Chapter 3
Crescent Prime's reputation grew bigger and bigger, like a snowball rolling downhill.
I was making a ton of money.
But all of that was only a way for me to get by, nothing more than tools to keep myself safe and secure.
Right when Crescent Prime was doing better than ever, I got a letter from Sophia, sent all the way from the border.
Her handwriting was as wild and bold as always, the strokes almost tearing through the paper.
But underneath all that, I could feel her worry and confusion.
She asked why I would do something that might not look good for someone like me.
She wanted to know if someone had hurt me back home.
She even said that if I wasn't happy, she would quit her post right away and come back to Jelasburg to stay with me.
Reading her letter, I could almost see Sophia's striking, heroic face in front of me.
Out of the three Goodwin sisters, Sophia was the only one who truly cared about me.
She wasn't calculating like Victoria or cold and distant like our father.
Her care for me was warm and genuine, nothing else mixed in.
For a rare moment, my heart actually softened.
But it didn't last long. I hardened up again.
I picked up my brush and wrote only two lines on the paper. [Everyone has their own fate. Don't worry about me.]
Everyone had their own battle to fight.
Hers was at the border, and mine was right here in Jelasburg.
I couldn't drag her into my messy world, and I didn't want to either.
I sealed the letter and handed it to Shadow, telling him to send it off by the fastest route possible.
I had barely taken care of the letter when my second big-time customer showed up.
It was Maxwell Chandler, the wealthiest man in Jelasburg.
He was a big, round man with a permanent smile that made him look friendly and easy to do business with.
But this time, I could see a worry in his smile that he couldn't quite hide.
He was here to track someone down.
He wanted to find his firstborn son from his first marriage, the boy who had vanished fifteen years ago.
Back then, Maxwell's first wife died right after giving birth, and when the boy turned three, he disappeared without a trace. No one ever found out what happened to him, dead or alive.
Over the years, he remarried and had a few more sons, and his fortune kept growing. But the loss of his firstborn never stopped bothering him.
"Miss Goodwin, if you can help me find my son, I'll give you ten thousand gold coins," he said.
That was a generous offer, no question about it.
But I shook my head. "Mr. Chandler, the information from Crescent Prime isn't something you can measure with gold and silver coins."
He went quiet for a moment, caught off guard. "Then... what do you want?"
I held up three fingers. "I want priority partnership on thirty percent of your businesses."
Maxwell's face changed right away. "You're asking for an awful lot there.
"Priority partnership on thirty percent of my businesses is worth way more than ten thousand gold coins."
I smiled, calm and easy. "Tell me, Mr. Chandler, which is more important to you? That thirty percent, or your entire family legacy?"
Maxwell's eyes went wide with alarm. "What... what are you trying to say?"
I picked up my cup and blew on the coffee gently. "From what I've heard, Mr. Chandler, your health hasn't been great lately.
"That gentle and devoted wife of yours, along with those dutiful sons of yours, are all waiting for you to die so they can split up your fortune fair and square.
"They've already pushed you to the side, haven't they?
"Even if I don't take that thirty percent today, in less than six months, everything you have will belong to someone else."
Every word I said cut deep into Maxwell's weakest spot.
The color drained from his face, and sweat poured down his forehead in big drops.
He stared at me, his eyes wide with shock and fear.
It was as if he thought I could see right through him.
"How could you possibly know?" he whispered, his voice shaking.
I didn't bother answering. Instead, I sat there quietly and waited for him to make up his mind.
After a long while, he slumped in his chair like all the air had gone out of him.
"Fine. I agree," he said, his voice rough and broken.
I nodded, pleased with how things had gone.
"Shadow," I called out.
Shadow, who had been standing quietly behind me, handed me an envelope.
I slid the envelope across the table to Maxwell. "Your son is living in an abandoned church on the south side of the city with a bunch of homeless people.
"People call him Dummy. He's still wearing that pendant you put around his neck when he was a baby.
"If you don't get there soon, there's no telling what might happen to him."
Maxwell's hands trembled as he opened the envelope. When he saw the address and the drawing inside, his whole body shook, and tears streamed down his face.
He gave me a deep, grateful bow and then rushed out like a man possessed.
*****
That very night, a touching reunion took place at the old church on the south side of the city.
The next day, news spread across Jelasburg that the Chandler family had a new head.
Word had it that Maxwell had dealt with his current wife and other sons harshly, and they ended up in a bad way.
After that, Crescent Prime's reputation for knowing everything was set in stone.
No one dared compare it to an ordinary entertainment place ever again.
I stood by the window on the third floor and watched the crowds flow along Redbird Avenue, a cold smile curling at the corner of my mouth.
This game had only just begun.