25 CH-25: Enter The Cat

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The grandeur of the historic place unfolded before me, its breathtaking beauty captivating my senses.

Fox, exuding an air of confidence and prosperity, accompanied me. His chest puffed up with pride, he clutched a sleek, fashionable cane in his hand, a sleek silver fox head was adorned in its top as a symbolic representation of his criminal moniker.

The place pulsed with life as elegantly dressed individuals adorned in sleek formal attire filled its grand halls.

Gorgeous women in chic, form-fitting dresses and men exuding charm in their tailored tuxedos created a vibrant spectacle.

Conversations floated through the air, wordlessly exchanged between intriguing figures, while glasses clinked, and the soft hum of laughter reverberated throughout the British museum.

This particular evening witnessed a vivacious ambiance, lending an air of sophistication and excitement to the prestigious venue.

Fox and I found a secluded corner away from the dazzling spotlight of the grand themed party.

His gaze fixated on a middle-aged man engaged in conversation with a group of women on an elegant couch.

"You see that guy over there?" Fox whispered, his eyes lingering on the man.

"Yeah." I replied eagerly, awaiting his next words.

"That's Tyler Stone, Vice President of Alchemax." Fox explained, taking a sip from a passing waiter's tray. "He's a renowned art collector, fashion enthusiast, and a narcissistic elitist. Guys like him are perfect marks for a con job."

"Is he our target?" I asked, a grin spreading across my face.

"Not quite. We're here for reconnaissance." Fox clarified, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Events like these are where art collectors come to flaunt their secret treasures and hidden artifacts."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to the London Museum of Collected History." The museum manager's voice boomed over the microphone, capturing everyone's attention. The room fell silent as he continued, "I thank each and every one of you for joining us tonight for this special Halloween event. To mark the occasion, we have prepared a gallery that will delight your senses. Please, enjoy."

With a wave of his hand, the manager signaled for the curtain to be raised, revealing a Halloween-themed gallery within the museum.

Fox and I discreetly joined the crowd, making our way inside the mesmerizing, monster-themed exhibition.

"Let's take a look." Fox whispered, and we subtly followed the flow of people into the gallery.

"The famous leather paintings of Egypt from 275 BC." The guide announced, captivating the crowd's attention as they gazed at the life-sized pyramid painting depicting Egyptian gods.

"Come this way." Fox gestured, leading me to an empty hallway, away from the bustling crowd.

"Where are we headed?" I inquired, adjusting the snug suit I was wearing.

"The Victorian gallery." Fox replied, guiding me toward the far end of the museum.

The Victorian section was a treasure trove, adorned with armored knights, ornate swords, fragile books, and colonial artifacts. My eyes widened with awe and a sense of adventure, feeling a bit like Indiana Jones in that moment.

"Wow, this place is incredible." I exclaimed, marveling at the various ancient jewels displayed before me.

"Absolutely." Fox agreed, his gaze fixated on a Chinese calligraphy poster. I joined him, admiring the elegant black ink strokes.

"What does it say?" I asked, studying the curvaceous designs.

"It's a poem about time." Fox replied with a smile. "'Flowers may bloom another summer, but a warrior never regains his youth.'"

"So, in simpler terms, 'life is short'?" I summarized.

"Figuratively, yes." Fox nodded, guiding us away from the weapons section and toward the display of precious gems.

"I visited this museum last with my wife." He suddenly shared, leaning against a glass case that held a bronze anklet.

"Your wife?" I asked, surprised by this revelation. He had never mentioned his family before.

"Yeah." He confirmed, moving away and leading me deeper into the gallery.

"Okay." I replied, my mind whirling with questions, unsure of where to begin.

Eventually, we arrived at a dimly lit section of the museum, with only a few lights illuminating the area. Most of the artifacts were covered, except for one at the far end of a long corridor.

Fox stood before the passage, his gaze fixed on a violet diamond next to a golden pharaoh cane.

"What's that?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"That's the object I've been eyeing for years." Fox shrugged. "It's called the Pharaoh's Star, once owned by Tutankhamun. Given to him by his father on his last breath, it holds immeasurable value, rumored to rival England's crown jewels."

"But why haven't you stolen it?" I inquired, puzzled.

"Because the moment it moves even a hair's breadth, MI6 will shut down this entire city within five minutes." He explained, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"You've got to be kidding me." I rolled my eyes in disbelief.

"I wish I were. It's like an unscratchable itch on the back of my head, knowing I can never possess it." He growled, adjusting his suit and striding back toward the party.

I sighed, lingering in the darkness, my gaze fixed on the Pharaoh's Star before reluctantly following Fox's lead back to the event. By then, people were already leaving, and we decided to blend in with the departing crowd, making our way out of the museum.

We soon made our way to the parking lot and climbed into Fox's Bentley. This guy had a Bentley stashed away in every country, it seemed.

Fox sat in the driver's seat while I took the shotgun. There was an awkward silence hanging in the air as Fox hesitated to start the car.

I couldn't help but feel uneasy, especially after he brought up his family, something he had never done in the three months I trained under him.

"I can't help it, what happened to your wife?" I finally broke the silence, hoping to break the tension as well.

"What happens when things go wrong on this side of the world." He sighed, his gaze fixed on the star-filled London night sky as he fought back tears.

"She..." I trailed off, unsure of how to phrase my question delicately. But sensing my intent, he revealed the truth without hesitation.

"She died, yes." He nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, causing it to squeak.

"It was just another night, a job in Madripoor. She was my backup. It was supposed to be simple, but I wasn't as cautious as I should have been. I led a group of mercenaries right to our doorstep. They opened fire, and she took the bullets for me. I had to carry her lifeless body, riddled with bullets, with her last words still echoing in my ears. And after that, I was permanently banned from entering Madripoor." He explained, the pain evident in his voice.

I took a deep breath, leaning back against the seat, his story evoking a mix of sympathy and sadness within me.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice filled with a hint of strain.

He chuckled, finally starting the ignition. It was the same twisted chuckle he gave whenever he planned to push me during our grueling training sessions, sending shivers down my spine.

"What the hell did you do?" I asked again, this time with a touch of wariness.

"Let's just say I caused chaos equivalent to a combination of 9/11 and Pearl Harbor." Fox replied with a devilish smirk, twirling his mustache with pride.

"Well, damn." I whistled jokingly, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I was born into wealth, kiddo. By the time I turned 18, I had experienced almost everything this world had to offer. Theft became one of my passions, giving me a sense of thrill, the chase, the heist—it was euphoria." Fox chuckled, seemingly lost in memories of his early days as a thief.

"She had the option to live a normal life, but she chose to be with me. She stepped into my world, fully aware of the risks and expecting nothing but my love. And I failed her. Maybe that's why I take people under my wing, those with potential, and mold them into the greatest thieves to ever exist. I want to give them a chance to live the life I lost." He confessed.

His gaze slowly turned towards me, and I met his eyes with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

"You're bound to make enemies, kiddo. That's just how this world works. You can never fully outrun them, but when you encounter them, you need to make a statement, make them understand they can't mess with you." He advised.

I nodded slowly, absorbing his words and understanding their weight.

Suddenly, his phone rang, breaking us out of our conversation. Thank goodness for the interruption—I wasn't quite accustomed to such emotionally charged discussions.

Fox furrowed his brow as he picked up the call and answered, "Hello."

"She did what now?!" A moment later, he slammed his hand against the window, his voice booming through the phone, startling me.

"You've got to be kidding me! When?" He roared again, but gradually his anger subsided, and he sighed.

"I'm not letting my goddaughter sleep in a prison cell." He said, trying to calm himself down.

"I'm in London. You know what? Get her passport and meet me at the airport, and do not, under any circumstances, call her mother. Fine!" He growled, ending the call.

I was on the edge of my seat, bewildered by the furious reaction, as I had never seen Fox so angry before.

"What happened?" I poked at the still-fuming Fox, but as he turned towards me, he seemed slightly calmer.

"Change of plans. We're getting a new resident in the mansion." He announced, punching the gas as the engine roared to life and the car sped out of the museum.

"I'm not sure how I feel about this." I admitted, gripping the seat for dear life as he skillfully navigated through the busy London traffic.

"Trust me, neither am I. But let's give it a shot." He smirked, drifting around a corner.

I had worried that this might turn into another Paris situation, but fortunately, it seemed that the police in England were less motivated to chase after a Bentley. Within moments, we found ourselves in front of the London police headquarters.

"They're here?" I sarcastically remarked.

"Yes." He nodded with a peculiar smile.

"Well..." I trailed off, my eyes caught by a McDonald's in a corner.

[Chocolate and chicken wings]

"I'm going to get some chicken wings and chocolate while you bail out whoever this is."

He raised an eyebrow, watching as I began to walk towards the fast-food joint.

"Chicken and chocolate? That's like the worst combo ever." He muttered.

I turned around and smirked, continuing to walk backward.

"Says the guy who eats fish and chips every damn morning."

"Fish and chips are the perfect breakfast!" Fox refuted, sounding almost offended.

"You know, your ancestors invaded entire nations in search of spices, but when they left, it seems they took the treasure and left their taste buds behind." I smirked, doing a T-pose of sheer dominance to convey my point.

And it worked. It left him stumped, unable to come up with a retort. He simply shook his head and walked into the police station.

Inside the shop, I ordered my chicken wings with a chocolate dip, earning a range of strange looks—some confused, some sympathetic, and a few that regarded me as if I were completely unhinged.

I couldn't help but smile in response, relishing in their bewildered expressions.

'All of this is because of you.'

[When you borrowed our powers to kill people, it came in handy. Now you have to pay the price, Eddy.]

"Fuck it." I muttered, snatching the package of wings from the waiter's hand as soon as it emerged, and I walked out of the building.

Leaning against the car, I opened the package and began devouring the wings. Just as I took the first bite, I saw Fox stepping out of the police station, followed by a young girl.

She appeared to be around my age, exuding an air of maturity that belied her age. Her striking feature, white hair, cascaded down her shoulders, contrasting beautifully against her youthful complexion.

As she stepped out into the nightlight, her presence commanded attention. She had an ethereal quality, like a porcelain doll brought to life.

The girl's face carried a mix of determination and resilience, her bright eyes holding a glimmer of wisdom beyond her years.

She was definitely a few inches taller than me, and I blamed her choice of attire. The sleeveless white top and long pants made her appear even taller than she actually was.

"I can't believe you!" Fox shouted as he threw his jacket over the car's hood.

"I was just trying to make some money. It's the only way I knew." She snapped back while I crunched on the chicken, watching their argument with interest.

"If your father was here, do you think he would be proud to see you like this?" Fox yelled directly in her face. "To see you spend your life in a prison?!"

"But he's not here, is he?!" She yelled back even louder, tears streaming down her face. Ah, this isn't fun anymore.

*Crunch!*

Their attention turned towards me as I inadvertently crunched through the bone. Awkwardly, I waved at them, caught in the act. Fox sighed, rolling his eyes, while the girl scrutinized me with a curious gaze.

"Who is he?" She asked, pointing at me.

"Ethan Brown." Fox called out my fake name, motioning towards her in return.

"Meet Francesca Fernandez."