- Chapter Ninety-Two -

Can There Be Two?

That... was a very bold claim.

Of course it wasn't unheard of to exaggerate the details (if not outright pervert the truth for one's own benefit), so considering what was on the line, was it really so wrong to doubt the words coming out of the triad punk's gob? Despite being spoken so definitively and with such confidence, deception only made sense, right? A genuine toss up between the old flame of the father and the lovingly harassing nag of the current beau, Chloe figured that she edged ahead on the scale of who knew the heiress second best on the merit of recent history.

Nadine had only had the chance to share a few brief moments of dialog with Daniella, whereas the getaway driver had full on weeks with the girl. Granted a decent chunk of that time Dells had been knocked out... And she had technically been the first one to lose track of the teen... Okay, so maybe she hadn't had the best track record, however they got on alright.

Unfortunately the real question wasn't who had managed the little girl with the least shitty results - it was if the girl had really agreed to the ultimatum or not. And if she had - the 'if' being a huge point in the matter - why?

If the locksmith could say anything about the young woman, it was that she made a better brunette than a blonde. Most definitely a better brunette. And that she was absolutely gaga for Sam. On paper, it seemed very much the sort of crush that could take a girl a little too far, make her live a tad more dangerously than she might on her own... But maybe that was mere projecting on the getaway driver's part.

'Do you reckon he's right about this?' Lips pressed tight into a focused, studious line as she mulled over the available evidence, the dark haired beauty stole a glance at her own counterpoint. Honey more of a darkened wine as she gave it an even deeper layer of thought, Nadine's hazel eyes glimmered pensively as she peered between Drake and the tiger. Victory too pure to be faked, the former mercenary found the subtle ticks behind the thief's reaction to be the most telling clues of all.

Jaw clenching deeper into the gaunt hollows of his skull, the determined set of his cheeks crashing just as hard as the sea lapped at the grain, Sam reared at Jian's words. World-weary and seeking to protect himself before she could land the killing blow - and Sam knew that Dells would be the one to make it - there had had been just enough doubt festering in the back of his mind to believe that there was a possibility that this was for real. She's an Adler for Christ's sake! What did you expect?!

She made her choice.

Words like a potent venom in its purest, most incurable form, there was only the one way to interpret that ballsy claim, and of course it didn't shine a particularly favorable light on the heiress. Knowing exactly how stubborn and single-sighted her direct stock could be, before stopping to think to himself why she might make such a counter-productive decision, Sam was already on the defensive.

Anger spiraling into resent, suddenly the grizzled brunette felt considerably more justified for the preemptive blame he placed on her shoulders; in retrospect, he had simply beaten her to the punch. No matter how Dells attempted to pardon herself, the fact was that she had made up her mind without seeking any input, had committed to a secret promise. To going away...

Remembering the little moments, from lollygagging in the kitchen with a couple beers in hand as they watched Nathan and Elena bustling all around to Dells slipping a small smile his direction for no reason at all, the thief paused.

Considering all the nigh countless times they'd woken up at their absolute worst with the other already up and about, he couldn't not think of those fleeting moments of disheveled vulnerability that had been shared. The mushy whitish sludge that gummed up the corners of her make-up free eyes, the little bit of puss that sometimes oozed out of her stitches to dry in the middle of the night... All together it was a horrendous sight that could have made a lesser man balk, yet the jailbird had stuck it out.

Fueled by an excess of booze and Elena's home cooking one night, the only thing that had come remotely close to making him surrender was the effect of her shifting diet. More specifically, the unspoken indigestion that made itself known before bed.

Pause button held all the way down as he idled in limbo, the adventurer's mind kept on the path it had been treading, even as he watched her hands fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. Feigning interest as she half-listened to Cassie filling the family in on the details of her day, mind obvious elsewhere. Clearly the heiress hadn't wanted to seem rude, especially not towards her hosts, however it was plain that she was over classroom drama. Nate had noticed her boredom as well, quickly steering his daughter into less mundane (and potentially sore) subjects.

Had that been the moment she decided she would leave? Or had it been another moment that had been her deciding factor? How much of it had been a lie?

"Daniella," always ginger with the girl, as if the slightest touch might shatter her into a hundred pieces that not even the king and all his men could put together again, the thief took a moment to appreciate the young woman in his arms. Using her name just because she had asked him to, Sam had gently brushed back the straw-like hair that had fallen from behind her ear again. Tuckered from a full day, covered in half the beach, and then drained from their spat, somehow she had still managed to grin at him in spite of it all. Full to the brim, he kissed the side of her head so sweet and tenderly, "I-"

He had been about to say something he couldn't take back, something he hadn't said sober in a long, long time (unless you counted his brother, and in a very joking way, Sullivan). And then, she beat him to the punch.

And what had his reaction been? To immediately abandon her, to run in the opposite direction, to vilify her.

Brown fibers really more of a woodsy bark color when you focused, the tawny hairs standing out against the yellow bulb were decidedly not of a similar length, one of the longest strands poking out near the extra-wide brim. It was an oddity that Ludoviko had noted upon his initial scan of the room, something that made this hotel stand apart from some of the others they'd had to crash at during the hunt. Not a fact that he ever thought would make a comeback, the hired muscle found himself admiring the table lamp when his boss dropped the bomb.

Jian still had yet to clock that something was wrong, so it was a kindness to let him have this moment. Although, the other three seemed to disagree with this logic... Quieter than usual, the Fraser woman was drinking it all in, watching him just as much as he was watching her and her cohorts. Weighing the new information and keeping her golden eyes on the former convict, Ross seemed hyper-alert enough to hear a pin dropping two rooms over. As for Drake himself... the look on his face said plenty.

Edging closer to his employer, Ludo had all but forgotten the feast laid out on the coffee table. "Sir..." Not entirely sure on how he should proceed, the mop-top positioned himself between all three, to the best of his ability. "Perhaps she should be the one to-"

"That's right," voice rising a whole octave in excitement when he spoke, for half a heartbeat it appeared as if the young crime lord had finally bought that vowel, "proof! Your sort don't believe it unless they see it for themselves, so read it and weep."

Chloe didn't even attempt to hold back her snort, nor did she bother to pretend whisper under her breath when addressing her neighbor, "Even then it's iffy." Not that any giant purple guardians came to mind...

Ever the consummate professional and therefore aware enough to discern when several different things were happening all at once, Nadine gently elbowed the older woman in the ribs. Mouthing at her to behave, the former mercenary turned to the young man with a semblance of grudging respect, "What proof do you have?" It took every fiber of her being not to play the smart-ass like her peers and ask what proof he thought he had. They rubbed off too much.

Pleased to see that at least someone there knew how to humor an official of his rank, the would-be groom inclined his head in open invitation, indicating a slip of paper that had been folded beneath the phone.

Fingers uncharacteristically thick as they trapped one of the stark corners and pried the rest out from underneath the technological paperweight, the transition between looking at the evidence and holding it had nearly been seamless. However, there had been a moment where the former merc had hesitated, holding back just long enough for a certain someone else to do the honors.

While the prospect of what this supposed proof allegedly teased had been titillating enough to capture everyone else's rapt attention, Sam fought against the summons. Tension amplifying with each agonizing millisecond that ticked past, it weighed twice as heavy, and that was even before taking in to account that the mere sight of the card seemed to burn. Dreadful assumption preordaining what would be contained in the written confession, the historian tore his gaze away with more effort than he let show.

Reading her companion's staunch refusal to participate loud and clear, Nadine proceeded to unfurl the simple crease and gandered critically at the contents. Not a particularly long letter from what she could tell, of the two or three lines that had marred the hotel's brand of complimentary napkins, only a single word had been written in English. Bridgeman. Not quite the accomplished bookworm that her associate was, something about the name rang a vague bell, however nothing jumped out. Instead, given that the majority of the script was some form of a character-based langue, she pivoted back around to face Jian before divulging her findings.

"How do we know you didn't just write this yourself?" Scanning the room for a way to settle matters, Nadine thought to perform a simple analytics test. Even if none of them knew Chinese off the tops of their heads, surely comparing the handwriting would clear this up.

Following the mercenary's fixed gaze across the various flat surfaces of the room, Ludo matter-of-factly reached into an inner pocket stitched discreetly within his jacket for a pen. Preparedness could save a life. Keeping up with her line of thinking, he also produced the fadingly lukewarm napkins that came with dinner. Times like these, maybe it was best to learn more than how to just speak the preferred tongue? "I'm afraid I don't really know how to write anything that isn't gibberish, but I take it the slant is really all you're looking for, right?"

Context of pencil, paper, and talk of writing down characters all the clues they required to get on the same page, Chloe and Sam exchanged dumbfounded faces. Did they really have the time for this?! For his part, Jian took the 'borrowed' company quill first, shrugging to suggest that he didn't mind jumping through these hoops. Barely registering the fact that it was only these three he was currently dealing with, in the boss's mind, his bride-to-be had finally relented to the terms he had set; assuaging her team of dullards was a small enough concession.

Despite practically memorizing what she had sent him after spending hours staring at nothing else, the triad member wrote out an entire unrelated sentence in simplified, traditional, Mandarin, and Cantonese. As he finished up, it finally occurred to the young man that it would have been simpler to just have the heiress herself confirm this whole silly ordeal. How long does it take to pack less than a month's worth of supplies?

Taking the blasé way Ryan was approaching this encounter to mean that he had Daniella tucked neatly away, Sam didn't feel quite so rushed to track the girl down, although there was still an unease lingering in his gut. What if the kid's just an idiot? But on the other hand... Try as he might to fight the urge, the thief couldn't not look at the root cause of all this.

[I Before We, Except After Sea]

"Our...?"

Dumbfounded certainly one word for it, lost neck-deep in the shit and blinded by a murder of crows, in this surreal moment the words failed to compute. Had this been some plot twist in one of her novels it would have been obvious to the heiress what her captor was saying, however this was one time she knew real life from the fantasy. Why did this have to be one of those times?

Given the true natures of her parents, between everything she just recently learned about her father, it made sense that there could be... that there would be... that she wasn't the only child.

Daddy... Shaken to the core as the threads making up the family tree came unraveled, even after everything else, Daniella was shocked to find that she could still be surprised. Aware that most people usually weighed their family secrets based on the number of skeletons in the closet, for the young woman it was more a matter of how many wardrobes and secret rooms there were.

Satisfied for the moment, the new contender for the throne smirked at his sister's disarray, not-so-secretly reveling in the chaotic re-contextualizing her brain was forced through. It may not have been her fault that he had been left with nothing, yet that nugget did nothing to sour the experience for him. Always enjoying the moment when the spirit broke, the mastermind wasn't completely without mercy for his kin.

Offhandedly gesturing over his shoulder at the modern traveling trunk opposite the bed, he informed the heiress that he had something for her. As if playing the nice guy would make up for the catastrophic news that had just devastated her life as she knew it. "There are fresh clothes for you. And what was salvageable, if you want it."

Their group's personal shopper had suggested just burning it all, but something told the mastermind that his sibling might have something of sentimental value to hang on to, so he compromised and let the other have at her ruined leggings. For all he knew, they were probably still burning in some back-alley dumpster.

"I'll let you have a few minutes to yourself." Knowing that everyone had a brink they could be pushed over, the young man knew that this was not the time to test her boundaries, so he opted to allow her the time to compose herself. Besides, there would still be the better part of two days left to kill before they arrived at their first pit stop on their way, so there was no pressing urgency.

Left alone without further ado, a stunned Daniella could only stare at the back of the door, the circular window in the portal large enough to reveal that he had locked her inside the cabin. Budging from place only once the coast was clear, Dells rose like a woman possessed from the cot, her fried hair standing at end as she swung her dead legs over the side; metal cold on her feet, it was all she could do to remind herself that this might be her last chance to make herself decent. As she knew from recent experience, it was best to live in the moment, tethering body and soul on one fixed point.

If you know... It was for you....

Bottom most layer of the trunk filled corner-to-corner with an assortment of differently sized multi-packs of women's underwear, just above that was a sprinkling of sports bras. Judging from the familiar labels to be of the highest quality, it was clear that no one had sized her in her sleep, which was massively comforting, especially if it were true. Do I really have a brother? Mind reeling on just how much she still didn't know about her own family, Dells found herself sinking down to her knees as she rummaged through the bin.

Tears welling up in her eyes as her hands fumbled through a modest selection of tank tops and shorts, she hadn't even realized that she had started to cry this time.

Magically transported back to the last time she had wept like this, the heiress had been on the prowl for that perfect something to wear to Cassie's party. Almost natural to be so swept up in the heat of the moment by then, after so long of letting herself get wrapped up in the wonder of it all (even in those most dire instances when everything was in doubt), Dells could honestly tell herself that she nearly forgot that she was aiming to slip away later that night.

In how happy (and for lack of a better word, in love) as she was, Daniella still couldn't stop thinking about Jian's offer, and what it meant for those around her. The implied threat they faced every moment she hesitated. Obviously the young woman didn't want to even think about about being whisked away from Sam, yet imaging what fates could be in store for everyone else was a reoccurring nightmare. Had it only been the two of them there wouldn't have been a problem, but he had people.

So many people... all of whom loved and depended on him. Maybe not in an obvious sort of way, but it went without saying that if anything at all were to happen to Cassie, they would never forgive the heiress. Not a single one. Totally getting it, Cassie was just a kid - the bespectacled blonde didn't deserve to be dragged into this mess for anything. Big enough to admit the truth to herself, Daniella knew that when Sam (and Nate) had left Rafe to die, they had all been adults who had been capable of making up their own minds. Cass was only a child.

And I...

Well, at the time she thought it was more clear cut than what it really turned out to be. For all her bellyaching that she was alone in this life, the heiress had the resting memories and tarnished pride of her ancestors to consider. For everything that he might have been, and for everything she did to further the family name, she would always have her father. No lineage complete with only half the story, whatever issues there were on the Adler side, most all of this came back around to the Wen branches... More specifically, the honor her mother had sacrificed to be with her father.

Look at what being selfish wrought.

Family... Blood, oil, and legacy. Honor... Doing what was right. Even if it was twenty years too late. Faced with the prospect of a rock and hard place, this was undeniably one of those rare times that it was all the same thing. Adhere to the promises made, restore a small piece of what was forever ruined, keep the innocent bloodshed down to a minimum. On paper it all sounded so straightforward... And so much more certain than Sam.

Hellbent from the start to find the perfect outfit to wear to the party (for something that would leave a lasting impression), Dells remembered the moment that she had stopped restlessly shifting through the dresser drawer. Leaning against the bed they shared as it all came crashing over her in a single overwhelming wave, the young woman felt it all pouring out as the tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

Lacking the comfort she had come to depend upon, as much as she was loath to part from her thief - and for this, she did mean that he was hers - it was inevitable that he would leave her. At least this way she could have some dignity intact when she told herself that she was doing it for his sake. That she pulled the ripcord for their families, his just as much as her own. That she was doing it to set her mother's wrongs right.

Lies. Filthy, dirty lies.

Half-truths.

Shower the clock by which her plan lived or died, the heiress steeled what frayed remains of her resolve she could find, creeping on tip-toe from the room with a message that she must have written at least a half-dozen times in her head. Penned in haste, as she was still very much in the dark about what the next stage of the plan was, the memo was threadbare, limited to the name and address of the company they had rented the boat from. And a means of finding her when the time came. Praying that this would be enough to remove all the extra players from the board, she even thought of Logan.

None too surprised to find a hulking figure in a maroon smoking jacket was loitering just outside their domain, when the door swung open he peered up from his book to meet her guilty gaze. Honoring Jian's deadline, she beckoned the paid goon close and hand him the smoking gun with more than a single second thought. "Not until the party is over."

Quickly closing the door in the henchman's face as if she were about to be caught in the middle of a dangerous affair, Daniella returned to the dresser just as the shower shut off, the end telegraphed by the pipes. Wiping her eyes dry before the bathroom door opened the rest of the way, she pictured Elena and Mr. Drake with their daughter, laughing and happy. Chloe making some muted jab as she made Nadine roll her eyes into the back of her head, all of which was in good fun. She even thought of Rafael taunting Sam, as they did.

Please, please know that I did it for you... Begging in her heart for that to be the extent of the truth as much as she wanted Sam to understand why she did what she did, Daniella wasn't even asking him to forgive her.

Author's Note:

100 chapters baby! 100! Holy hell, that is SO FREAKING MUCH! A huge round of applause to anyone who read even a single chapter :)

Heh, on to the chapter itself. Yeah, I agree it might be a little 'wtf' that they stopped to test handwriting samples, but it just kinda happened... Other than that, I did debate/am still debating if it was a good call to explain Daniella's reasons for reaching out to Jian. For the most part, I think it works. We'll see in the future if it was worth it, I suppose. Anywho, can't really think of anything else to add...

Stay safe y'all!