Chapter 42

  ? Nobles and Commoners ?

  The three children inside the warehouse took cover behind a a row of containers after the two rifle shots. Alex and Casper both held Emily and ducked.

  Alex wiped the blood off his cheek. Blood that wasn’t his, but the Veracci henchman's who had dropped lifeless in front of him earlier.

  The boy still struggled to process what he’d just seen. The shot had arrived before the sound of the rifle could be heard. A new kind of horror.

  The fear wasn’t as sharp as it once had been. His stomach still lurched, but his legs no longer froze. Corpses were becoming less alien to him — almost familiar. Giovanni and Robert had been the first to bloody his world, and now this…

  But with them, guns had gone off at arm’s length inside the bar — messy, human, loud. But these men never even saw it coming. The one before him hadn’t even lived long enough to hear the crack of the rifle that killed him.

  The other was a little less unlucky — the bullet tore through his eye, but at least he’d had a heartbeat to duck and react at the first shot.

  Casper was still gasping and trembling at the sight. In his arms, Emily stirred, slow and groggy, as if surfacing from a dream. Her eyes blinked open, unfocused — until the blood filled her sight. In an instant, all drowsiness was gone. Her gaze sharpened in horror.

  Alex dropped to her side, tugging at the knots. “Hey! Snap out of it! Help me free her, then we leave!”

  Casper, still panicked and panting, needed a moment before the words sank in. His trembling fingers finally tore away the tape from his sister’s mouth.

  Emily stayed still in his arms. No screams, no sound at all. She froze, lips quivering.

  Alex had seen this kind of silence before — panic so sharp it stole the voice. His father had let him tag along on consultations, and he remembered the children who froze rather than screamed. And that kind of reaction can be worse.

  He shifted, blocking her view of the corpses. “Emily, right? Look at me.”

  Her eyes flicked to his, wide and wet. The face she found wasn’t cruel, not the face of someone who meant harm. She latched onto it, trembling.

  “Don’t look over there,” Alex said softly. “You’re safe now, do you hear me? Safe.”

  She gave the smallest nod, stiff, her mouth quivering.

  “Take a breath with me — in… out.”

  She followed, shaky at first, then steadier.

  “Good. That’s right.” He smiled at her, warm but firm. “Keep your eyes here. That’s it.”

  Emily bit her lip hard, then—after a long, taut pause—gave a fragile nod. Alex let out a quiet breath, relief washing over him. Even Casper eased, trembling less as he held his sister and clung to Alex’s steady tone.

  That fragile calm shattered when footsteps pounded closer.

  “Alex!”

  He spun toward the sound, relief flashing as he saw Dante in the doorway. But the smile faded almost instantly. If Dante was here, and two men just died, Alex knew what kind of “help” he had brought. Casper and Emily looked at Dante, suspicion flickering across their faces.

  Alex held up a hand. “Don’t worry. This is my friend, Dante.”

  Dante stepped past the two corpses as if they were nothing more than muddy puddles, careful not to touch them. “Hello there.”

  Emily whispered, “H-Hello.” barely audible.

  Casper stayed silent, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes — the timing of Dante’s arrival felt just a little too perfect.

  Dante held up his hands. “No one in sight outside. You're all safe, alright?”

  Casper’s gaze sharpened. “Did you… shoot these men?”

  Dante laughed. “Me? A kid? Of course not, pal. I was just looking for my friend here. No idea who did—”

  A sudden crack.

  “—This?” Dante’s eyes went wide.

  A rifle shot slammed right next to Dante’s foot. The boy flung himself behind a container across from the children.

  Casper and Emily screamed in unison, ducking again instinctively, while Alex gritted his teeth, taking cover as well, body taut.

  Another shot hit the wall, ricocheting with a deafening echo.

  Dante peeked cautiously, forcing a grin despite his racing heart. "Damn it, Vince," he thought. "That you mean by 'I got your backs' ? Could’ve warned me."

  Outside, Vince was the one still firing. Not to kill, just to reinforce the illusion — that whoever had taken out the Veracci men is no ally of Alex or Dante. "My bad, Dante," Vince thought. "If I told you, you’d be too jumpy and nervous and might blow the play. But you're smart enough to pick it up."

  He squeezed off a third shot, the bullet sparking harmlessly against the warehouse wall. The echo rolled through the empty street, then faded into silence. Vince waited a few seconds.

  "That should be enough. Coppers could be on the way after all the gunshots. The rest is up to you boys."

  A few seconds passed.

  Alex glanced and caught a subtle thumbs-up and calm expression from Dante. His suspicions were confirmed — the shooter outside was none other than the man with the terrifying eyesight: Vince.

  A sick feeling churned in Alex’s stomach. Shooting right next to Dante, letting the twins tremble for a “play” he didn't fully understand yet… and above all, the Veracci henchman’s words echoed in his mind: “We’re not heartless—we won’t kill you. You’re my son’s age.”

  Somewhere in the city, one child had just been orphaned of his father.

  Dante called out, his voice loud and confident. “Hey! Looks like this evil assassin ran away or something! He’s not shooting anymore!”

  Casper stammered, “W-We don’t know that!”

  Dante stepped further out from behind his container, cautiously, faking his steps with fear and hesitation. Finally he was in plain sight across from Alex and the twins.

  “Dante!” Alex hissed, panic and suspicion mixing. He couldn’t yet read Vince’s plan, but refused to trust him with Dante’s life.

  Yet indeed, no shots came.

  “See?” Dante said, brushing it off. “All is fine. Let’s get out of here — before someone else shows up… or the evil assassin comes back.”

  The twins hesitated, still wary.

  Dante tilted his head, sighed, then danced toward the warehouse entrance in a ridiculous, exaggerated way, swaying his hips and kicking his legs. Emily’s confusion softened into a small, uncertain smile — the silly sight easing her tension. Casper frowned, suspicion sharpening at Dante’s overconfidence.

  “Come on! Shoot me here!” Dante shouted mockingly.

  Nothing.

  “Alright. Let’s go. All of you.”

  Alex finally stood, followed by the twins. Together with Dante, all four moved cautiously as they exited the warehouse, wary and tense. Their footsteps echoed briefly before fading into the night.

  The warehouses and construction sites faded away from the children's vision.

  At last, Emily broke. She sank against her brother’s chest, her sobs rising like a storm held back too long.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Casper…” she gasped, voice trembling, barely audible. “I thought we were dead…”

  Casper wrapped his arms around her, voice shaking. “Don’t worry. W-We’re okay now.”

  Alex stood nearby, heart heavy. He had not only seen enough — but also heard enough stray words from their captors — to know that something deeper was at play. "Negotiations..." the words he heard earlier from the henchmen echoed in his racing mind.

  Without warning, Emily flung herself toward Alex, startling him, and wrapped her arms around his middle, sobbing into his coat.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you. Thank you…”

  Alex held her gently. “Don’t mention it, Emily.”

  Dante’s eyes flicked toward Casper, cautious. “How did you end up kidnapped?”

  Emily gasped into Alex’s coat, and Casper stiffened, memories surfacing like jagged glass. Alex noticed it. “Let’s not talk about that now. We’ll get you home first, alright?”

  Dante’s tone hardened, almost interrogative. “Fair. Where do you two rich twins live?”

  Casper hesitated. “The nobles’ sector… we don’t know the way. We’ve never been here.”

  Dante raised an eyebrow, half-joking. “If we take you there, can you recognize your little castle?”

  Casper nodded, though his gaze remained cautious of Dante. The latter realized the joke had landed differently than he’d expected: the boy really lived in a castle.

  Alex intervened, lips pressed. “We can take you to a police station. It's closer.”

  Dante opened his mouth, about to give Alex a look — the expression that said, we shouldn’t involve the coppers — but Casper beat him to it, shouting:

  “No! Not the police! The ones who kidnapped us dressed themselves as officers! I don't trust them!”

  Alex nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll take you ourselves. Dante, can you lead the way? I’ve never been in the nobles’ sector either.”

  “Sure, buddy,” Dante said, taking point.

  He walked ahead, eyes scanning. The streets were late and eerily empty, each corner a potential threat. Emily clung to Casper’s arm, walking just behind Dante. Alex trailed at the rear, alert and analytical, every horror of the night still vivid in his mind, ensuring nothing slipped past them.

  ?─??●??─?

  Two hours passed. Dawn was approaching, casting a pale wash over the rooftops as Alex, Dante, and the twins navigated the city. They had skirted the dangerous slum alleys, making a wide detour, and avoided most of the few coppers’ checkpoints. Dante’s intimate knowledge of the alleys and hidden passages guided them, each step careful, each shadow observed.

  Finally, they emerged into the nobles’ sector. The contrast was stark. The streets were broad and clean, paved evenly, lined with lanterns that gleamed faintly in the early light. Not one homeless figure sprawled in the corners, not a broken bottle to reflect the moonlight, not a shadow hiding some desperate threat. Windows glimmered behind polished gates, a hush of civility reigning over the cobblestones. The air smelled faintly of baked bread and dust-free stone, a quiet order that made Alex exhale softly.

  Emily, too tired to keep up her guard, leaned against the polished stone of a noble street. Fear had eased now that she was in a familiar place. Dante’s antics earlier helped her regain a little composure and Alex’s steadiness had pulled her out of the worst of her shock, but exhaustion still weighed heavy on her small frame. Casper didn’t look much better—eyes hollow, steps dragging.

  Alex, watching from the rear, called out, “Dante. Let’s rest a little. We’re clear now... I'm too tired as well.”

  Dante, leading, turned with a weary sigh. “Ugh, I needed a rest as well… we crossed half the damn city.”

  The twins stopped without protest and sank onto the spotless sidewalk. Alex smiled down at them. “My name is Alex. This is my friend, Dante.”

  Dante winked with his usual mischief.

  “Casper,” the noble boy muttered, avoiding eye contact. Emily, in contrast, lifted her gaze to their rescuers. Shy, but determined, she spoke with fragile grace: “I’m Emily… Emily Algraves… I truly… can’t express my gratitude enough…”

  Dante swept into a dramatic bow. “Our pleasure, Lady Emily.”

  That earned him a small, tired smile.

  Alex added gently, “We’ll be right back.” as he started to walk away, glancing at Dante to follow him.

  Emily’s face flickered with worry. “I’m sorry… Did I not thank you properly?”

  Alex shook his head quickly. “No, not at all. I just wanted to give you two some space. And I need a word with Dante if you don't mind.”

  Casper waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, please.” His tone carried the casual arrogance of someone used to ordering servants. Dante’s eyes sharpened, lips curling into a grin too wide—half-snarling, half-delighted, shoulders twitching with restrained energy.

  Alex cut him off, shoving him a few yards away before he exploded. The twins, left behind on the curb, immediately leaned into each other. Emily clutched her brother’s sleeve, her voice low and shaky as she whispered questions, while Casper held her close, muttering reassurances he didn’t fully believe. Their words circled back to the kidnapping — the blindfold, the crates, the fear — as if speaking of it to each other made it less real.

  Away from them, Dante muttered, “What’s that little punk’s deal? I don’t like him at all.”

  “Dante.” Alex ignored the complaint, his tone flat.

  Dante’s expression softened. He offered a small, genuine smile. “I’m just glad you’re alright, buddy.”

  Alex’s reply came like a stone. “When I asked you to bring help… I meant the police. Not Vince. Not Dominick.”

  Dante blinked, then rolled his eyes. “Ah… I see. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re safe.”

  “Two men died tonight, Dante. One of them had a family.”

  “To hell with them and their families.” Dante’s voice was sharp, casual in its cruelty. “If they kidnapped children our age, I wouldn't care less.”

  That was it.

  Alex’s body moved before thought could catch him. His hand flew out, seizing Dante by the collar with a violence that startled them both. For an instant his eyes flickered—not with rage, but with fear. His heart hammered, yet his grip was steady, unyielding. He remembered the rooftop—that vow he had sworn to himself in the dark. He would not watch Dante slip back into that shadowed path. Not a step.

  “Take it back,” he breathed.

  Dante froze, the grin sliding from his face as though wiped clean. “Alex? What’s the matter with you?”

  Alex’s fingers curled tighter in the cloth, dragging his friend close.

  “Don’t fall back on me, Dante,” he whispered, the tremor in his voice betraying more dread than anger. “By your words, someone could say the same of us. To hell with Alex and Dante. They run errands for criminals—let them rot.”

  "It's not the same, buddy! We're... different!"

  “Were you really that different a few months ago?”

  The words struck sharper than the grip. Dante’s eyes widened, his tongue caught still.

  Alex pressed on, voice low and hard. “Two families will hold funerals tomorrow. Can you stand before them and repeat what you just said? Can you look a boy in the eye—the boy who lost his father—and tell him, ‘to hell with you and your dad’?”

  Dante flinched, jaw tightening. “But… what were we supposed to do? They were about to hurt you.”

  “And that’s why I told you to bring policemen,” Alex snapped, “not that psychopath, Vince. They could have handled it better.”

  Dante faltered, gaze sliding past Alex toward the twins. They sat a little distance away, oblivious, their small shoulders pressed close together. His throat worked. “You’re right,” he muttered. “Maybe I should have brought coppers instead. Because they’d care so much more for children like these.” His mouth twisted. “If it were you or me, they wouldn’t lift a finger."

  "You remember the plaza," Dante continued. "the Wolves, Noor—how long we bled before one half-decent copper stepped in? But if it were these two…” He gave a bitter laugh. “The constables would march a whole battalion down here before a scratch touched their skin.”

  Alex’s eyes did not soften. “They were to be executed. The twins. Perhaps tomorrow.”

  The color drained from Dante’s face. “What?”

  “I heard the Veracci men say it.” Alex’s grip slackened, though he did not let go. “They were negotiating something with their parents. I don’t know what—but the price was their children’s lives... and maybe... they were willing to pay it.”

  Silence fell heavy between them.

  Alex spoke again, steady but trembling at the edges. “Can you imagine? Their own parents turned them away. Whatever the Veraccis asked, it was not worth sparing their son and daughter.” He gave Dante a small shake, as if pulling him back from a cliff. “We’re all children, Dante. No one is better than the other. These two aren’t to blame for where they were born. Don’t make enemies of them for it...”

  Dante lowered his gaze. Guilt flickered there, faint but real.

  “I know you’re angry, and so am I,” Alex went on. “At the city. At the corruption. But don’t speak like that of the dead... or of the families who’ll be grieving tomorrow.”

  Dante’s lips pressed thin. “Easier said than done.”

  Alex’s grip gentled, sliding to his shoulders. “Why did you stop stealing, Dante?”

  The boy hesitated, voice halting. “To… live honest. To stop hurting people.”

  “Then I beg you... Always remember that,” Alex said softly. “Always.”

  For a moment Dante said nothing. He only stared, lost, then gave the faintest nod. His body sagged, and he let his head fall against Alex’s shoulder, his arms hanging loose. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered.

  Alex’s hand rose to the back of his head, pressing him close. “Nothing. You’re with me. That’s enough.”

  The words lingered between them, sinking into the stillness of the street. At that hour, the noble quarter lay in silence—no footsteps, no wagons, not even the bark of a stray dog. The quiet only sharpened the weight of what had just passed between them.

  Emily’s fingers clutched at her skirt, her lips parted as if she wished to speak but dared not. Casper had gone rigid beside her, suspicion carved deep into his young face. Whatever had just passed between the two boys unsettled him, sharpened his doubt.

  At last Emily gathered herself. She rose, hesitant but compelled by concern, and took a few cautious steps closer. Her voice wavered, soft as a breath.

  “I-I beg your pardon… is everything all right here? Might I offer my help?”

  Both boys turned. Their faces, grave and lined with the weight of what had just passed between them, did not look like those of children. For a moment, Emily faltered, frightened by the gravity in their eyes. She backed up a step, bumping into her brother.

  Casper caught her by the shoulders, his gaze sharp. “Who are you two?”

  Alex took a steadying breath and forced a small smile. “We made introductions earlier. Did you forget?”

  “No. I meant—who really are you?”

  Dante shrugged, casual but alert. “We’re nobodies, pal. Come on, let’s get you home.”

  “I’m not moving till I know who you work for.”

  The air changed. Both Alex and Dante tensed, alert. The boy was no fool—suspicious in a way his sister was not.

  “Casper!” Emily’s voice rose, pleading. “That’s rude! They saved us!”

  Casper’s eyes narrowed. “Right. Two worthless commoners notice us in the hidden containers and decide to be heroes? Whispering behind our backs? You’re leading us into a setup, aren’t you?”

  Dante’s fists curled instinctively. “Watch your tone, or I’ll march you back to the bastards who took you.”

  Emily flinched. “No! Please don’t!”

  Dante’s expression softened immediately when he saw her. His fists loosened, grin returning, eyes calm. "Not you, Emily."

  Alex stepped forward, holding out his palms. The dark smears of blood from the wagon’s iron crossbeam were clear. Casper noticed. Emily gasped, covering her mouth with her small hands.

  “I went through all that to get you out, Casper… so don’t be rude to me or my friend again.”

  The words worthless commoners had struck deep. Alex was risking not only himself, not only Dante, but perhaps even Dominick’s wrath later—for choosing mercy over orders. He would not be spoken down to.

  Casper froze, caught between fear and respect. After a long moment, he muttered, “L-Let’s keep going. I know the way from here.”

  Emily’s steps were tentative as she edged closer to Alex. Her small hand hovered near her chest before she took a careful step back, lowering her gaze and inclining her head in a delicate, almost formal bow: a gesture of a young lady raised with etiquette. “I... apologize on his behalf,” she said softly, voice trembling slightly but clear, the words carrying the weight of sincerity and politeness.

  Alex’s smile softened. “Don’t worry about it, Emily.”

  “Twins… only in appearance,” Dante thought with a sly grin, watching the young noble girl’s careful bow and the way she held herself—polite, hesitant, yet with a quiet dignity.

  The three followed Casper’s lead as they resumed walking, unaware that the choice Alex had made tonight—one small act of courage, of guidance—might ripple far beyond this street, shaping the fate of the city in ways they could not yet imagine.

  ?─??●??─?