Neon is the Colour of Vengeance (Flappers and False Gods)

GENEVIEVE

Guilt festered uncomfortably in Genevieve’s stomach as she made her way into Borden Tower. She loved Hugo, but she had waited far too long for revenge.

No one paid her any mind as she ascended to the penthouse. They thought she was an ally. They were wrong. When the elevator doors opened, Genevieve was greeted by more mobsters than she knew they had. They lined the hallway that led to Samuel’s office, they lounged on chairs in the open plan living area and yet the silence was so complete she could hear their hearts beating.

“You’re all scared,” she said to no one in particular. “You should be.”

“Fuck you. You aren’t even one of us, not really.” The man who had spoken was bald and Black, with a silver earring shaped like a cross dangling from one ear. Genevieve couldn’t remember his name. “You shouldn’t even be here. We can’t trust you.”

“Samuel asked for me, but I guess he doesn’t tell the flunkies his plans.”

The man got to his feet and advanced on Genevieve.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself,” she said, turning her back on him disinterestedly.

“You don’t walk away from me.” He grabbed her arm, but before he could do any more, she had twisted out of his grip and brought her other hand to his throat.

“Sit down before I hurt you.”

“That’s enough,” Samuel called from the door of his office.

Genevieve patted the man on the top of the head then let go of his neck to follow Samuel.

“Bobby’s dead,” Samuel said, closing the door behind them. “They found what was left of them on the street outside their building. Hugo threw them off the roof. His best friend.”

“I heard.”

“You aren’t surprised.” Samuel’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Sure I am, I’m surprised any of you lasted this long.”

“We’ll find him, and when we do, his death will not be quick.”

“Unless he finds you first. You’re a sitting duck here. You need a safehouse.”

“I’m surrounded by my men.”

“If you thought that was enough you wouldn’t have called me.” Geniveive dropped into the chair opposite the desk.

Samuel nodded curtly. “What do you have in mind?”

“Find a goon who looks like you and stick him in a ten thousand credit suit—then be anywhere else.”

“A decoy. That’s interesting.”

“I thought you’d approve. I have a safe house, off the grid. We can hold up there because we both know that none of the wannabe mobsters out there are a match for Hugo.”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Don’t I always? The family comes first.” She looked him dead in the eyes, allowing him to decide if he thought she was lying.

“That’s what I always liked about you. You’re young, but you’re old school. You understand how the underworld really works.”

“So does Hugo, and that’s your problem. He’s just doing what you taught him.”

“I’m almost proud.”

Samuel seemed relaxed as they sat in the back of a private Jonk. The sheer arrogance of the man. Genevieve couldn’t imagine the kind of hubris that would allow someone to think they were safe in the presence of a person whose life they had destroyed. It made what she was doing so much easier.

“Your safehouse is a church?” Samuel asked, impressed as they stepped out onto the street.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Genevieve led him inside. The nave had been converted into a dance floor, with tables, chairs and booths where the pews used to be. The altar had been transformed into a bar. It was an amazing space but what made it spectacular were the stained-glass windows. The purples, blues and greens cast and almost underwater glow over the club.

Samuel whistled his appreciation. “This is yours?”

“Nectar has been doing good business. You’re the one who taught me the importance of having an empire.”

“Hugo doesn’t know?”

“In another world before all this happened, I was going to surprise him.”

Genevieve ushered him over to the bar. She slipped behind it and pulled out a glass.

“Drink?”

“I’ll take an Old Fashioned, barkeep.” Samuel dropped down onto a high-backed leather barstool.

“You got it.”

Genevieve made the cocktail with speed and expertise, placing it on the counter in front of Samuel a moment later.

“What are you calling the place?” He took a long draught and smacked his lips appreciatively. “That’s damn good, kid. No wonder you’re raking it in.”

“Hassan.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s what the club is called: ‘Hassan’.”

That was the first chord that finally resonated. Samuel stiffened. “A lovely tribute.”

“You have no idea where we are, do you?”

“Should I?” He waved and airy hand around the place and took another swig.

“I guess not.” She swallowed with difficulty. “This is where Bobby tortured Hassan to death on your orders.”

“You stepped out of line.” His response was immediate. Practiced. “It was my prerogative to put you back in your place.”

“You told them he was a traitor. That he was selling secrets to the Kellys. I could almost have understood killing him, but you wanted him to suffer—why?”

“It wasn’t just your loyalties I was testing…I wanted to see just how good a soldier Bobby was. They passed. You didn’t.” Samuel raised his glass as if toasting her.

“And yet here I stand.”

“You’re a rare talent and you’re practical. You aren’t a burn the world type. Not like Hugo.” He finished the drink and placed the upturned glass on the counter. Genevieve smiled.

“What I was, was weak. I was still that frightened little girl too afraid to step out of daddy’s shadow. I didn’t think I could survive without you, even after you killed him.”

“And now you’re flourishing. You should thank me.”

“I’m grateful to you. You showed me what it is to rule the underworld, and I learned a lot. Did you know I’ve been poaching your contacts, your foot soldiers, your runners, your peddlers? Just one, here and there, but I’ve got quite the operation of my own going. You see, I fostered loyalty in a slightly different way from you. I can trust my people, because we all have something in common: we hate you. You ruled with punishment and spilled blood. There isn’t a person beneath you that you haven’t wronged and when Hugo destroys you, I’ll take your place. I will own Tenebrium, but don’t worry, I’ll take down the Kellys too. Your legacy will be eclipsed by mine, and I will rise higher than you could ever dream of. Are you proud of me now, Daddy?”

Samuel swiped the glass from the counter, it shattered against the stone floor. “You’re still that lost little girl. Pathetic and playing in a world that’s far too big for you. You’re soft. You can’t see the big picture. You aren’t capable of making the hard decisions. I’ve wronged people—so-fucking-what? There is a reason we dwell in the darkness. It’s because what we do isn’t very nice. You’re mad because I killed your boo? Get over it. Move on. That’s the life we chose.”

“But I didn’t choose it. None of us did. You took vulnerable kids and you turned them into killers.”

“Would you rather I left you to starve on the streets?”

“I’d rather you were dead.”

Genevieve grabbed a rope from behind the counter. She vaulted it gently, landing beside Samuel.

“You’re never too old for a beating,” he snarled.

“Oh yeah?” She smiled widely. “Give it your best shot.”

Samuel stood and swayed slightly. He reached unsteadily for Genevieve who easily stepped out of his reach.

“What did you do to me?”

“I’d be very careful who you accept drinks from in future.”

“You drugged me? Still too scared to face me, huh?”

“It’s not me you need to worry about.”

Genevieve pushed him back onto a bar stool and began tying him to it. His protests were feeble as he slowly succumbed to the paralytic she had slipped into his drink.

“I’m just a delivery service while Hugo picks up Mariam.”

“Don’t you dare touch my wife!” His words were fierce but slurred.

“Get over it. It’s just good business, remember?”

“If anything happens to her…”

“Goodbye, Samuel.”

She turned and walked towards the door.

“Come back here! Genevieve! Mariam has nothing to do with this.”

“Neither did Hassan or Evan.”

He continued to shout as she stepped back out onto the street, but his words were drowned out by the pounding rain.