The Story of Blood and Roses Chapter 89 Heir To The Throne

"No. No one apart from the most important associates and my employees know what I look like. I try to keep my face a secret. My name is enough to get the job done."
"Don't be cocky. We gotta concentrate on the mission in our hands. I can't handle stroking your ego while we're trying to do something serious."
"And we're in here, and he could be out there. This is probably a dumb idea and we might need to come back another day."
"It's not a dumb idea. He's here." I jerked my head inconspicuously towards where Joe was and headed towards the opposite direction. I heard an audible sigh from behind me and knew that he was following me wordlessly. I knew that I had more experience in the stalking department than he did. He was the boss. He usually didn't run behind people, he could have other people do it. That was what happened when people took over their father's empire. Anthony did have the brains, though, which was a given plus for someone in his position. No one could question that he was the rightful heir to the throne.
We took a seat at the bar and waited for the bartender to notice us. Anthony, who usually demanded that he be served first waited patiently and looked around the place.
"They've got good business here," he commented with a hint of appreciation in the tenor of his voice.
"It's a good place to get drunk and have sex. I'll bet you ten dollars that the washrooms are always occupied." I quirked a brow and he laughed.
"People take a dump here?" he acted as if he was surprised, and it made me roll my eyes.
The bartender came around soon enough and asked us what we wanted. I would be inclined to say that he looked me up and down for a moment before he flashed a grin and asked me what I wanted.
"Any beer that you've got," I ordered, much to Anthony's surprise. "Chameleon... I can't trust a think they're trying to sell these unsuspected people, so I'm gonna go safe with this one." It was his time to roll his eyes.
"So much for being a survivor," he snorted. I ignored his little quip and turned to get a better look at Joe.
He was at the pool table, surrounded by a group of ladies who were hanging off of him like leeches. It was quite a scene. All of these women were dressed in sexy clothes which made it impossible for them to be recognized as prostitutes, but everyone knew that that is what they were. I also noticed a few men in the vicinity looking at the group curiously. Joe put on quite a show as he kissed the neck of a girl. He acted like she was his lover, probably what she had done while Cienna worked for him. Joe was probably marking her as the lead woman, the costliest professional in the bar. And he kissed her like a lover. Any girl would fall for a kiss like that; it was no wonder that Cienna was still attached to the bastard.
It was then that my eyes locked on someone who looked uncannily familiar. And this person had no business here.
What the fuck is he doing here?
And I hoped that the glare that I shot his way was enough to let him know what I thought of his presence here. I gulped the mug of beer down and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. I turned to Anthony and saw that he was staring at Joe and the gang.
"Anthony, I'll be back in a few," I told him and didn't wait for him to reply. I shot a warning look at Jacob and then walked out the door to the street. He'd follow soon enough, but I wondered how much time it would take until Anthony followed me out as well. I wondered how I would get away with it, but I took the risk, anyway.
Heavy footsteps that he should have never let anyone hear followed me.
"You're losing your touch, Jake," I chided.
"And you're getting cosy with the enemy," he barked. I turned around slowly knowing that I should have been expecting that reaction. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded.
"No, what are you doing?" I fired back.
"Answer me first. I just saw you walk into that place like you owned it. You walked inside that place with him. You looked like you were fucking each other!" and the dramatics had started.
"Way to be crass, Jake. I'm not fucking him, and you know that if I did... it would be because I had a job to complete," I lowered my voice and looked around to see if anyone was hearing. My eyes were planted on the closed door, ready to shut up the moment the door creaked open.
"Your job? You look like you've forgotten. Let me remind you: he killed your mother." And even though he had whispered, the words echoed throughout the alley. It was deafening.
"I remember. I saw her body."
"And you're still forgetting."
"I saw the pictures as well. I've not forgotten. I'm just trying to push down all the anger and do my job properly."
"No, you're not pushing your anger out. I don't know what they call the mental disease where someone falls in lust with their parent's murderer, but you have it," he sneered. It didn't hurt one bit when he said it. It was close to true.
"I'm sure there is no illness like that, but I'll be sure to brush up on my Freud and let you know," I replied calmly.
"And you're cracking jokes about this! You didn't even try to say that I was wrong!"
"Get your emotions under control, Jake. You know how this works. You do it all the time. We get obsessed with our subjects. I got obsessed with him. This obsession turns into fantasy. It always happens," I rationalized.
"Did Freud say this?" he asked me sarcastically.
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