Page 17 of Sinful Lord

“I think the ceiling vent will make a good home,” I say, looking up at the dead space just under the ceiling. “That will provide a good view of the apartment.”

It’s also high enough that Melina will never be able to get up there to check it out.

The process is quick enough, and before I know it, I have my first set of secret eyes in this forbidden room.

“This is so much better than watching through your window,” I smile, bringing up the newly live feed on my phone.

Satisfied with the view, I toggle through all the other cameras I have in my possession—at least, the most pertinent ones. In total, there are almost too many to count.

The von Bingens really did a number on this city. With the surveillance state they imposed, it’s a miracle this city has any crime left.

That is, unless the von Bingen’s are involved in Berlin’s seedy underbelly. Yasha foolishly let that slip. I’ll find a way to use it against her, if I need to. For now, though, she’s done me proud.

After she handed over the necessary information, I was able to access the city’s broad camera network, along with its cache of illegally recorded footage.

That’s how I found my girl.

Melina Kilpatrick. Unmistakable, even under a half-pulled-up hoody and a downward gaze. She walked through the streets like a girl who had no business being in Berlin.

It made her easy to spot.

I followed that alluring figure throughout the cobblestone streets. Across the Spree river, and to this downtrodden neighborhood.

Fortunately for me, there was a perfectly placed camera right above her apartment’s back entrance. From there, I watched her eventually leave again, sulking through the city towards the part of town where I first suspected she’d be living.

Kreuzberg.

Berlin’s main hub of cutting-edge art and deplorable degeneracy.

I’d been there years ago on a job, and the vibe had always stuck with me. It had an aura that I never thought I’d find anywhere else… until I saw a hint of it in Melina’s coronation painting.

That’s part of the reason I stole it—or maybe I was just pulling her pigtails. It doesn’t matter.

What does matter, is the insight that painting gave me.

Melina wasn’t just some spoiled princess who painted because she had nothing else to do.

She was an artist.

She had passion and vision, and that drove me wild.

It also gave me the first clue as to where she’d end up after escaping her gilded cage.

Berlin was the perfect fit.

Her family wouldn’t get it. They’re probably still scouring Italy. That’s where she had been scheduled to go before the war, after all.

But It would have been too easy for her family to track her down there. And while Melina is definitely naïve, she’s anything but stupid.

Though, I guess even the smartest among us fuck up every once in a while.

Because it’s quickly become apparent that Melina forgot to bring along something very important on this little adventure of hers.

Money.

I guess when you grow up surrounded by it, you assume it just falls from the sky.

Her apartment confirms it. She didn’t bring enough cash. What I saw when I followed her through the city’s camera system was just another clue.