"Gentlemen," Monte said, "I'm sure we can come to an agreement here!"

Two beefy demons held both of his arms, forcibly escorting him out of the dining hall and into the hallway. They wore white outfits, setting them apart from the normal officers he had seen roaming the ship, tired expressions on both of their faces.

"Shut up," the demon to his right huffed, a hellhound with sharp teeth and a large physique, "Or we'll make you regret it."

He knew they were all bark and no bite. Killing somebody of his status, even if that status had been slandered and dragged through the dirt, would have dire consequences for lowlifes like them. Physically, they may have had the upper hand, but Monte had the true power, their lives in his hands.

And he knew what would make people like them tick.

"Are you sure about that?" Monte reached into his pocket and took out a wad of bills.

There was a pause as they eyed the money, softening their painful grip on his skinny arms.

Bingo

"You fuckin' didn't…" the other guard said, mouth agape, "You're a fuckin' liar!"

Monte grinned, "As I said, I'm sure we can reach an agreement."

The two of them appeared shocked, before reaching for the wad that he had in his hands, drooling over it like a couple of savages. He was a businessman, after all, and negotiations like these were a part of his daily life, knowing exactly how to get what he wanted.

You're right where I want you.

He waited until their hands were right in front of his, before whipping out his cane and whacking both of them in their heads.

"Hey!" they boomed, dropping the money and running around like spooked mice.

But they were already too late.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Monte reached into his pocket and took out his gun, but not just any gun.

The gun glowed white with a pointed tip.

Blessed weaponry. Enough to kill royalty. Which would be more than enough to kill these two meatheads.

Awe was painted on the goons' faces, probably having never seen anything above a simple handgun in their lives. They backed themselves up against a wall, their strength useless against blessed weaponry, fear in their eyes as their pupils shrunk.

Don't worry, you won't be suffering for much longer.

Loading in the few angelic shells he had, he took aim, the two standing so close to each other that he was able to take them both out with one bullet. The silencer did its job, muffling the blast enough for nobody to notice. Not yet.

Within seconds, the goons lay dead on the floor, blood oozing out of their skulls like sap from a tree. The bullets left a white glow in the open wound, far too strong for a pair of mere hellhounds to survive.

Admiring his work before running off, he tucked the gun away, taking off down the hall and headed for room 256, where Stella would hopefully be waiting for him to report back.

He bent down and snatched the bills from the floor, chuckling to himself as he trotted through the ship, while the corpses remained against the wall, life leaking out of them like water from a rusty pipe.

"Oh Stella," he rapped his cane against the door, "Let me in."

The locked clicked before Stella's head poked out, "About fucking time you came back."

She let him inside, motiong for him to sit down on a chair positioned at the foot of a large bed. Looking at the clock, it was almost eleven, having been gone for almost two hour.s

"Spill," she said, "What happened down there?"

Oh this was going to be good.

"Well, first I paid your husband a visit at the table," Monte went on, "He was less than excited by my appearance, which I did not appreciate." He faked a frown, "Anyways, he called in some security buffs who took me out and into the hallway. Jokes on them, though, I killed 'em."

"Impressive. Find anything out about our little friends?"

"Yes actually," he laughed, "The scrawny little imp was wasted. I saw it in his eyes. Those fearful, glazed-over little eyes. We could snatch him up tonight if you want to, get some information out of him before we kill 'em. He's weak, and he'll break quickly. I've dealt with his type before."

Stella grinned, clearly excited for such a vulnerable and easy target, "I wouldn't be opposed…"

A light bulb suddenly went off in his head.

He ran over and pulled out the passenger list, along with his file of intel that he had gathered in the months leading up to the trip. He knew not to underestimate his opponents.

He matched up what he had seen at the table with the photographs he had gathered, finding just what he needed to know.

The imp in question was named Moxxie, and a skilled marksman. He had a wife who was with him in every picture he had obtained, and from the looks of it, she could complicate things if she got in the way.

Not that they couldn't take her down, but they needed live bait. Something that would draw Stolas and the rest of his lackeys right into their trap. They would have to kill her if she got too close, and that wouldn't do anything to help. The killing was supposed to come after .

Oh, how thrilling it was to finally be seeking revenge on his arch nemesis! Thanks to that man, the Heish name had been dragged through the dirt and stomped on, every ounce of respect he had once had snatched away quicker than the sun could set. He went from a billionaire to a pariah in the course of a day, being spit on and booed whenever he dared to step out in public.

It wasn't like he hadn't tried to seek out revenge before, either. He had sent out criminals to kill them, had tried burning down their mansion, and had even tracked them down in the street before and attempted to take care of things himself.

But every single time, that damned owl and his inbred family would find some way to weasel out of it., no matter how ludicrous the solution was. Every single time, they would escape his grasp, right when he had them in the palm of his hand. Every single time, he would leave defeated.

If he had his way this time, the Goetias' luck was about to run out. Maybe he'd even take Stella out if the opportunity presented itself, but not yet. Not while she was still useful to him. He wasn't about to sacrifice his queen just to capture a few pawns.

His eyes were on the king, carefully planning each move, using each pawn to his advantage. Every move was strategized, no opportunity wasted. If you played the long game, the prey would delude itself into a false sense of security. The longer the better.

And it was all coming to fruition

Damn you, Stolas! Damn you to hell-Oh wait.

We're already there.

We'll just have to make it worse for you, then.

"He's married," Monte continued, "So we'll have to catch him alone."

"Why not just take both of them?" Stella asked, clearly not having paid attention.

"Because his wife's a fighter, just look at her file! We'd have to kill her, and they won't come after us for a corpse. They'll come much faster if the bait is alive, if you get what I'm saying."

Stella stopped to ponder what he was saying, "Very well. He'll be easier to snatch if he's drunk anyways."
Monte put the files and papers away in a drawer, before sitting back down, crossing his legs and laying his cane across his lap. There was a lightness in his heart, giddy at the mere thought of finally giving Stolas what he deserved. It was the first time he had felt anything close to joy in decades.

You're mine, Moxxie.

We'll toy around with you for a bit.

Then when we no longer need you…

Well...you don't need to know that.

"What are you sitting down for?!" Stella snapped, "Get up and follow him and see where the hell he's going!"

"Fine But before we do that, we're taking that grimoire." He stood up, "The more we take, the quicker they come."

Another pawn to play with. Another piece to add to their maniacal game. Another step closer to having royal blood on his hands.

"You still have bullets left after taking out those goons?"

"Bitch, please. I took them out in one hit."

"And that's why I hired you."

As quickly as he had come in, Monte stood up and headed out the door, Stella in tow as they armed themselves in the event of a run-in. He hoped to hold off the killing for as long as he could to savor the moment, but if worse did come to worse, it never hurt to be prepared. He was no fool.

"After you," he said, faking a bow, "You are the queen, after all."

"Shut up before I hire somebody to kill you too," she hissed, "Just get moving."

"As you wish, your highness!"

Watch out, Goetias!

The Heish name is not one to be mocked.

And if this gun has anything to say about it, you'll be dead by Monday.

I'm sure of it.

You had your time in the spotlight.

Now it's your turn to suffer.