Chapter 39: Back to the Gilded Cage
The roar of the black Eurocopter helicopter, marked with a gold V on its tail, shattered the night’s silence on the rooftop of Mansion Valois in Paris. Fierce winds from the spinning rotor lashed through the landing pad, knocking over rows of expensive ornamental plants and flinging flower petals into the air.
The cabin door swung open even before the skids touched down completely.
Xavier jumped out. The plain black shirt he had taken from Frans’s bag was now wrinkled and dusty. His face was rigid, jaw clenched tight as he fought back panic.
In his arms, Agatha hung limp. Her face was no longer pale but gray. The heat of her body seeped through Xavier’s T-shirt.
“Move!” Xavier shouted. His voice was swallowed by the helicopter’s engine, but the killing aura around him sent the medical staff scrambling toward him at once.
At the threshold of the bulletproof glass doors, Melynda Valois stood frozen. Her burgundy silk robe whipped wildly in the rotor wind. The moment she heard her son had returned, she ran forward.
“My God…” Melynda hissed when she saw fresh blood seeping through the thick jacket wrapped around Agatha. “What happened to my daughter-in-law?!”
“Mother! Don’t block the way!” Xavier snapped as he refused to place Agatha on the gurney and chose instead to carry her himself into the mansion. “She needs treatment now!”
Melynda did not answer the shout. Her legs wavered for a moment. She hurried after her son, her steps unsteady with panic.
“Dion! Call Dr. Pierre now! Don’t let the interns touch her!” Melynda shouted at the head butler, her voice trembling at the end of the sentence. “And prepare alcohol… for me! I’m about to faint!”
“Call a female doctor,” Xavier said when he heard his mother’s order.
Melynda rolled her eyes. “Stop that possessive nonsense. This is not the time for your jealousy, Xavier.”
Xavier ground his teeth but finally relented. He allowed Dr. Pierre and his team to take over once they reached the medical room. Agatha’s life mattered more than his ego.
Frans was the last to exit the helicopter, dragging Petrov along. The man was bound and limp. Frans looked exhausted, dark circles hanging under his eyes.
“Take that trash to the basement, Frans,” Melynda ordered without turning around as she continued her hurried steps after Xavier. “And make sure his filthy blood doesn’t drip onto my favorite carpet!”
The Master Bedroom, One Hour Later
The atmosphere inside the master bedroom was silent and oppressive, broken only by the steady beep of the heart monitor set up in haste. The sharp smell of antiseptic overpowered the expensive aroma of Melynda’s scented candles.
Agatha lay amid a pile of silk pillows. Her eyes were tightly shut, her breathing shallow and uneven. Cold sweat kept forming on her forehead. The burst water pipe at the old motel the night before had turned out to be fatal. The dirty water had seeped into her wound, triggering a severe infection in the not yet healed injury on her back.
Melynda sat on the edge of the bed, her once perfectly manicured hands now busy pressing a wet cloth to Agatha’s forehead. Her usual arrogance had faded, replaced by deep worry.
“Look at her, Xavier,” Melynda whispered hoarsely as she wrung out the compress with rough hands. “Her body is burning like a furnace. You said you were protecting her? You took her into a lion’s cage and let her get bitten?”
Xavier stood in the dark corner of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. His eyes never left his wife’s face.
“She jumped into that lion’s cage herself, Mother. She’s stubborn,” Xavier replied quietly.
“And you’re her husband! You should have tied her to a chair if you had to!” Melynda snapped. Her hands trembled as she smoothed the damp strands of hair from Agatha’s face. “She just started calling me ‘Mother’ sincerely… don’t let her die foolishly because of your oversized ego.”
“She won’t die,” Xavier said coldly, though his fists were clenched inside his pockets until his knuckles turned white. “She’s survived hell worse than a simple fever.”
The bedroom door opened softly. Frans entered with a haggard expression, holding a tablet. He had just finished dealing with Petrov in the underground cell.
“Xav,” Frans called quietly, afraid of provoking the two lions in the room.
Xavier motioned with his eyes for Frans to speak outside, but Melynda cut in sharply.
“Speak here, Fransisco! I have the right to know why my daughter-in-law almost became a corpse!” Melynda ordered without turning around.
Frans swallowed hard and glanced at Xavier, who nodded in resignation.
“The situation is bad, Madam. Petrov… he’s useless,” Frans reported heavily. “We hit his nerve points, but he truly doesn’t know Luigi’s location. He’s just a pawn thrown away to lure us.”
Frans shifted the tablet screen, showing empty data graphs.
“And Luigi…” Frans let out a rough breath. “…he’s erased himself from the face of the earth. Bank accounts, property assets, satellite signals, everything is blocked. We’re completely blind. Our agents can’t find a single active signal in Italy under Luigi’s name.”
“Blind?” Melynda stood and threw the compress into the water basin with a sharp splash. Water splattered onto her silk gown, but she did not care.
“You are Valois! You have spy networks on five continents! And you’re telling me you’re blind when tracking down one decrepit old Italian man?!” Melynda shouted in frustration.
“He’s not just a decrepit old man, Mother. He’s Volskey,” Xavier cut in as he walked closer to Frans to look at the tablet. “He knows how our systems work because he helped build them. He’s hiding in a rat hole that can’t be traced.”
“Excuses!” Melynda scoffed. She paced back and forth, tapping her folding fan against her palm in a rapid rhythm. “If you can’t find him, I will. Sometimes rumors travel faster than your spies!”
“Ergh…”
A weak groan from the bed stopped the argument instantly.
Xavier moved at once, dropping to his knees beside the bed. “Darling? Can you hear me?”
Agatha slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred and spinning. The ceiling felt like it was swaying like waves.
“Luigi…” Agatha murmured, her voice hoarse and barely there, like a ghost’s whisper.
“Ssh. Save your strength. We’ll talk later,” Xavier said as he clasped Agatha’s hand, which burned with fever. “You’re safe at home now.”
“No…” Agatha tightened her grip on Xavier’s hand with what little strength she had left, her nails digging into his skin. Her eyes darted wildly, caught between consciousness and fevered delusion.
“He… he erased his tracks… not because he’s afraid of me, Xav…”
Agatha tried to draw a breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“He’s afraid… of the Judge…”
Agatha’s body tensed, then convulsed faintly before going limp again as she lost consciousness, collapsing into the grip of her raging fever. The heart monitor sped up, signaling her body’s desperate fight against the infection.
“Dion!” Melynda screamed in panic, tears finally spilling from the corners of her sharp eyes. “Call Pierre again! Her temperature is rising! Hurry, you idiot!”
Xavier froze. Agatha’s last words echoed in his ears. The Judge.
He looked at Frans. “Cardios.”
“What?” Frans asked, confused.
“Agatha is right. Luigi isn’t hiding from us. He’s hiding from his own father, Cardios Volskey,” Xavier said as he slowly stood. The worry vanished from his face, replaced by a cold, calculating expression.
“If we can’t find Luigi… then we’ll lure the one person Luigi fears most into finding him for us.”
“You mean…” Melynda stared at her son, wiping her tears roughly. “You want to invite that decrepit old grandfather into this party?”
“More than that, Mother,” Xavier said as he looked out the window toward the lights of Paris. “I’ll give him an invitation he can’t refuse.”
Xavier turned to Frans.
“Prepare Petrov. Clean him up, feed him, and make sure he stays alive. We won’t torture him anymore.”
“Huh? Why?” Frans gaped.
“Because Petrov is no longer a prisoner,” Xavier said with a thin, chilling smile. “He’s a gift package we’re going to deliver to Cardios Volskey’s front door.”