⇚ 7 ⇛

❚ ❙ A Woman Called Diamond ❙ ❚

"You can't threaten people," Victor hissed under his breath.

"I didn't threaten him," I replied calmly. "I educated him."

The locksmith standing nearest to us stopped smiling entirely.

Rain poured steadily over the estate buildings around us, turning the cracked pavement slick and reflective beneath the flickering streetlights. Somewhere above, a child continued crying behind locked windows.

I could still hear him.

Victor stepped in front of me slightly before I could move closer toward the men.

"This eviction is unlawful," he said firmly, rain dripping from his dark curls. "You entered the property while a child was alone inside. That is criminal negligence."

The taller locksmith shrugged lazily.

"Got proof?"

Victor held up his phone.

The smugness disappeared from both their faces immediately.

Interesting.

Apparently lawyers could be dangerous after all.

"You recorded us?" the shorter one snapped.

"No," Victor replied coolly. "But the building CCTV did."

The men exchanged a quick glance.

Cowards always looked at each other before deciding how brave they wanted to be.

Mara suddenly gasped beside us.

"Tyler!"

I looked up.

A tiny face appeared behind the third-floor window, blurry through rainwater and dirty glass. The little boy pressed both palms against the window while sobbing.

Something cold moved through me instantly.

I hated children crying.

Not because it annoyed me.

Because it reminded me too much of things I spent years trying not to remember.

Victor turned back toward the men.

"Open the flat," he said quietly.

The taller man rolled his eyes.

"Management's got the keys."

Wrong answer.

My gaze shifted toward the locksmith van parked nearby.

Metal crowbar resting carelessly inside.

Cheap tools.
Cheap men.
Cheap intimidation.

Then-

My eyes caught it.

A black serpent wrapped around a silver dagger printed faintly on the side of the van beneath the property management logo.

My pulse slowed.

No.

Again?

The same symbol.

The exact same one hidden inside André's encrypted files.

What the hell was it doing here?

"Diamond."

Victor's voice pulled me back slightly.

I realized too late he'd noticed me staring.

"You alright?"

No.

Absolutely not.

Instead, I smiled faintly.

"Perfectly."

Then I walked toward the van.

"Diamond," Victor warned immediately.

Too late.

I grabbed the crowbar from the open side door and slammed it directly into the building entrance lock.

CRACK.

The metal split violently.

The entire entrance door burst inward.

Rain and cold wind flooded through the hallway.

Everyone froze.

Victor looked horrified.

The locksmiths looked furious.

Mara looked seconds away from collapsing in relief.

"What," I asked calmly, lowering the crowbar, "was management planning to do? Arrest me for helping?"

"You can't just break into buildings!" Victor snapped.

"I literally just did."

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"

Mara sprinted inside before the men could react.

One of the locksmiths moved toward me aggressively.

Victor stepped directly between us instantly.

Interesting.

The shorter man cursed under his breath.

"You people are insane."

"No," I corrected. "You locked a child inside a flat."

Upstairs, hurried footsteps echoed through the stairwell.

Then-

A tiny figure appeared.

The little boy launched himself down the final staircase and into his mother's arms sobbing.

The locksmiths quickly got into their van after that.

Cowards.

Victor watched them speed away before rubbing both hands over his face in exhausted disbelief.

"You are a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"And yet your client got her son back."

"That's not the point."

"It should be."

The little boy suddenly approached me slowly while clutching a green dinosaur toy tightly against his chest.

I stiffened instinctively.

Children rarely approached me willingly.

Usually they sensed something wrong with me before adults did.

But this one simply stared upward with wide eyes before carefully holding the dinosaur out toward me.

"You can hold him if you want."

I blinked.

The toy looked absurdly small in my hands when I accepted it carefully.

Green scales.
Missing eye.
One arm stitched badly back onto the body.

Ugly little thing.

"His name is Pickles," the boy whispered seriously.

"...Pickles."

"He protects me."

Something inside my chest tightened painfully.

Not pain exactly.

Something softer.

More dangerous.

I looked down at the tiny dinosaur in my hands and suddenly-

Stella flashed through my mind.

Six years old.
Apple barrettes.
Warm smile.

Gone.

My throat tightened instantly.

I handed the dinosaur back carefully.

"Well," I said quietly, "he's doing an excellent job."

The child smiled at me.

And somehow-

That terrified me more than violence ever had.

Because for one horrible moment-

I felt peaceful.

•••••

The walk back toward Shoreditch was wet, cold, and annoyingly silent.

Rain reflected neon signs across the pavement while late afternoon traffic hissed through puddles around us. London looked softer in bad weather somehow.

Less polished.

More honest.

Victor walked beside me with both hands shoved into his coat pockets looking deeply exhausted.

Finally-

"You cannot assault property every time you're annoyed."

"I wasn't annoyed."

"You broke into a building with a crowbar!"

"There was a child trapped inside."

"That's not the issue."

"It literally was."

Victor stopped walking entirely.

Rain soaked through his dark curls while he stared at me in disbelief.

"How are you real?"

"I ask myself that daily."

"You committed a crime."

"Technically the crowbar committed the crime."

Victor looked toward the sky briefly like he was asking God for patience.

Then-

To my surprise-

He laughed.

Not mockingly.

Not sarcastically.

Just genuinely.

Warmly.

It caught me off guard badly enough that I stopped walking too.

"You're insane," he muttered.

"And you're smiling."

"That's because I've accepted the universe abandoned me."

I rolled my eyes and continued walking.

Still-

Something about hearing him laugh stayed with me longer than it should have.

"You scared Mara half to death," he added eventually.

"She was scared before I arrived."

Victor sighed.

"That's not what I mean."

I glanced sideways toward him.

"You really think the law protects people like her?"

"It's supposed to."

"That wasn't my question."

Victor went quiet.

The rain softened around us into mist.

Finally he exhaled slowly.

"No," he admitted quietly. "Not always."

Honest answer.

Interesting.

"So why keep trying?"

Victor shoved damp curls away from his forehead tiredly.

"Because if people stop trying, men like that win completely."

I looked away first.

That answer bothered me more than it should have.

Because he meant it.

Victor genuinely believed ordinary people were worth saving.

No manipulation.
No ulterior motive.
No transaction.

Just belief.

How horrifying.

•••••

The Noodle Barn exploded into noise the second we walked through the doors.

Archie nearly fell off his chair pointing dramatically toward us.

"THE CRIMINALS RETURN!"

"I'm not a criminal," Victor muttered while removing his soaked coat.

"Debatable," I replied.

Amy looked up immediately from behind the bar.

"What happened to you two?"

"Diamond committed breaking and entering," Victor answered flatly.

The entire pub went silent for exactly one second.

Then Archie screamed:

"SHE WHAT?"

"It was for justice," I corrected.

Victor pointed toward me.

"That sentence should concern everyone here."

"To be fair," Donna suddenly chimed in from a booth near the back, "I knew she'd commit crimes eventually. She's got the cheekbones for it."

"Thank you?" I said uncertainly.

"That wasn't a compliment."

"People here say that often."

Granny Kim appeared from the kitchen carrying a wooden spoon.

The second Victor explained what happened, she smacked him directly over the head.

"OW!"

"Don't scold pretty girl for helping child!"

"She broke a door!"

"And child got saved?"

Victor opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

The pub burst into laughter.

Traitors.

Granny Kim turned toward me approvingly.

"You fight good."

"Yes."

"Excellent. Stay for dinner."

That apparently was not a request.

•••••

Dinner at the Noodle Barn was absolute chaos.

Not elegant chaos either.

Loud chaos.

The long table near the center of the pub overflowed with bowls of noodles, fried food, chopsticks, half-empty drinks, and people constantly speaking over one another.

Archie somehow managed telling three different stories simultaneously.

Donna argued loudly with Xavier about football despite openly admitting she didn't understand the rules.

Allison sat beside me drawing violent stick figures she insisted were "me beating bad guys."

Disturbingly accurate.

"You hold chopsticks weird," Amy muttered suddenly from across the table.

"I hold them correctly."

"You hold them like they insulted your family."

"They probably did."

To my surprise-

Amy snorted slightly into her drink.

Tiny progress.

Victor sat opposite me unusually quiet tonight.

Watching mostly.

Observing.

Every so often I caught him staring before he quickly looked away again.

Suspicious man.

"Diamond," Xavier suddenly said warmly, "what did you do before London?"

My grip tightened around my wine glass.

Dangerous question.

"I travelled."

"Rich answer," Amy muttered.

"She definitely had horses," Archie added confidently.

"I hate horses."

"See?" Archie pointed proudly. "Trauma."

Everyone laughed except me.

Victor noticed immediately.

His expression softened slightly.

Annoyingly.

"Did you always want to become a lawyer?" I asked him abruptly to redirect attention.

The table collectively groaned.

"No," Donna laughed. "Victor wanted to become Batman."

"I was eight."

"And emotionally committed."

Victor looked genuinely offended.

"I still could become Batman."

"You can barely become awake," Amy replied.

The table erupted again.

Something strange happened then.

Without realizing it-

I relaxed.

Only slightly.

But enough.

Enough that the noise stopped feeling overwhelming.

Enough that I stopped planning exits automatically.

Enough that when Allison leaned against my arm sleepily halfway through dinner-

I didn't move away.

And that frightened me deeply.

Because nobody here wanted anything from me.

No expectations.
No obligations.
No manipulation.

Just warmth.

I didn't know what to do with that.

•••••

Later that night, I escaped onto the rooftop carrying a cigarette I never lit.

London stretched endlessly around me beneath silver rain and neon light.

The city looked beautiful from above.

Lonely too.

I understood lonely.

Footsteps approached behind me eventually.

Victor.

Of course.

He carried two mugs.

"You keep appearing places uninvited," I muttered.

"You climbed onto my roof."

"Fair point."

He handed me one mug.

Tea.

Disgusting.

Still warm though.

We stood beside each other quietly for a while listening to rain hit metal rooftops around us.

For once-

The silence didn't feel uncomfortable.

"You handled today well," Victor said eventually.

"I nearly assaulted three people."

"You protected people."

"That's not the same thing."

"It is to them."

I stared out toward London's skyline.

"You really believe people can be saved, don't you?"

"Yes."

"How unfortunate for you."

Victor smiled faintly into his tea.

"You don't believe that?"

"No."

"Why?"

Because good people die first.

Because monsters survive longest.

Because Stella bled out while murderers attended her funeral smiling politely.

But instead I shrugged.

"Experience."

Victor studied me quietly beside the rain.

Not judgmental.

Not invasive.

Just... curious.

It unsettled me badly.

"You hide pain behind arrogance," he said eventually.

"And you hide yours behind saviour complexes."

His mouth twitched slightly.

"Touché."

The rain worsened overhead.

Neither of us moved.

"I almost lost my law license last year," Victor admitted suddenly.

I looked toward him sharply.

Interesting.

"Hawthorne?"

He nodded once.

"They buried me in complaints after I exposed illegal tenant buyouts." He laughed bitterly. "Turns out rich people dislike consequences."

"How tragic."

"I lost most of my clients."

"Yet you kept going."

Victor leaned against the rooftop railing.

"Told you. I'm insane too."

For a moment neither of us spoke.

Then quietly-

"You should leave London," he said.

My eyes narrowed instantly.

"What?"

"If whoever you're running from finds you..." Victor sighed. "You don't look like someone hiding from ordinary people."

The city suddenly felt colder.

Dangerous territory.

I should lie.
Deflect.
Leave.

Instead I asked quietly:

"What if I don't want to leave?"

Victor looked toward me then.

Really looked.

Rain dripping from dark curls.
Tired eyes behind crooked glasses.
Softness he tried hiding beneath sarcasm.

And for the first time since arriving in London-

I realized the truly dangerous thing wasn't Hawthorne.

Or Frederick.

Or the serpent symbol.

It was this feeling slowly growing inside me.

Attachment.

Because standing beside Victor beneath London rain-

For the first time in years-

I didn't want to run.