"Correct!"

The words broke through Soleil's fear like a lightning bolt, only to leave behind a strange lightness. It felt good when the stress eased; when she could say with a clear conscience that she hadn't made a mistake.

When Hachibald reached out to claim the key, Chrollo instantly complied. The golden, almost large jewel came out of his pocket and landed straight in the grasp of the guard, who finally opened the vault. It was exactly what Chrollo had been waiting for. The step into the very room he had been unable to overcome on his own.

Unconsciously, Soleil hooked on her companion again and followed him as they strode together into the interior of the well-guarded secret. The first thing that caught Soleil off guard was the smell of old paper. Scrolls that looked almost antique were stacked on shelves several metres high. Dim light shimmered down from the ceiling and the dry air scratched the throat.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Soleil let go of Chrollo. He, meanwhile, took the freedom to survey the surroundings. His long strides led him along the shelves and drew him to boxes whose wood was worn. He opened a few of them until he stopped at one of them. His hand reached in, making Soleil hold her breath, making her raise her brows as he pulled out a key. Nondescript in bronze, a little rusty in places, entirely forgotten by time.

When he pocketed it, it seemed the mission was indeed over. The satisfaction in his gaze made it clear they had reached the end.

One that made her swallow.

Her chest weighed heavier than lead as the corners of her mouth pulled down and the certainty became more real with each breath. It was over. The simple life that had reminded her so much of days gone by would fade. Chrollo would no longer be by her side and even if that part was no loss, it would make everyday life lonely.

She would have to dance.

And nothing would have changed except the money in her bank account.

"We should stay a little longer, just to be sure." Although she hadn't wanted to say anything, the suggestion slipped from her like a devious snake. She wasn't ready yet, didn't want to leave and see all this dwindle. Archihilles' death was no loss, nor was it a tragedy to know that everyone present in this place would soon need a new job, but the fairy tale of living here a little longer tempted her.

Chrollo, however, merely nodded off her suggestion before turning his attention to the books, records and scrolls of parchment that took up the room. There was no piece of free wall. No escape. Only knowledge.

Cautiously, Soleil approached a few of the books. The inscriptions were illegible and the letters that lay before her mocked her. It seemed as if they were detaching themselves from their place to dance across the covers so that she didn't understand the least bit.

Books were a problem with seven seals that she had never solved.

Probably she never would.

So she took some distance and let her gaze wander back to the man who had already grabbed one scroll to study it. His loose black hair shimmered under the artificial light and his earrings gleamed a soft blue. In his slightly too small suit, his body gave the impression of having been locked up and yet he wore it all with an elegance she had never seen in someone who was probably her age.

He had never told her about himself, and yet Soleil believed that he might have come from a rich background. Someone who had been born with the gift of striding lightly through the world. Very different from her, who came from a rich home and had failed in all the little aspects.

The sigh on her lips sounded pathetic as Chrollo lifted his gaze and glanced at her before closing the inscription and putting it back on the shelf. "We should close the deal."

There was no friendliness in his voice, nothing that welcomed her. Instead, it was the indifferent emptiness that had also caught her in the car on the way to the party. He knew how to do business and wherever he had learned to behave like this – to commit such crimes and get away with it unseen – she couldn't imitate him.

Still, Soleil brought the bank account number to her lips, giving Chrollo the opportunity to transfer the money.

"I suppose this is where we part ways, isn't it?" The unevenness in her words made her clasp her fingers tightly.

Chrollo did the same, getting the necessary bits and pieces ready to wire her half a million Jenny.

"Indeed," he finally confirmed. "But I will take you home. If we split up now, we'll stand out."

At least she wouldn't have to invest money in a taxi. Chrollo had enough sense of honour to make the journey home with her. A few last hours before she would be back at square one.

Back to the daily grind.

Her breath forced deep into her lungs once before she struggled to smile and pointed towards the exit. "Then we should go. It takes a little while to get enough distance."

The smirk on his lips possessed the gentle hint of an endearing man. Yet he was unknown. Just a person she knew nothing about, yet who could easily pull her along. When Chrollo offered her his arm, she didn't even hesitate to latch on. Time had passed far too quickly, had hurried her through this mission far too hastily.

But perhaps it was for the best.

She couldn't be absent forever. She was probably already missed at the club and the boss didn't pay for loafing.

The tap of her companion's knuckles against the metal of the door reached her only vaguely in the background. Not even when it was opened to let them out did the world come to the fore. Instead, Soleil simply allowed herself to be led.

Chrollo's voice turned to two masked men whose faces appeared bright silver, and it reminded her of the first day she had looked into the emotionless grimace of a servant. Nothing had changed about the absurd feeling and it was one of the few things she really embraced: there were no shadows on the walls watching her at home.

Her legs carried her straight, unceremoniously, outside, where they were shown to a car in which they would be left all alone. No chauffeur. No eyes. Instead, a silver two-seater that Archihilles must have used to drive away with his wife. Just like that. Without duties and following the chaos behind it.

Only slowly did Soleil detach herself from Chrollo before settling into the proffered passenger seat and watching as her companion found a seat beside her.

Then he started the engine, and her gaze fixed on the proud exterior wall of the house.

And part of her wanted to go home.

Back to where she had been thrown out the door.

► T E W ◄

Chrollo stopped in the darkness, between buildings and busy streets where weary businessmen were waking up. Bright advertisements flickered across screens presenting new clubs for party-goers. The city was drunk with the evening, and this despite the shops hadn't been open long.

Her fingers had clutched the door handle long before Chrollo had pulled up on the right. The silence they had lived through on the way home had been strange. Just as strange as he was. And presumably it had been goodbye too.

Still, she turned to him once more before she got out. "Thank you ... for bringing me home."

She didn't know what else to say. The journey was over. They had reached the end, and no one was waiting anymore.

"You're very welcome," he returned tersely, holding that smile on his lips that couldn't be interpreted because it was hollow. Still, Soleil returned it.

Then she pushed out of the car, closed the door and followed Chrollo with her eyes for a moment longer as he drove off. Somewhere into no-man's-land, far away from her. Her breath formed little clouds. The cold didn't hold back, and it was only when she really understood the goodbye that the trembling of her shoulders reached her. Hiira's dress, sleeveless, far too short and with a low neckline, wasn't suitable for the late evening in an awake city. So she took the freedom to take off her high heels, pick them up and run.

Walking barefoot down the streets was a bit of stubbornness she enjoyed, leading her down the short path to where her flat waited.

The walk up the stairs clung icily to her toes, and it wasn't until she reached the front door and pulled the key from a small hiding place next to the letterbox that calmness pattered over her. The door opened and welcomed her into the tiny squares of her life. The cold had settled in this place too and it forced her to reach for the first blanket she could get her hands on. She left the light switched off.

The glare of the streetlights was enough to at least cast some light into her flat. Freedom suffocated within these four walls and as Soleil rested her head on her drawn knees after settling herself in front of the sofa, pain met her insides.

She had lived this way for far too long. Poorly paid and somehow forgotten by the world. Her father would surely have wanted something different. He would have loved her, despite the quirks she possessed. But his death had been the end of a happy family that had never really known each other. He had forced her mother back into the hands of the Meuniers, and Soleil out of the house with her.

Out of a home she deserved.

If it wasn't for her mother, all these things would be hers. She was the last in her family. The only one who still had a use for all that would be left behind when her mother died. Maybe even the two servants she had spent part of her childhood with were still there. Ace and Roxy. The only girls who had treated her normally. Children who had been only two years older and had seen no problem in Soleil not being like their mother.

Maybe they would meet again when her mother simply disappeared.

Hastily, she shook her head.

She couldn't kill her mother. This woman had given her life, she had raised her – to a certain age – and given her food and a roof over her head.

Simultaneously, she had despised Soleil. Whenever she hadn't been enough, her mother had become angry, sometimes even violent. There had never been love. Never affection. Only bitter rejection that Soleil would never be able to make up for.

Status meant more than family. More than her own daughter, who had brought nothing but shame with her. And perhaps it was this very medicine that she now had to give her mother.

Hesitantly, Soleil reached for her phone, which rested on the small table, to dial Illumi's number. A combination of numbers she had once noted, and then, somewhere between chaos and unresolved questions, memorised. Ever since he had given her an option, she had hardly got that number out of her mind. And when the chat opened between them, she held her breath for a moment.

Her fingers faltered.

Inquiring didn't mean she would do it. Assassins were expensive. You didn't just commission something if you were poor in principle. Still, her voice trembled at the voice recording that would turn into text all that her heart desired. A few simple lines explaining to Illumi who she was, what her mother's name was and asking how much a murder would cost if it was made to look like an accident.

Sending it was easier than speaking, and part of her seemed to forget the tension when she received a reply barely five minutes later.

With a tap, she had the message read to her. A woman's artificial voice rattled across the lines, informing her she would be given a discount and that half a million was enough to fulfil her wish. She would only have to confirm.

Presumably, he knew what she had received from Chrollo. Assassins supposedly knew everything, or at least were good at finding things out. He wanted everything she had got. Every single Jenny. She would get a lot more in return. She wouldn't have to dance again. Never again. The bass wouldn't be thumping in her head anymore, and maybe she could do something that gave her pleasure. Something else that needed money put into it first to create more. Money she would have if she agreed.

Thinking about it in this way made it awfully easy.

Her resolve wasn't quite made when she recorded herself uttering a "yes" that reached Illumi in the next blink of an eye.

The seconds after that were drowned in doubt.

He helped her because she had helped him and yet – was it right?

Having one's own mother killed had the flavour of a murderess. Because of her, someone would die; a part of her family would be lost in eternal oblivion. No one would be there anymore. And even though she was used to being alone, it had a different weight in those breaths. It rested on her shoulders, smiling at her attempts and taking pleasure in taking away her peace.

The phone landed on the floor beside her as she leaned back; her back finding support against the sofa. She needed to think of something else, to banish the thought, because she wasn't wrong. She deserved a better life. One that took her weakness and threw it overboard.

But all she could think of was Chrollo. His big eyes that had been glued to the papers and his blank, yet handsome smile. He was a good-looking man. So was Illumi, with that silky smooth black hair that had flattered his slender body. Even Archihilles and those who had been by his side without a mask had possessed charm unlike what was usually found on the streets. The men who had dedicated themselves to a world of adventure were unique from the suit-wearing men in their offices. The world was visible in their faces.

Maybe even more than that.

Soleil ran both hands over her face. Philosophising about men was useless. So she picked herself up again to look in the wardrobe for some simple clothes.

She had to dance. Had to do her job because she would never make ends meet if they fired her. She didn't know how long Illumi would take, and she knew even less what to do after that. So she slipped into a thick, fluffy jumper and a simple pair of jeans that clung tightly to her legs. With a scarf and a thick jacket, she braced herself against the cold.

A glance at the clock showed seven. She still had three hours before they would push her onto the dance floor, but at the club, she could eat and drink for free. It was a small security and the cheapest alternative, even if the food was only served until twelve and consisted mostly of stale trifles and after that only alcohol could be found – except for water taps.

So Soleil took the most important things and put them in a small handbag before leaving her flat and making the much too cold way to the club.

People were in a good mood. Most were boozing away their salaries, some were hooking up with women, others with men. Well-groomed ladies were looking for a quick lay in cheap hotel rooms. A few others were drowning their sorrows in alcohol just to find a new partner. It was wild. Colourful. A little unhinged, considering what the city looked like by day.

Soleil's eyes were glued to everything and nothing. There were endless people, and yet she was alone. Her footsteps echoed in the side paths and no one stopped her, spoke to her or gave her more than a quick glance. The wind gently stroked through her black hair, but the cold was turning her ears a noticeable red. She had buried her nose in her scarf and her steps quickened when she caught sight of the club sign where she worked.

The bouncers let her pass without question and by the time she had reached the other girls at the latest, a homely atmosphere was spreading.

"Well, well, well. I was already thinking you'd discovered the meaning of life." Laughing, Hell spread her arms to hug her tightly. Soleil gave in to the brief unison before giving Heaven and Dragon a nod.

"And here I thought I'd have to pay one less girl." The sigh behind her made her whirl around, only to meet Crona's punishing gaze. "I'm not going to ask, and I don't care. But disappear again for a while and you're fired. Besides, I don't want to hear any complaints when your fans have shrunk. I can't say most of them were pleased to see you missing."

She knew that. The regulars and the money they gave her kept her going because the wages at this club were too low for the rents in this town. But that was all right. In those seconds, it was okay. It wouldn't be like this forever. She had invested her money well. Half a million wouldn't have lasted the rest of her life, she knew that. It would have paid the rent in this place for two years, food included. The banks didn't give out interest. The world had become stingy. There was only this one way.

Without further ado, she nodded before sitting down on a chair next to Hell and gesturing to one guard she wanted something to eat. As a dancer, she was served, so no greedy fingers touched something that didn't belong to them. Her boss disappeared outside the girls' private area and while Heaven and Dragon went over the final touches before they would dance, Hell asked her questions.

"So, the old biddy may not be itching, but I'm burning to know where you've been."

She couldn't tell the truth. It would have been too absurd. But at least a small part of it seemed within the realm of possibility. "I was with a client. He wanted me to dance privately for him and I did."

"I hope he paid you handsomely for it!"

"Enough for two rents." Another little lie, at which she raised her brows and let her fingertips tap together.

"Not bad!" Clapping her hands in acknowledgement, Hell chuckled. "By the way, I've taken your funny advice to heart ... that is, what I want to do when I'm no longer young and beautiful, which could be soon."

Soleil's brow furrowed as she was served fries and sauce. Enough energy to get halfway through the evening.

"I've been thinking about what I'm good at and what I can create with my money. On top, a bit of help from the internet. Got in touch with someone and met up with him. Handsome guy, I can tell you that." Hell shrugged. "He asked me what I'd like to do and I suggested that I'd certainly fit in as a shop assistant in some pretty boutique. He wanted some information about people I know – nothing wild. And ... what can I say? He gave me an address to apply to, and I was accepted. In three weeks, I'll be working in the warehouse of a big fashion chain because I'm good at lifting." She scratched the back of her head indecisively. "And I think I've met someone."

"Does this someone already know what you do?" It was endless information, but talking about potential flirtations held the most charm.

Hell nodded slowly. "Told her. She thought it was okay because ... you have to make money somehow. But she's glad I'm getting out. She's my supervisor ... so I actually have hope that this is something for the rest of my time."

"That sounds great!" The ease of the conversation made Soleil breathe more freely before she, too, found a bit of courage. "To be honest, I'm going too."

"Really? Now please don't tell me you've fallen for your private guy there like one of those bad Horriwood romances."

"No," with a smile, she waved it off. "I'm ... going home. My mother died and I ... will inherit her things. When I get settled ... maybe I'll learn something."

"That sounds decent." The smirk on Hell's lips infected Soleil.

Hell was the coast in the steady waves. She was the only one who saw things a little too loosely and yet saw the entire picture. She had realised that the pole held no future, and she had turned her life in a different direction. That also meant that they would soon no longer see each other.

And Soleil would probably miss her.