Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 87 - 89

Chapter 87: Chapter 89

Avara POV

The gravel road stretches like a quiet vein through the forest, its coarse surface crunching underfoot or tires. It leads to an open clearing, where the caravan rests at the edge of a tranquil lake. Moonlight dances on the rippling water, casting faint silver glimmers onto the caravan’s polished exterior. Surrounding the lake are tall, shadowy pines that frame the scene.

When the car stops, I climb out but I keep my elbow on top of the roof as I survey my surroundings.

"It’s a lot more... open than your last place."

I glance at him as he climbs and closes the door behind him.

"Like hell I was gonna get another visit from Botan’s inquisitors."

I struggle to brush away the sting. He takes out my luggage and carries it to the caravan with me following in tow. Inside the air carries a faint scent of wood and leather. Soft golden light from overhead sconces bathes the interior, reflecting off brass accents and the smooth varnish of wooden cabinets. Plush seating wraps around a compact dining table. He rolls my luggage under an open area just big enough to occupy the suitcase and gestures to the double bed at the far end.

"You can take the bed."

"What about you?"

He flicks an intrigued glance at me. "That an invitation ?"

"And how would that look?" I throw back.

"No one needs to know about us but us," he counters mockingly

I break into a begrudging laugh and he begins to move away.

"Nah, don’t worry about me." He bends down and opens to wide-spread doors to slide out a bulky box filled with folders. "For some late night reading. These are files that I salvaged that were worth the keep. Whenever you’re done with them, we can talk. Compare notes."

He pivots and I stop him.

"Simon..."

He faces me with a quizzical expression and I offer him a smile.

"Thank you... for everything."

"It ain’t nothing kid."

***

Sleep barely touched me because I’ve been consumed by the case files all centered on Haru Black’s organization with my father in orbit—his name hovering like a shadow at the edges. The details seem disconnected, yet when I trace the geographical pinpoints Simon had mapped, a disturbing pattern emerged—my father’s so-called "business trips" matched these locations. I could almost hear his voice narrating the reasons: fairs, conferences, rallies. But my mind churns, questioning the gaps, the times I wasn’t by his side. My unease grows with every nameless but undeniable overlap.

"You know—"

The sudden voice jolts me from my thoughts. My gasp is met with Simon’s towering presence in the doorway, his hair loose and characteristically wild, giving him the appearance of a modern-day Viking.

"I made breakfast," he began, motioning toward the portable barbecue outside. "Didn’t want to disturb you, but clearly, I don’t need to worry about that—did you even sleep?"

Flustered, I clutch a file to my chest as I stumble off the bed, navigating the strewn folders like a shipwreck survivor. Simon’s eyes flicker downward—briefly—to my braless tank top and underwear before he looks away sharply, scratching his head as he retreats from the caravan with an awkward cough.

I follow him out, the cool morning air brushing against my skin as I plop down at the foldable table near the barbecue. I slap the folder onto the tabletop.

"What the hell is Vellum?" I demand, flipping the file open to reveal the transcript of a conversation he once played for me during our rendezvous near the public park.

Simon appears unfazed. He comes over to a plate of fried eggs and crispy bacon in front of me before sitting down with his own. Without a word, he snatches the folder from my hand, planting it beside his plate, and digging into his food.

"Eat," he said curtly, tearing a piece of bacon with his teeth.

"Yes, daddy."

Simon chokes, coughing violently as bacon crumbs fly from his lips. His wide-eyed expression sends a spark of amusement through my otherwise once-tense mood.

"What?" I tease with a growing laugh. "I’m just embracing my newfound daddy issues."

His brows furrow as he reaches for a napkin to dab at his mouth. "Well, don’t try them on me."

After breakfast, my eyes point to the file. "Vellum. Any theories?"

"More a myth than a theory. From conversations I gleaned from over the years—the context that it has been mentioned in. It’s some kind of insurance policy. Leverage that he has—something that has somehow contributed to him being untouchable. I don’t know what it is."

"Sounds like him... but how am I to know?"

"Avara," he says gently.

"No, he’s been playing me," I say with a resentful smile. "And my brothers like everyone else around him—I was nothing but a pawn, an instrument that served its purpose. Everything—everything about him, my life has just been a construct, Simon. All that time I’ve given to him and for what? Haru claims he’s no threat but my father’s fear has sent him running into Colton Vacheron’s arms—why? Because it’s for more than just money. There’s a nexus."

"Always is," he says in harmony. "I’ve done a deep dive on the Vacheron Enterprises and there’s not so much as a whiff of scandal on their name. No allegations, no open cases. No history of any corporate misconduct or criminal affiliations. They are as clean as a church."

"But you think they’re connected?"

"To discover more about that will take an inside job to be able to infiltrate those heavy-duty defenses."

"Are you hinting at me again?" I say with a cunning smile. "The storm to undo them all?"

With a suddenly serious face, he asks, "Are you going to tell your brothers?"

I waver slightly. "No... I don’t know how deep things go and I don’t want to overplay my hand." I never thought a reality could exist where secrets would pin us against each other. "I know that they are involved but it’s likely that our dad fed them half truths and made them think they’re doing the right thing when they weren’t."

"What if they know everything but they’re helping him anyway?"

"I don’t want to believe that of them... not my brothers." I drive my hand through my hair, waves lapping to mostly one side. "Gosh, there’s only so much I can handle."

"I think you underestimate yourself."

I smile back at him coyly. "I should go home."

"You ready for that?"

"Okay, maybe go home tomorrow."

He nods and leans back casually in his seat. "We should probably talk contingencies. If anything happens to me. I have a contact in the CIA I can put you in touch with. She knows everything and is one of few that believed in my theories about Haru’s Organisation as well as viable leads like your father."

"Nothing’s going to happen to you."

"Well, without you to hold back the wolf and be the angel on his shoulder. There’s no telling what Botan will be capable of."