It took us a little time to return to Cain Manor. A proper celebration requires some indulgences, so we paid a visit to a late-night bakery I relish. The owner prepared a fresh chocolate cake for me, which I compensated for by paying triple the asking price. What’s more, he gave me a bag bursting with chocolate chip cookies.

I could almost taste the rich, creamy aroma that teased my nose. The only thing better was being fed the warm, gooey cookies by Becca while sitting in the back of the car.

It would’ve remained a purely positive celebration if not for a figure in a black hoodie loitering outside Cain Manor’s perimeter gate.

“I’ll see what this is about,” Wynn said as he parked the car, the headlights illuminating the figure before us. He opened the glove compartment and exposed the silver revolver he stored.

The sight siphoned blood from Becca’s peachy complexion. “I thought you didn’t kill people…”

“I’m a bodyguard,” Wynn said as he popped the door open. “It’s my job to put down threats.”

“Assuming he’s a threat,” I said, my voice steady. I wasn’t fond of this part of his job either, but I recognized its necessity. “Only use lethal force if there’s no alternative.”

I hooked an arm around Becca’s shoulder and pulled her down to the car’s carpet. “Stay down, just in case.”

Wynn stepped out and leveled the revolver at the man, who rose his hands up.

“I’m not here for trouble!” the figure called out as he pulled back the hood. He revealed a black, short mohawk.

My heart thrashed; it was Crow.

“Cassidy’s in there, right?” he called out. “I just wanna talk! And you’re gonna want this to be in private!”

I pursed my lips. I figured it had something to do with his belief that I was Ozonnole, but that’s all I could assume.

“I got something to tell you about a certain fox!” he continued.

Does he wish to warn me about myself? I mused as the irony of informing Cassidy Cain about The Grandmaster of Theft struck me.

I grabbed my phone from nearby and called Wynn. He answered while remaining trained on Crow with his free hand.

“Lend your phone to him,” I said.

Wynn did as I instructed, placing his phone on the gravel. Then he told Crow to speak into it.

Crow crossed the space with absolute ease, as if the revolver wasn’t there, and retrieved Wynn’s phone before pressing it to his ear.

“Who are you?” I asked since he never met me as Cassidy Cain. “And what do you want?”

“Let’s not play that game, Red,” Crow said. “Or should I call you Iris?”

Something harsh and glacial seized me, froze me. Without thinking, I began to say, “I’ve no clue what you’re talking—”

“I’m here to take you up on your offer. Become a ‘noble thief’, that whole jazz. The offer still stands, right?”

Wh-what?! I thought. I had no clue where to begin, everything was moving so fast. The first thing I had to know was how he knew – if he truly did know. He could’ve been bluffing based on suspicions, much like I had with Vincent.

“Sir,” I said, “I don’t know why you’re—”

“Cassidy,” Crow said, “I’m not dumb. At least, I’m not that dumb. The whole ‘Ozonnole is Cassidy Cain’ thing had me fooled for a little, but I got on track to the truth when building a dossier for you. I had to get some pics for it, so I did an online search. And guess what I found?"

“I’m certain you could’ve found all sorts of things. I’ve been in the public eye for much of my life. None of it proves anything.”

“When it comes to aesthetics, I’ve got an eye for detail. I also happen to like pretty girls. Did you legit think I wasn’t going to not notice how similar The Grandmaster of Theft without a shirt and Cassidy Cain in a bikini look?”

My breathing hitched while heat climbed up my face.

“Plus,” he said, “you didn’t put much effort into that disguise when you went to The Melting Pot. Not sure why, but I know you’re connected to all this somehow.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I’m hunting The Grandmaster,” I said.

“Uh-huh. I’d maybe believe that if you didn’t claim yourself as Oz. I thought it over and, well, I realized the two things someone who calls herself a noble thief would never do: give over a target’s real name to get murdered and endanger innocent people. I’m willing to bet you planned to trap me or something too. It’s the type of vibe you give off.”

I began to grind my teeth, but then a thought scrambled from the back of my mind: I could order Wynn to fire. I could silence Crow then and there. He was a criminal and this was my home. I could’ve disguised it as a threat somehow.

Rebecca would never accept that, I thought. Then I realized that my first response should’ve been that I couldn’t accept such a solution. Or even consider it to begin with.

Gale’s words from earlier replayed.

The ‘nobility’ people credit her for can’t last in such a trade.

Heat climbed up my face as Grandpa’s words followed.

Nobody starts as evil. What’s to stop you from becoming a monster?

My chin slumped with my shoulders. At that moment, I genuinely didn’t feel I deserved to call myself The Grandmaster of Theft.

But I AM still The Grandmaster, a part of me spoke up. Chastising myself wouldn’t get me out of the predicament. It wouldn’t protect my crew. Besides, even if I had considered such things, I hadn’t acted on them. And I wouldn’t act on them. Instead, I’d discover the thoughts I deemed best to act on.

What are my options? I thought, simplifying everything to make it easier to decide.

I could either, one, continue to lie, or two, admit the truth.

He likely wouldn’t believe me if I lied. I didn’t have any convincer. What’s more, I doubted he’d fall for the same trick I used against Vincent. The conditions weren’t the same.

He says he wishes to join the crew, I mused. He would be a boon – assuming he told the truth. I doubted he did. What struck me as far more likely was an attempt to infiltrate my operation to learn Ozonnole’s identity. It would come up sooner or later. Even if we kept it secret from him, he’d gain clues. He clearly could decipher it for himself with sufficient thought.

That said, I had no inkling what he’d do next if I didn’t accept his offer. Perhaps he’d stalk me to try and obtain decisive evidence? If he did, it would be difficult to proceed. And there was always the possibility he’d expose me regardless. While he didn’t possess enough knowledge to harm me legally, evidence was an afterthought in the underworld.

Better to keep him close, I decided. At least then he’d be in my sphere of control. “You’d make a good detective, Crow.”

Crow grunted a low chuckle. “Maybe, but I’m a great thief. I’d be a real asset to your team.”

“I thought you worked alone. Why the change of heart?”

“Seems like the best move for now. I can’t pressure you into telling me – been there, tried that – and I’d be bluffing if I said I’d expose you. Oz goes free if you go down, right?”

“Correct.”

“Then yeah, I can’t expose you. This is the best move.”

“How do we know you won’t betray us?” I asked. “We’re still not killing Ozon. And I won’t let you kill them either.”

“Thought you’d say something like that,” he said. “I don’t want to betray you again, so I’ll be upfront with you: my main reason I wanna work with you is so I can get my hands on Oz.”

“…And why is that supposed to persuade me into accepting…?”

“You don’t have to second guess things with me. You know what I’m after and so you can come up with whatever you want to keep me in the dark. Plus, since I have no option but to stick around you, you know I’ll do whatever I can to make myself useful.”

I blinked. As much as I loathe to admit it, his logic was sound. What’s more, a partnership would grant me more opportunities to sway him away from murdering Vincent.

“You have us at a disadvantage,” I said, “seeing as you know my name and I don’t know yours.”

“Alban,” Crow said. “Alban Sinclair. Ask Lilah to confirm it for you if you need to – I’m sure she’s got it on file. Anything else?”

A jolt launched up my spine as an alternate explanation to everything materialized in my head. Crow could’ve told Lilah that “Ozonnole is Cassidy Cain”, which could’ve prompted Lilah to betray me. Then Lilah could hire Crow to infiltrate the crew. The explanation he provided, the deduction, could’ve been a pretext to disguise the betrayal.

I narrowed my eyes. “Have you spoken with Lilah yet?”

“Yep. Thought I’d need to keep her off my neck. Wish I hadn’t acted yet, but ah well. I’ll leave it to you to smooth things out there.”

I chomped on my cheek. If he had said no, I could’ve tested Lilah’s reaction to the news of his betrayal and deduced if she was acting or not. Perhaps I still can, I mused as my mind shifted to another approach to the trick.

If Lilah wasn’t the mastermind behind Crow’s actions, she’d showcase genuine surprise when I informed her of what he had done. If she failed to respond, I’d still suspect her, but my theory would remain a theory. Finally, if she feigned surprise, I’d gain absolute certainty.

I bent my lips into a tiny smile. I’d unravel the truth. “Place your number into that phone. You’re free to leave once you’ve returned it to us.”

“Yes, Captain!” Crow pulled his legs together and bumped his right arm against his chest, imitating a military salute. “Thank you, Captain!”

He followed instructions before placing the phone on the ground and strolling into the nearby woodland.

Wynn retrieved his phone after Crow vanished and returned to our car. I explained what occurred and, well, it should go without saying that the celebratory mood was ruined. Wynn retired to his bedroom, wishing to be alone. Becca joined me in my bedroom, though she wasn’t eager anymore, so she laid down while I seated myself at my home PC and worked on how we’d proceed thereon.

The starting point was simple enough. So long as Vincent’s dead man’s trigger existed, I couldn’t touch him. Thus, I had to disable it. And to disable it, I had to learn how it functioned.

It wouldn’t work if Vincent is the only one who knows, I reasoned, since it would require someone else to carry out the deeds.

My thoughts turned to Wyatt first, though I had no way of knowing if he was the only person carrying out Vincent’s will. There was also The Braterdarii, who had some form of connection to him.

We should focus on The Braterdarii, I concluded. Wyatt required far more of a hunt. The Braterdarii, meanwhile, could be targeted whenever I wished.

I glanced over to Becca and the weight of everything bore down on me once more. We weren’t on the same level as The Braterdarii. Becca was still too fresh. Grandpa was still too reluctant. Wynn seemed too frustrated by everything. And Crow was…Crow.

I shook my head. I was thinking of it the wrong way. I had a retired security consultant, a genius stage magician, a loyal bodyguard with a criminal upbringing, and an experienced contract criminal at my disposal. If we came together, we’d be a formidable team. It was my job, as the leader, to make us a formidable team.

I can do this, I reassured myself before telling myself it’s who I am – that I am the one who finds a way.

It didn’t take me too long to formulate a rough path forward. We’d take on smaller jobs and grow with them, with me fine-tuning any issues with each job. Then, once I felt the team ready, we’d advance against The Braterdarii.

Assuming, of course, I didn’t uncover anything while working with him. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we had a couple of options. Disarming his dead man’s switch would be a cinch.

I indulged in a smirk for a moment, as the thought of Vincent's helplessness played out in my head. I pictured myself atop him, strangling him, suffocating him, killing him.

Gale’s words leaped to the front of my mind once again. The ‘nobility’ people credit her for can’t last in such a trade.

I flattened my lips as my heart torqued. I’m not my thoughts, I told myself, but… a part of me wondered if Gale was right about me. While I hadn’t acted on any of it yet, thoughts are the genesis of action. And I wouldn’t have been thinking about such things if I hadn’t been embroiled in such a predicament in the first place.

I huffed out a peeved breath. It seemed no matter the route I chose, problems existed. If I followed the laws, I risked inefficiency. If I broke the laws, I risked monstrosity.

I’ll worry about it later, I decided as I heaved myself out of the chair. My legs warbled – I had been up far too long – but I managed to trudge my way over to my bed before collapsing next to Becca.

It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep. But before I did, thoughts of everything I had to do swirled through my head.

I must hide Narcissa, free Sylvia, confront Lilah, outfox Crow, disarm Vincent, discover a new job to train the crew with, and, of course, donate The Maker’s Tear.

I decided to attend to the last of those concerns first, as it would be the simplest. Or, at least, I figured it would be the simplest…

Part 8 End