Chapter 5
Half an hour later, the Maybach crept through the narrow, grimy alleys, its undercarriage scraping against the uneven pavement. Even the streetlights were broken here.
"Stop right there. Go any further, and you'll total your car," Colette said, patting the driver's seat before hopping out the moment the car stopped.
Marcel got out, frowning. Before he could reach the rundown apartment building, a racket erupted from inside with dogs barking and cats yowling.
Next came the sound of dishes smashing as they were thrown out the window, followed by a raspy, duck-like yell. "Think you're tough, huh? I'm done with this dump. Get out, and take your filthy animals with you!"
Colette dashed into the building, and Marcel's eyes narrowed as he followed her.
The third-floor hallway was a complete mess. Cat and dog food were scattered everywhere, and a group of shivering stray cats huddled in a corner.
A yellow dog missing a leg stood at the doorway, snarling nonstop at the large, thick-headed middle-aged man in front of it.
"Coco," Colette called out to the dog, the very first dog she ever rescued.
The man gripped a metal rod, ready to strike Coco's head. "Stupid mutt, still barking? Tonight, you're dead!"
"I dare you to touch Coco!" Colette yelled, lunging at him and kicking him hard.
With a loud thud, the 200-pound man crashed into the greasy wall, the rod clattering to the floor.
"Help! She's killing me," the landlord screamed, clutching his stomach and rolling on the ground like a slaughtered pig.
Colette ignored him, crouched down, and gently stroked Coco's head.
Coco whimpered softly, pressing against her hand.
As the other cats and dogs saw Colette return, they scurried out from hiding, meowing and barking nonstop. This was Colette's big furry family.
Marcel lingered in the stairwell, taking it all in. He had expected a confrontation with one man but was instead met by a group of battered, sickly strays.
The same woman who had threatened him with a stick against his chest moments ago was now calm and gentle.
The landlord finally got up, pointing at Colette and shouting, "You actually hit me? If you don't pay 2 or 3 thousand for my medical bills, this isn't over.
"And the rent goes up to one thousand a month. Take it or leave it. Don't like it? Get lost with your smelly mutts and scruffy cats!"
Colette stood up, her eyes icy. "I paid six months' rent last month. The contract says 500 a month, clear as day," she said coldly. "Now you're raising it again?"
The landlord said, "Contract? That paper is worth less than toilet paper to me. A dozen people are lining up for this place. Your filthy animals stink up the hallway. Neighbors have complained for ages.
"Either pay or get lost. Otherwise, I'll call the dog catchers tomorrow."
Colette was living under the radar. If things escalated and the authorities showed up, she'd be exposed. What was more, this place was the only home to these dozen or so strays.
Back in the day, this fat jerk would have been in serious trouble. But now, Colette took a deep breath, her jaw clenched. "One thousand, fine. You got it."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few wrinkled bills. The money she had scraped together from her account and the Food Truck Gatherings barely covered one month's rent. After that, she wasn't sure she could still pay the bills.
"One thousand? That was a minute ago," the landlord sneered, seeing her relent. "Now it's 1,500, and you owe 6 thousand for my medical bills. Can't pay? Maybe you can work it off in my bed."
Before he could continue, a slender hand appeared, holding a black card with two fingers, giving it a casual flick. "How much for the whole building?" Marcel asked, his voice calm and detached.
The landlord froze, glancing at Marcel. 'This man looks like he is pretending to be a big shot, but in a dump like this, who would believe him?'
He said, "Well, where did this pretty boy come from? Talking big, huh? You think you can buy the whole building? Do you even know what it's worth? This place is—"
"Laith," Marcel interrupted, not wasting another second on his nonsense.
Laith stepped forward, pulled out his phone, dialed, spoke briefly, and then handed it to the landlord on speaker.
"Hey, I'm the chief of this district office," a voice said from the phone.
The landlord's expression shifted from smug to confused, and then outright terrified.
*****
Two minutes later, the landlord was practically groveling. His hands trembled as he handed over the contract. His chubby cheeks wobbled with each forced grin.
"Oh, Mr. Larsen, sorry I didn't recognize you. The whole building is all yours now. I've already signed everything. Let me know when you want to move in," he said.
Laith took the contract with a cold expression, transferred the money, and said, "Get lost."
"Okay, right away!" The landlord bolted, stumbling and crawling, leaving the metal rod behind without a second thought.
Colette had mixed feelings about all this.
Marcel stepped over the scattered cat food, clearly disgusted, and approached Colette.
"So, this is your big family," he said, glancing down at the battered, broken animals. "A bunch of dead weight."
"Shut up," Colette snapped.
Marcel looked at her, and that strange feeling bubbled up again with amusement and maybe a hint of jealousy.
"Alright, family," Marcel said with a nod, sounding casual. "Now this place is my territory. Your crew is on my turf."
"And then?" Colette shot back.
"I'm not charging you rent. In fact, I could knock this whole place down and build a luxury pet center with air conditioning, food, and staff to take care of everything," Marcel said.
'It sounds almost too good to be true,' Colette thought. 'No way this is free, especially with someone like Marcel, who's all about business.' She asked, "What's the catch?"
"Smart," Marcel said, stepping closer. "Come with me to the city hall and get married."
Colette frowned. "I told you. I'm not going to sleep with you."
"I'm not asking you to do that," Marcel replied slowly, meeting her gaze. "Be Mrs. Larsen on paper. Live however you want outside, but when you're with the Larsen family, act like my wife and help me keep the old folks off my back.
"In return, you get cash, power, and a comfortable home for your so-called family."
Marcel reached out and lightly hooked a strand of Colette's hair. "Right now, you've got nowhere else to go. The Larsen family might be a wolf den, but it's the best protection you'll get. So, are you in or out?"
Colette went silent. 'He's right. My enemy has already arrived in Linsiton. Instead of running and hiding, I might as well hide in plain sight. Being the wife of the young heir of the Larsen family would make that person think twice before trying anything.'
"Deal," Colette said, brushing his hand aside. "But let me make myself clear. First, I'm not here to be some rich family's punching bag. If anyone messes with me, I won't hesitate to fight back.
"Second, this is strictly business. Don't expect me to act like your wife or fulfill any wifely duties. Even if you strip down and lie in bed, all I'll do is toss a blanket over you.
"Third," she said, pointing at the cats and dogs behind her, "get someone to take proper care of them."
Marcel couldn't help but chuckle, both annoyed and entertained. 'Seriously? Strip down and lie in bed? What's going on in this woman's head?' he thought. Seeing her all claws and attitude, yet still forced to compromise, gave him an odd sense of amusement.
"Alright," Marcel said, adjusting his tie and heading downstairs. "Grab your paperwork. We're doing this tomorrow."
Colette rolled her eyes and went to grab her beat-up bag in her room.
Coco seemed to sense something was off and clung to her pant leg, refusing to let go.
Colette crouched down, giving Coco's head a firm rub. She whispered, "Don't worry. I'm not walking into a death trap. I'm going to cash in on the rich folks. When I make it big as a fancy lady, you'll be eating beef every day."
She stood up, slung her canvas bag, which was stuffed with needles and a dagger, over her shoulder, and strode out of the rundown apartment building she'd lived in for three years.