The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 509

"I know," Lyra said, her voice perfectly even. "That's why I came to you."

Martin looked up and met her gaze. "Do you even know who he is?"

"He's part of the Astor family."

"You know that, and you're still here?" Martin tossed the photo onto the table and took another drag of his cigarette. "The Astors aren't people you want to cross."

Lyra watched him. "Are you scared?"

Martin smirked. The brief smile pulled at the jagged scar on his face, making him look both menacing and mocking. "Scared? In my line of work, fear isn't a factor. But the price goes up."

"Money isn't an issue."

Martin stared at her for a long time. "You've changed. The last time you came to see me, your hands were shaking. They're not shaking anymore."

Lyra glanced down at her hands. There was still a slight tremor, but it was much better than before. She curled her fingers into fists and looked back up at him. "I'm on a tight schedule. Are you taking the job or not?"

Martin crushed his cigarette against the tabletop, leaving a dark scorch mark in the wood. He picked up the photograph and studied it again.

"Three days."

"That works," Lyra said. "I'll come back in three days with the money."

Martin slipped the photo into his jacket pocket, eyeing her closely. "You're not afraid I'll take the money and run? Or finish the job and rat you out?"

Lyra held his stare. "You won't."

Martin raised an eyebrow. "So trusting?"

"We've worked together before." Her tone was entirely matter-of-fact. "Last time, you kept it incredibly clean. The money cleared, and you kept your mouth shut. It'll be exactly the same this time."

Martin studied her for a long moment. Then he smiled, a slightly more genuine expression than his earlier smirk.

"Alright. Three days, same time. You show up, and I'll give you the results."

Lyra nodded. "Do you need a deposit?"

Martin shook his head. "No. You paid in full last time; I remember that. You can pay when it's done."

Lyra said nothing else. She turned on her heel, opened the door, and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind her.

She heard the heavy deadbolt slide into place.

Standing in the hallway, she took a deep breath. The air was still foul, but she hardly noticed it anymore. She descended the stairs, her footsteps echoing sharply in the hollow stairwell. Every floor was completely dark, but she didn't bother using her phone's flashlight; she just dragged her hand along the grimy wall and took it one step at a time.

In the absolute darkness, she listened to the sound of her own breathing. It was light, and perfectly steady.

Stepping out of the building, the outside air felt marginally better, though the stench of rot still lingered.

She stood by the entrance and glanced up at the bleak gray structure. A faint sliver of light flickered briefly in the fourth-floor window before winking out completely.

She pulled her gaze away and started toward the main street.

The streetlights were still dim, and the stray dogs were still barking. She walked down the desolate avenue, the sharp clack of her heels cutting cleanly through the night air. The wind howled past, sweeping up loose trash and carrying a plastic bag through the air until it snagged on the branches of a dead tree.