⇚ 5 ⇛

❚ ❙ The Noodle Barn ❙ ❚

"You're joking."

I stood on the pavement staring up at the building in disbelief while rain misted softly across Shoreditch around us.

Victor looked between me and the sign above the pub with visible confusion.

"What?"

"Mon dieu..." I muttered. "It's hideous."

THE NOODLE BARN glowed above us in enormous yellow lettering using at least four different fonts like the designer had suffered a psychological break halfway through creating it.

The exterior did not match the rest of the street at all.

Every neighbouring storefront looked effortlessly cool - exposed brick, neon lights, expensive minimalism, carefully curated hipster aesthetic.

Then there was this monstrosity.

The pub looked like someone had aggressively decorated a fever dream.

I still wasn't sure whether I was more shocked by the sign itself or by the fact that despite deciding earlier I would absolutely never step foot inside after Donna handed me the business card in her taxi...

Here I was.

What a sick sense of humour fate had.

Victor frowned slightly beside me.

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being observant."

The pub doors suddenly burst open.

A drunken man stumbled out wearing what appeared to be a crop top and trousers simultaneously too large and too small for him. His backside was somehow visible despite the trousers hanging halfway down his legs.

I blinked slowly.

"We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz!" he sang loudly while waving a beer around with alarming confidence.

Then he danced.

Poorly.

Very poorly.

"You've got to be kidding me," I whispered.

"Archie!" Victor barked between laughter while hurrying toward him. "Give me the beer before you fall into traffic again."

Again?

That implied history.

I was horrified.

Archie ignored him completely the second he spotted me.

His eyes widened dramatically.

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "She's gorgeous."

He staggered toward me smelling strongly of beer, cigarettes, and terrible decisions.

"Look at the tattoos!" he shouted excitedly. "Victor, where'd you find her?"

"If you touch me," I said calmly, "I will break your fingers individually."

Archie looked delighted by that.

"Oh, she's terrifying too."

Thankfully Victor grabbed him by the hood of his crop top before he could continue approaching me.

"Archie," he warned, "she's not the one."

"She absolutely is the one." Archie pointed dramatically at me. "Will you marry me?"

"No," I replied instantly.

"Devastating."

"Archie, stop harassing strangers."

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "You just fancy her yourself."

Victor nearly dropped his beer.

Interesting.

Before I could analyze that reaction further, another voice cut through the street.

"Archie! Get inside before Dad kills you!"

A tall red-haired woman appeared in the doorway glaring murderously at him. She was all freckles, sharp cheekbones, and exhausted older-sister energy.

Then her eyes landed on me.

She paused.

"Oh," she said flatly.

Not friendly.

Wonderful.

"Victor," she sighed, "who's this?"

"No one," I replied immediately before turning to leave.

"Hey-"

Victor caught up quickly and stepped in front of me.

"Move."

"I didn't peg you as a quitter."

"I know when to retreat."

"Are you scared?"

I stared at him blankly.

"I'm not twelve. Reverse psychology doesn't work on me."

"You sure?"

"I am scared," I admitted dryly, "that if I stay here long enough, I'll eventually strangle everyone inside while they sleep."

Archie pointed at me excitedly.

"She's perfect."

Victor ignored him.

"Seventy-two hours," he said.

"What?"

"Stay seventy-two hours."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

"What exactly is your deal?"

"My deal?"

"You're trying far too hard to convince me to stay in this dump."

"That's not very nice."

The redhead muttered something deeply offended beneath her breath before disappearing back inside.

Good.

Someone sensible.

Victor shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

"If you stay seventy-two hours, I'll help however I can. Rent free."

"I don't need charity."

"It's not charity."

"Then what is it?"

He tilted his head slightly while studying me beneath those smudged glasses.

"You look like someone who hasn't had people around her in a very long time."

The words hit harder than they should have.

I immediately hated him for noticing.

"You don't know anything about me."

"No," he admitted. "But I know exhausted when I see it."

The street suddenly felt colder.

I looked away first.

Dangerous.

That was dangerous.

"Seventy-two hours," he repeated quietly. "If you hate it afterward, leave."

"You can't fix me."

Victor blinked.

Then something softer crossed his expression.

"Is that what people spend their time trying to do?" he asked. "Fix you?"

I folded my arms tightly.

"I don't need your pity."

"I don't pity you." He shrugged. "Honestly, you're a little frightening."

"Good."

"But I do think you need help."

"That's unfortunate."

Victor laughed softly beneath his breath.

The sound irritated me immensely.

"If I end up killing everyone inside," I warned, "that becomes legally your problem."

"That's the spirit."

Before I could change my mind again, he grabbed my suitcases and headed toward the entrance.

Unfortunately-

I followed him.

•••••

The inside of the Noodle Barn was somehow worse and better than expected simultaneously.

Warm light flooded the pub beneath hanging bottle chandeliers while music hummed softly through hidden speakers overhead. Plants crowded shelves and windowsills. Neon signs glowed against exposed brick walls while groups of people laughed around mismatched wooden tables covered in drinks, noodles, cards, and half-finished conversations.

It smelled like beer, soy sauce, perfume, fried food, and rain-soaked jackets.

Chaotic.

Loud.

Alive.

I hated how much I liked it immediately.

The pub quieted slightly when Victor walked in beside me carrying my luggage.

Wonderful.

Attention.

My favourite thing.

"Oi!" Archie shouted proudly from somewhere near the bar. "The scary French lady stayed!"

Several people turned toward me curiously.

I resisted the urge to leave immediately.

"The flats are upstairs," Victor explained while leading me through the pub. "The first floor's my office. Second through fifth are apartments."

An archway beside the bar revealed a reception area painted mustard yellow with narrow stairs twisting upward beneath another sign reading APARTMENTS.

At least the inside had personality.

Questionable personality.

But personality.

"Rent's due at the end of the month," Victor continued while handing me a set of keys attached to an obnoxiously bright yellow keychain. "Utilities included. Bar discount included if my dad likes you."

"And if he doesn't?"

"You'll know."

Comforting.

A short man carrying a tray full of empty glasses suddenly approached us.

The second he saw Victor, concern flooded his face.

"Is your grandmother alright?"

"She's fine," Victor reassured him. "She should be home soon."

Then he gestured toward me.

"Dad, this is-"

His eyes shifted toward mine knowingly.

Waiting.

Right.

Fake identity.

"Diamond," I replied smoothly.

The man smiled warmly.

"Diamond saved Grandma Kim."

Immediately, his entire face softened.

"Oh my goodness." He set the tray down quickly before shaking my hand with both of his. "Thank you, sweetheart. Truly."

His warmth caught me off guard slightly.

"No problem."

"I'm Xavier," he said proudly. "Victor's father."

That explained the shared exhausted eyes.

"Please excuse this circus," Xavier continued. "This place gets louder after midnight. Apparently alcohol encourages performance art."

"WE'RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD!" Archie screamed from across the pub.

Xavier closed his eyes briefly.

"Yes. Exactly."

Despite myself, a small smile tugged at my mouth.

Then another voice suddenly cut through the room.

"Diamond?"

My stomach dropped.

Donna stood near the bar holding a gin and tonic while staring at me suspiciously.

Ah.

Disaster.

"You were Camille in my cab."

The room quieted slightly again.

Victor's brows lifted immediately.

Interesting.

I recovered quickly.

"Diamond is my middle name."

Donna narrowed her eyes.

"That sounds fake."

"It's French."

"It absolutely is not."

Victor looked dangerously amused.

"Should I be concerned?"

"No," I said instantly.

"Yes," Donna said at the same time.

Wonderful.

"I use different names when travelling," I said smoothly before anyone could continue. "Privacy."

Donna stared another moment longer before shrugging dramatically.

"Fair enough. My cousin sells feet pictures online under the name Mercedes."

Victor nearly inhaled his own tongue trying not to laugh.

I hated London already.

"Anyway," Donna continued while pointing at me, "still rude. But pretty."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I accepted it as one."

Victor looked deeply entertained now.

Annoying man.

"Fergie!" Xavier called toward the bar. "Get Diamond a drink."

A tall goth-looking woman appeared wearing all black with silver piercings lining both ears and thick eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass.

She looked like she attended funerals recreationally.

"What can I get you?" she asked flatly.

"Red wine."

"Specific."

"Alcoholic."

For the first time all night, Fergie smiled slightly.

"I like her."

"Rare," Victor muttered.

As wine appeared in front of me moments later, a tiny child suddenly rammed into my leg.

I looked down.

Large brown eyes stared back at me beneath tiny braided pigtails.

"You beat up bad guys?"

Straight to the point.

Interesting child.

"I did."

"Cool."

"ALLISON," a woman nearby groaned. "Stop interrogating strangers."

"It's alright," I said automatically.

Disturbing.

I genuinely meant it.

Children usually exhausted me.

This one looked oddly shaped and adorable enough to survive.

The woman hurried over carrying a bowl of crisps.

"I'm Demi," she said warmly. "Sorry about her."

"Diamond."

Allison gasped dramatically.

"That's the coolest name ever."

No.

No it absolutely was not.

"You're very pretty," Allison informed me seriously.

"Thank you."

"And your accent sounds like cartoons."

I blinked.

"Cartoons?"

"Fancy cartoons," she clarified.

I stared at Victor.

"Do British children bully people naturally?"

"Usually by age four."

"Impressive."

Demi laughed softly.

"Why don't you join us?" she offered, gesturing toward the large table filled with drinks and people. "We're waiting for Granny Kim to get back."

I looked toward the crowded table immediately.

Too loud.
Too many people.
Too vulnerable.

"I'm alright here."

"She thinks she's too good for us," a voice muttered.

Amy.

Of course.

The redhead sat near the far end of the table glaring openly into her drink.

"Amy," Victor warned.

"What?" she snapped. "She called this place a dump."

"To be fair," Archie interrupted loudly, "it is a dump."

"Archie," Xavier sighed.

"What? It's our dump."

Several people laughed.

Amy didn't.

She looked directly at me now.

"You walk in here acting like everyone's beneath you."

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

The pub atmosphere shifted slightly.

Not hostile exactly.

Tense.

Interesting.

I took another sip of wine calmly.

"I simply prefer quieter environments."

"Right," Amy scoffed. "Because we're all too loud and embarrassing for the rich girl."

"Amy," Victor said firmly.

"No, seriously," she continued. "People around here actually care about each other. So forgive me if I'm suspicious of some mysterious woman showing up with fake names and enough baggage to start a war."

That silenced the room.

Victor's eyes sharpened slightly.

Smart girl.

Unfortunately.

I slowly set my wine glass down.

"You seem very emotionally invested in a stranger."

"You seem allergic to basic kindness."

Before I could answer, Victor stepped between us.

"That's enough."

Amy folded her arms.

"You brought her here."

"And?"

"And if she brings trouble here?"

The room quieted again.

Ah.

There it was.

Not jealousy.

Fear.

Protectiveness.

That made more sense.

I looked at Amy properly for the first time.

She wasn't cruel.

Just defensive.

Unfortunately, I understood that feeling too well.

"You don't need to worry," I said quietly.

Amy laughed once.

"That's exactly what worrying people say."

Fair.

Victor rubbed his forehead tiredly.

"I'm losing years off my life."

"You already dress forty," Archie offered helpfully.

"Thank you, Archie."

"You're welcome."

I finished my wine in one swallow before turning toward Victor.

"Could you show me my room?"

"Gladly."

As Victor guided me toward the stairwell, Amy muttered one final thing beneath her breath.

"You look like trouble."

I paused halfway toward the stairs.

Then looked back at her.

"So do you."

For the first time all night-

Amy smiled.

Interesting.

•••••

The apartment surprised me.

Again.

The space was modest but warm - exposed brick walls, dark wooden floors, soft lighting, a small kitchen, shelves crowded with books and plants, large windows overlooking the neon-lit street below.

It felt lived in.

Not staged.

That alone made it unfamiliar to me.

"This is you," Victor said while setting down my luggage. "Bathroom's through there. Laundry's at the back."

I walked slowly through the apartment.

No marble.
No gold.
No armed guards.

Just quiet.

It should have felt small.

Instead-

It felt strangely peaceful.

"You need anything?" Victor asked.

"Yes."

He waited.

"For you to leave."

Victor smiled slightly.

"I'm next door if you need anything."

"I won't."

"Probably not."

He moved toward the door.

Then paused.

"Oh," he added casually. "Try not to threaten any more residents before breakfast."

The door shut before I could answer.

I stood silently inside the apartment for a long moment afterward.

Alone.

For the first time in years-

No guards stood outside my door.

No cameras watched me.

No one knew where I was.

The realization should have comforted me.

Instead-

It terrified me completely.

•••••

The next morning, loud banging echoed somewhere downstairs followed by someone screaming about noodles.

Apparently peace in London lasted approximately six hours.

I opened my apartment door just as Demi appeared carrying a box overflowing with paperwork while Allison danced beside her singing nonsense loudly to herself.

"Good morning, Diamond!" Demi smiled.

"Morning."

The second Allison crashed into her leg, papers exploded everywhere.

"Oh goodness- Allison!"

"I'm helping!"

"You're actively making it worse."

I crouched automatically and began gathering loose documents scattered across the hallway floor.

Invoices.
Legal forms.
Case files-

Then my hand froze.

One document had slid partially beneath my shoe.

At the bottom corner sat a symbol I recognized instantly.

A black serpent wrapped around a dagger.

My blood went cold.

No.

No no no-

That symbol had appeared inside André's encrypted files.