma-kun is a handsome man. He could have a thousand women, but I only want one man, and knowing Shouma-kun for years, I’m certain it’s not him.”

Something unfamiliar flashed in Arkane’s eyes as he turned toward me. “The man you want— what qualities must he possess to be yours?”

“More than qualities, I must say it would be more of a connection,” I replied. “Something rare and true that you only feel with that one person for the rest of your life.”

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head, but he didn’t get the chance to reply when Mikhail announced that it was time for us to go. Instead of leading us out, he stood there with a piece of paper clutched between his fingers.

“What?” Arkane asked, noting the serious look on Mikhail’s face. The lightness of our previous conversation faded as we both raised our guard.

“Her friend wanted to give her this.” Mikhail handed Arkane the note as he stepped closer to us. “It’s best we leave now, sir.”

Arkane frowned at the note before handing it to me. At this point, we were already following Mikhail as he led us through a path on the side instead of the way we arrived.

“What is it?” Arkane’s tone was eerie and composed as he questioned Mikhail, his grip on my hand tightening. We didn’t raise flags among the other guests as we walked through the passageway that lined the side of the ballroom, heading toward the garden and the shrouded tall trees in the distance.

“The fox has latched onto us,” Mikhail whispered to Arkane, who nodded back like he understood.

Who is Fox, and what has it latched onto?

Two other men dressed in black joined us. They nodded to Mikhail before they walked guard behind us. Must be some of the extra security Arkane had on the property.

“There is some sort of unrest. It’s best we don’t linger to take any risk.” Even though Mikhail spoke to us calmly, his eyes remained stark on our surroundings.

I was curious as to what kind of relationship Arkane had with Mikhail to trust him with his life. I don’t think he even once questioned Mikhail’s loyalty to him. There must be some big reason for a man like Arkane to be convinced of such trust.

I opened the note that Shouma-kun gave me. After our little interaction, I hadn’t seen him all night. Whatever reason he was here for, it must be important if he hadn’t taken the opportunity to give me the note in person.

“Lernea lost her lunch box but found her dinner.”

Arkane’s brows furrowed as he read the note. “What does that mean?”

“It’s a simple way to pass a message among the Valerians. We call it the Valerian dialect. It says there was to be a heist tonight, but the plans seem to have changed, and you’ve become the target,” I said, my wide eyes on Arkane’s, and he nodded, stiffly getting the message.

The only possible heist tonight would be for the thirty-million-dollar diamond. Was that why Killian Glen was here tonight? But why the sudden change of plans? Did Arkane’s presence ruin his initial plan, and did Killian want retaliation to stroke his ego?

The air around us held the stillness of the night despite our rushed circumstances. Through the expansive open windows, the crowd in the ballroom remained unbothered as they entertained each other while the men cut into their meat and the women fiddled with their salad, with a little too many momentary wine breaks. From this point of view, I could hardly see Killian Glen or Harvey Walters anymore, but common sense told me that they wouldn’t move an inch, because risking an attack on Arkane and failing would be the end of them.

Soon, the bustle of the party thinned, and we reached the edge of the forest, taking a sharp turn toward the shore as the quiet night greeted us. The smell of salt water became heavy, and the sound of the crashing waves felt dire in the darkness. The closer we got to the ocean, the more my heels started to dig into the soft sand, and the gushing winds almost broke my walk. I felt more vulnerable than usual without my blades, but I kept going, feeling my pulse rise by the moment. On the distant shoreline, I could see a speedboat and a man standing next to it, a blinking flash pen pointed our way. Before Mikhail could signal back to him, a sudden swirling whoosh sped through the air, and nothing seemed to happen for a second before the man swayed, hitting the side of the boat with his head before he dropped cold to the ground.

The next thing I knew, a hard force pushed me down, my chin grazing on the rough sand as Arkane covered my body completely.

“Use this,” he said quickly as he handed me a semi-automatic pistol. We jumped to our feet as gunshots were fired all around us. In the cold, shadowy night, it felt like sparks of fire were bursting in the air.