Chapter 17: Double Lives and Dead Ends
At exactly one o'clock, a nervous knock sounded at the Miller door. Vanessa stood on the porch, dressed deceptively innocent in a pastel sweater and pleated skirt, but her eyes darted anxiously.
Iris opened the door, her expression immediately wary. "Vanessa. Again?" She didn't move aside, blocking the threshold with her body.
"Hi, Iris," Vanessa chirped, her smile stretched a little too tight. "Look, I know this is a huge favor, but I might need Elijah's muscle again. You know, to help me with some... heavy stuff from the mall. He was such a help last time, and yes, I will pay him again."
Iris crossed her arms. "The mall? Last time it was moving some big furniture in your room, and now the mall? Anyways, Elijah is grounded, Vanessa. My mother explicitly forbade him from leaving the house, and unlike her, I'm not letting him sneak out."
Vanessa's smile faltered. "But—"
"No," Iris cut in, already stepping back to close the door. "Whatever scam you're pulling him into, it can wait. And for Christ's sake, aren't you like 25? You really need a 16-year-old's help lifting boxes?"
Vanessa's hand shot out, catching the doorframe. Her lips twitched with annoyance before she smoothed her expression into something softer. "Iris, please. It's just groceries—heavy ones. And if you must know, I'm quite the frail type..."
"Who is it, Iris?" Elijah called from the top of the stairs, already descending, dressed in his dark clothes.
Vanessa's gaze snapped to him, relief flickering across her face, but Iris stepped slightly forward, blocking Vanessa's view of Elijah. "Sorry, no can do. You'll have to hire someone."
Vanessa's fake composure fractured slightly. "Could you call Elara, then? Maybe I can explain to her that this is really important, and she could allow it, I can't move these myself—"
"No," Iris said flatly. "I'm not calling Mom to argue about your shopping trip." She started closing the door, but Elijah's hand shot out, stopping it just before it hit Vanessa's foot. His fingers curled over Iris's wrist—not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to make her flinch.
"Didn't Mom teach you to treat your neighbors with respect?" Elijah murmured, his gaze locked onto Iris's, oozing cruelty. Iris yanked her arm back, glaring at him with both weariness and irritation.
"Are you trying to break my wrist now?" Iris hissed, rubbing the spot where his fingers had been. "And don't you dare try to sneak out—Mom was clear." She shot a hateful look at Vanessa, practically screaming at her to leave.
It was then that Akari emerged from the hallway, dressed in fresh clothes, looking nervous but composed. Elijah's eyes instantly lit up, flashing a brilliant, fake grin at Iris.
"Wait, I have an idea," Elijah announced. "If you don't trust Vanessa, Iris, Akari can come with us. She's your new sister, right? She can be your eyes, report back if I step out of line."
Iris scowled, her gaze flicking between Vanessa's eager face and Elijah's smug one. She hated the idea of Elijah twisting Akari into his schemes—especially after everything the girl had endured. "Akari has better things to do than babysit your bullshit," Iris snapped, stepping fully into the doorway now, blocking Elijah's path.
Eli frowned, the nuisance was making things difficult now, ain't she? He exhaled sharply through his nose and leaned in but a voice made them halt.
"Actually, that's not a bad idea," Akari said quietly, surprising both Elijah and Iris. "I could use the chance to look around town. I haven't had time to explore since I arrived in this town." Iris blinked, momentarily thrown by this unexpected display of defiance.
But finding a way to keep his older sister dignity knowing with how things are going Eli would probably try to ruin that with his tongue and his actions she held on to it.
Iris glared at Elijah, her fingers tightening around the doorframe. "Fine," she gritted out, "but if you're not back by 4 PM—with Akari—I'm calling Mom. And Elijah, you take care of her. I have to leave to collect the homework from Mr. Markov."
"Deal," Elijah said smoothly, stepping past Iris before she could reconsider. He shot Akari a sidelong glance—half approval, half predatory amusement—as she shuffled forward. Vanessa effusively thanked Iris, and the three headed out, leaving a frustrated Iris looking at their backs with undisguised suspicion.
They reached Vanessa's home a short walk away. Akari, trying to stick to her role, finally spoke up. "So, what are we buying at the mall? I can help carry bags."
Vanessa chuckled nervously, fumbling with her keys as they walked towards her main door. "Oh, uh, nothing!" She glanced at Elijah, who smirked. "I just..."
Elijah stopped, turning to face Akari. His expression was cold, dropping the charming facade he used with his sister and mother. "You're going to follow Vanessa to her home. Wait for me there."
"Wait, what—" Akari started. "Where are you going? And what about the mall?"
Elijah's frown deepened into a scowl. "Don't be noisy, Akari. It's none of your business. You just do what you're told and follow Vanessa. Understand?" He gripped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze—his thumb pressing just hard enough against her jawbone to leave an imprint. "Behave." Akari swallowed hard, but nodded once.
"Now follow Vanessa to her home, and you wait, I will be back," Elijah ordered Akari sharply, already turning away as Vanessa unlocked her door. Akari hesitated, her eyes darting between Elijah's retreating back and Vanessa's nervous smile—something wasn't right. She nodded silently and followed Vanessa inside, the heavy door clicking shut.
—————
We find Yuri and Zigi perched on a side bench at a busy walkway junction, near their parked, battered taxi. Zigi, true to form, whistled loudly as a girl in a short dress passed by. "Damn. Look at that, Yuri. Perfection. With this kind of ass, you can even forget that your wife cooks like shit, if you got one that is." He slapped the bench, gleeful.
Yuri snickered, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head. "Why bother? They never respond to you, and they probably have boyfriends anyway. And besides, aren't you just 16? What's the rush?"
Zigi scoffed. "Don't care. Point is, I got eyes. Unlike you. And how would you know. Besides, if they had one, it doesn't matter. They aren't married. I'd still shoot my shot. Unlike you, just sitting there like some old man—" His taunt died mid-sentence as Elijah's silhouette emerged from the crowd, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
Yuri shook his head slowly. "Because you're lazy. Why would you want someone else's leftovers when you could put in the work and get a fresh one? Someone else already trained her—probably ruined her too—"
Zigi frowned, genuinely annoyed. "Ruined leftovers? What the hell does that mean, Yuri? You're being judgy! As long as a girl is hot, I don't care about the history. Who cares if she's been fucked before, that's called adventurous?" He crossed his arms, scowling.
"That's the problem, Zigi," Yuri muttered, rubbing his temples. "You let your lower half think for you. Not every female is good to fuck, especially after someone else has already fucked them."
"Why approach someone's girlfriend just because she's hot?" He spat on the pavement, disgusted. "At least wait until she's single. You're the type of male that makes the whole relationship thing seem like a joke."
"And you're a 17 year old virgin," Zigi shot back.
"I'm selective," Yuri growled back.
Elijah reached them just as Zigi was puffing up for another retort. "Enough," he cut in, voice flat. "Cut the nonsense and focus on the plan."
Yuri nodded sharply. "Got it, Boss." He patted his waist, confirming the presence of the black pistol Vasquez had gifted them. "Guns are secured."
But Zigi groaned, throwing his hands up. "What did he mean by 'ruined' and my type make relationships a joke, Eli? I swear he's talking nonsense—like some old man lecturing about 'purity'. Who cares if she's got miles on her?" He jabbed a thumb toward a passing college girl in torn fishnets. "Look at that! That's prime grade-A."
The girl seemed to have heard Zigi's crude appraisal—her eyes flashed with irritation, then fear as she took in the trio's rough appearance. She hurried past, clutching her bag tighter. Elijah ignored her, rubbing his temples.
Yuri snickered, "Grade A? That's nothing but a human with some squishy fat. You like cheap meat, Zigi. That's your problem." He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. "But fine, waste your time barking at scraps. Elijah, what's the move?"
"Bastard! What are you calling scraps and treating like goods? Your mom is the cheap meat if you have one that is!" Zigi hissed, but Yuri just turned and walked away, clicking his tongue dismissively. Elijah watched the tension between them with detached amusement before he also followed with a frustrated Zigi hot on his heels.
They headed down the street leaving the taxi with Yuri leading them efficiently toward the first address on the collection list—a restaurant Yuri had scouted the day before.
The target was a small Italian restaurant named Giovanni's. Vasquez had warned them the owner was stubborn. They entered through the rear delivery door, which Yuri expertly picked in under ten seconds. The pungent smell of oregano and frying oil hit them instantly.
Zigi shoved a kitchen porter aside before Yuri quickly locked the door.
"What the—" the cook yelled in Greek, dropping a tray of tomatoes.
"Stay quiet," Yuri ordered in Greek, pulling his hood lower. Eli raised an eyebrow—he hadn't known Yuri spoke the language—but didn't comment as Zigi shoved the cook into a stack of flour sacks. The man groaned, flour puffing up around him like filthy snow. Elijah strode past both of them, straight toward the office at the back.
Elijah entered and found the owner, a heavy-set man named Giovanni, relaxed in his leather chair, counting a thick stack of cash while his phone lay discarded on the desk—mid-argument with his wife, judging by the tinny screeching from the speaker.
The moment Giovanni spotted Elijah, he frowned instantly, recognizing none of the three youths. "Who the hell are you? This is a private office."
Elijah didn't waste time. "We're here on behalf of Vasquez to collect the protection fee."
Giovanni's face hardened, his frown deepening. "Vasquez? Never heard of him. Now get out of my restaurant before I call the police." He immediately went hostile, slamming the cash down on the table. "You kids got the wrong place. Get out!"
Elijah grinned deviously. "You see, Giovanni, that's exactly what Vasquez warned us you'd say. And that's a bad idea, old man. A very bad idea." Behind him, Yuri slid the pistol from his waistband, the click of the safety flicking off unnervingly loud in the cramped office. Giovanni's eyes darted between them, sweat beading along his receding hairline as Zigi sauntered over with a butcher knife from the kitchen.