It wasn’t until later that Vera discovered stepping out with the car was a bad idea. The streets of District One were flooded with its residents, who had stepped out in large numbers for the Festival of Souls.

Not even the soldiers preaching isolation and evacuation were in sight. They were no match for the number of people out tonight.

"Get the fuck out of the way!" cursed the mercenary serving as her driver for this journey. He hooted relentlessly for the nth time, his patience dangerously reaching its limit.

But no amount of hooting could clear a path in a sea of excited people.

In the backseat, Vera sighed heavily. She asked, "How long would it take us to get there if we walked on foot?"

"Fifteen minutes," he said. "An extra five, tops."

Vera looked out at the crowd of ignorant humans—faces painted in bright colors, strange outfits draped over their bodies, screaming, shouting, drinking, and dancing in wild exhilaration. It wasn’t until a few of them began banging on the windows, laughing and making faces, reveling in their freedom, that Vera decided enough was enough.

"Find a safe place and park," she ordered.

It took them almost five minutes to inch through the crowd without hitting anyone—although they came close a few times—and finally find a relatively safe spot to park.

But one thing was certain, if the crowd continued at this rate, they would have to trek back to their residence after the deal was done.

"We should be grateful if the car parts are still here when we get back," the second guard snorted in amusement.

Car theft was common in District One, and in a ceremonial environment like this, there would be a whole lot of thieving happening tonight.

Except Vera did not appreciate the dark joke, and the glare she shot him was enough to shut him up.

Every trace of laughter vanished from his face, and he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "Excuse me, ma."

"The suitcase," she demanded, stretching her hand out for it.

Trying to find her way through this crowd, they were bound to get separated, and Vera was not trusting the Ignis with any of them. Just because she had hired them didn’t mean she trusted them. The only thing holding them together was the terms of their contract, and the money involved.

The moment the suitcase was handed over to her, she began to push forward, roughly shoving anyone who got in her way. Her men knew the location and would find her there if they got separated.

Of course, holding a suitcase in a crowd like this was bound to attract attention from pickpockets. But Vera had expected that and stayed on high alert.

The instant the unsuspecting teenager bumped into her and, in one smooth motion, tried to slip her phone from her pocket, all he got in return was the suitcase slammed hard into his face.

"You little piece of vermin!" she snapped, kicking him in the stomach.

Gasps rippled through the nearby crowd as attention briefly shifted toward the scene.

However, no one interfered. Pickpockets were everywhere, and Vera was far from the first victim tonight. Still, some were unsettled by the sheer violence of her response, and as she moved forward again, the crowd instinctively parted, giving her a wide berth.

Music blasted from everywhere, the noise swelling around her until it felt almost suffocating. If this was how these people honored their ancestors’ sacrifices, they had to be joking. No wonder the festival held no appeal for her.

Call her old-fashioned, but the ancestors’ efforts in the Great War deserved solemn commemoration with trembling awe and profound honor. The history should be recounted endlessly to the young, reminding them why they should never yield to the wolves.

The celebration should mean more than drinking and dancing. District One was one of the few districts unsullied by the wolves, and it should stay that way.

The further Vera went, the thicker the crowd became. Her eyes moved constantly, scanning, watching and calculating. No one here mattered, they were nothing but distractions.

A group of brightly dressed dancers spun past her, nearly knocking her off balance. One of them laughed, reaching out to grab her arm, trying to pull her into their circle. Vera yanked free with a look that could kill.

"Don’t touch me." She hissed.

The girl only laughed, already lost in the madness of the night as she disappeared back into the crowd.

Vera muttered something under her breath, still moving. Nothing was going to deter her from her mission tonight.

It wasn’t long before she found the pub where she was to meet up with Williams.

Though it sat amid the festival’s roar, not a single reveler lingered nearby. For good reason.

Williams’ men guarded the entrance, armed and vigilant. Locals knew better than to wander too close.

Vera’s lips curved to the side. Finally.

She adjusted her posture, straightening just a fraction as she approached them. It annoyed her that her so called guards were not here but Vera was confident of her skills.

One of the guards stepped forward, blocking her path.

"Unless you’re one of the partygoers, get lost. Otherwise, state your business, woman."

Vera met his glare. "I’m expected. Tell your boss Vera Turner is here, and watch your tone if you know what’s good for you."

His eyes flicked to the suitcase, then back to her face, narrowing at her bite.

"Wait here," he grunted, shooting his partner a sharp glance: Keep an eye on her.

While the first guard was gone, it was at that exact moment her two escorts appeared, and the second guard immediately aimed his gun, ready to strike.

"They’re with me," Vera said at once.

But the guard didn’t care. He ordered, "Drop your weapons."

Vera’s men didn’t react at first, but she tilted her head to the side and told them, "Give up your weapons."

The two men hesitated, exchanging a brief glance, before finally dropping their weapons to the ground.

The guard approached cautiously, then kicked the guns aside, keeping his weapon trained on them.

It was at that moment the first guard who had stepped out returned, his brows furrowing in confusion at the scene.

His partner explained, "She didn’t come alone."

The first guard turned to her. "They cannot go in with you."

"Fine," Vera said. "But you’ll have to give them their weapons back if that’s the case."

"No, that cannot—"

"I’m going in alone. I’m already trusting my life in your hands. Or you can tell Williams to kiss this deal goodbye."

Silence stretched for a moment too long.

Then the guard ordered, "Give them their weapons."

To Vera, he said, "You may go in."

Vera walked past him without a word. There were other guards inside, and they fell in step behind her as she walked in.

They marched her into the heart of the local pub, and there he was.

Williams sat at the bar like he owned the night. He didn’t rise to meet her. Instead, he said casually, "Vera Turner...."

His gaze raked over her from head to toe and back up again, lingering for a moment on her chest before meeting her face, a sleazy grin spreading across his lips.

"You look quite lovelier than I expected, my lady," he complimented.

It didn’t impress Vera at all.

She knew men like him. The kind who thought women had no place leading in this business. Who thought with what was between their legs more than their brains. She already had a feeling this deal was not going to work out.

Vera put on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Williams," she said lightly, stopping a few meters from where he stood.

"Oh no, that’s not how we do things here," Williams tutted, finally rising to his feet. "Over here, it’s all hugs, my lady."

Shoot her now.

Vera gritted her teeth. If she didn’t need the bastard, she would have gladly taught him a lesson. Still, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them, intending to keep it brief.

But Williams pulled her in tighter than necessary, his hold firm enough to make breaking away difficult. Worse, his hand slid down to cup her backside while he leaned in, breathing her in as he murmured, "I believe our meeting tonight was written in the stars."

Your death will be too.

The words burned at the tip of Vera’s tongue, but she forced them down. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Men like Williams disgusted her, but they were also predictable. And that made them easy to use.

Good for her.

With that same smile that didn’t touch her eyes, Vera slowly trailed her hand over his wrist, the one holding her, and peeled it away from her body.

Then she looked up at him, her expression softening just enough to sell the act.

"I trust you’re ready to make history, Williams," she said, her tone smooth as silk.

"Oh, I’m more than ready."