Page 112 of Dishonored

Caesar pressed the button to talk back, asking, “Why the stairwell?”

“He directed one there. The other one is with him.”

Caesar didn’t bother responding. The less communication they had at the moment, the better this would all work out for them. His curiosity ate at him, though. He ignored it by talking to Aria instead despite not wanting to do that very much either.

“How do you think he’ll react to all of this?” Caesar asked.

Aria didn’t look away from the door. “Badly.”

“You asked for a few minutes—what do you plan to do?”

She shrugged the dainty line of her shoulders. “Hurt him.”

Ah.

Yeah.

Caesar knew that urge all too well. “Physically, or emotionally?”

“Can’t one be nearly the same as the other when done properly?”

“That’s fair,” he returned.

Aria stared down at her hands. “He’s hurt me for long enough; it’s my turn, now.”

“Who am I to judge? I’ve spent the last two decades of my life hurting everyone and anyone who I felt deserved it all because of a bitch who wouldn’t keep her fucking hands off of me as a kid. You want to hurt him, then go ahead and hurt him. Make it worth it; otherwise, you’re left with guilt when you don’t follow through because maybe you couldn’t—maybe he didn’t deserve it. They all fucking deserve it.”

His question sent her questioning gaze flying to him, and she replied, “Not everyone, Caesar. They didn’t all deserve it. They’re not all culprits.”

“Maybe not, but they all looked the same to me at the end of the day. The person who didn’t wake up down the hall. The bitch that ignored what she saw one night. The family that didn’t care enough to notice. The people who saw obvious signs of something being wrong, but chose not to ask or do anything about it because it was fucking inconvenient to their life and business. They may not be identical in appearance, but they are all a similar breed of monster.”

“Sor—”

“Don’t apologize,” he said sharply.

Aria sucked in a quick breath, and nodded before she went back to staring at the door. He was grateful that the comm buzzed in his ear again because it took him away from his darkening thoughts. Something he desperately needed right then.

“They’re coming up your way, Caesar,” Cain said.

And this was where it got … well, tricky for a bit. Keeping the cameras off meant for the time it took for Raffe and his—now one—man to get up to their floor using the elevator, it was just Caesar and Aria. Cain and his men would take the stairwell to get up to their floor—but would Raffe come in blazing with the man at his side, or alone because he thought he was invincible?

It was hard to say.

Well, not really.

“You’re going to hear a gun shot, likely,” Caesar said.

Aria’s gaze narrowed. “What, why?”

“Cain posted a guard outside the door here. It’s to make Raffe think that’s who is watching you, and that you’re in here alone. We want him to come in without his man, right?”

That was their hope, anyway.

“Oh, yeah, I—”

Pop.

It wasn’t entirely silent.