Dogs Among Withered Roses - Chapter 5

When exactly had it started?

Was it the fleeting moment when he would look at her first, carefully observing her, only to avert his eyes as if he hadn’t been looking once their gazes met? Or the time he’d used his tall height to look down at her indifferently? Or maybe that day when she had bowed politely in greeting, and he’d turned his back as if to ignore her?

She didn’t know. She couldn’t tell where this unpleasant feeling had begun.

Even if she tried to trace it back, the farthest she could go was two years ago, when he first joined the Valentiera Family as a Picciotto, yet the more she thought about it, the more distant it all seemed. That in itself was strange.

After replaying those brief moments over and over, Berenice still couldn’t find an answer. One thing was certain, though: despite his quiet mouth and clean, deliberate actions free of excess, there was something insolent in his eyes and that subtle expression of his that irritated her like a hangnail.

Not that she could just pluck those eyes out.

Really, if he bothered her that much, she could just avoid him. Just like how he’d ignored her once before, she could do the same. She knew that well enough in her head, but her emotions refused to align with her reason, and her actions leaned far too much toward emotion and subjective feeling. That was the problem.

It was uncomfortable, even unfamiliar, to be caught between logic and emotion, unable to reconcile the two. She wanted to resolve it somehow, but since only her feelings were running ahead of her reason, she couldn’t find a clear way out.

In the end, Berenice, unable to come up with a solution, lifted her whiskey glass again. As she capped the bottle and began to tidy up, Erkin, who had been standing silently, finally spoke. His face hadn’t shown any change, but it seemed his patience had worn thin.

“The boss asked me to take the position because of the man you used to see.”

“Oh, I see.”

Michele and Andre had guessed right.

Nodding calmly, Berenice asked, “I didn’t hold a wedding mass wearing a mantilla in church. So what’s the problem with dating Russo while I was seeing Brian?”

“Of course, your private relationships aren’t my concern, but….”

Erkin trailed off with a slow sigh, rubbing his eyebrow. His face showed faint annoyance, as if he were unsure whether he should say what came next.

“Russo Gucci was passing on information about your movements, as well as intelligence disadvantageous to us, to the Marino Family.”

“He was selling information for money?”

“Quite profitably.”

“My, how shocking. I’m absolutely devastated.”

Sliding down from the edge of the table, Berenice walked to the cabinet lined with several kinds of whiskey and pulled out a brown envelope. It was fairly thick. Her hand and the small tilt of her chin were casual as she tossed it lightly toward Erkin.

“You think I didn’t know who Russo was or what he was up to?”

The envelope was full of photos of Russo Gucci. As Erkin flipped through them, his brows furrowed at the angles—they were taken discreetly from a distance, like a private investigator trailing his target without being noticed.

“Good shots, right? Michele and I took them ourselves.”

In the photos, Russo could be seen speaking with Marino Family soldatos, exchanging things with them. Erkin then picked up an unmarked cassette tape and inspected both sides.

“Playing detective was fun. Andre handled the bugging device. I told him to get drinks with Russo so I could set it up.”

As she arranged the remaining bottles back in the cabinet, Berenice grinned, saying it had been a hassle checking the recordings every day and sorting out anything useful.

Returning the photos and tape, Erkin asked quietly, “You knew?”

“Yeah. From the start.”

“You met him anyway? On purpose?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Erkin’s mouth opened as if to ask if that was seriously her answer, then shut again. Berenice found his stunned expression oddly satisfying. She pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse on the table. After whiskey, a cigarette just felt right.

“You think I don’t look into the men who try to approach me? How many men do you think come to a mafia accountant like me with pure intentions? You think I’d just let them? Idiot.”

Like she hadn’t done business before.

Clamping a cigarette between her lips, Berenice muttered under her breath. The tip flared red as she lit it, and she tilted her head lazily as she exhaled a long stream of smoke.

“Your face looks more surprised than I expected. You didn’t think I could shake off surveillance and move around, did you?”

“….”

She let out a laugh of disbelief.

“I thought you knew and were just pretending to overlook it. Guess not.”

Considering that the Valentiera Family was one of the major mafia organizations ruling Belloc’s underworld, and that Berenice was the accountant managing its funds, it wasn’t easy for her to avoid surveillance.

Her brother and boss, Ricardo; the other families waiting for the Valentiera Family to slip up; and the Federal Bureau of Security, always watching for even the smallest mistake to use against them.

There were countless eyes monitoring her every move. But after all these years, did they really think she hadn’t learned how to evade a few pairs of eyes? She didn’t know how foolishly they underestimated her, but….

“If you didn’t know, now you do.”

It wasn’t that she couldn’t eliminate those watching her. She just didn’t bother, because getting rid of them would only invite new ones to take their place. It was easier to leave them alone.

Thinking of those leech-like bastards who clung to her endlessly no matter how often she shook them off, Berenice ran a rough hand through her tousled hair.

Through the haze of drifting cigarette smoke, Erkin’s lips parted slowly.

“…To be honest, I was surprised.”

“How honest of you. But now that you mention it, I think Russo really believed I was in love with him.”

Just a few soft smiles and he thought he’d become something special, puffing up with ridiculous pride. Watching that inflated self-satisfaction had actually been rather amusing for Berenice.

“So I decided to leave him alone for a while, just to see how far he’d go.”

“….”

“Did you go after him and threaten him? You didn’t kill him, did you?”

At the question of whether he’d killed him, Erkin’s eyebrows twisted, clearly displeased. His eyes seemed to ask, ‘Was that bastard even worth killing?’ Or maybe, ‘What kind of person do you think I am?’

What kind? A mafia, obviously.

“So he’s alive. You probably just gave him a little scare.”

With a few punches mixed in, no doubt. Berenice smirked, as if she already knew well enough how they handled things.

“I figured no one around here would think twice about me switching lovers again, so I didn’t worry about it… but that was careless of me. My mistake. I didn’t expect you and Ricardo to mess it up like this.”

“…Mess it up?”

“Watch your tone.”

Berenice flicked the cigarette between her fingers as if to say she’d give him a chance to correct himself. The mood suggested that if he didn’t, the ash might scatter across his face at any moment.

“Did we… mess it up?”

“At least you know how to fix your words.”

Berenice gave a short, cold laugh, tapping the ash into the tray.

“So what, did you help me succeed instead?”

“….”

“I don’t know whether Don (the title for a mafia boss) Marino gave Russo the order himself or if some Soldato, eager to make a name for himself, acted as a broker between them, but… I deliberately fed them false information and pretended not to notice. My plan was to grab Marino by the throat once he took the bait.”

Berenice twisted her lips, clearly irritated by how things had turned out.

“…If Russo had been a Picciotto under Valentiera, it would’ve made sense for Ricardo to step in. But otherwise, this was pure overreach, an interference that went too far. And you’re just plain arrogant.”

With a drawn-out sigh, Berenice stepped closer to Erkin. The sharp scent of cigarettes gave way to a clean, crisp fragrance that grew stronger as she approached. Scrunching her nose slightly at the familiar smell, one she’d already grown used to within a single day, she tilted her head up.

She’d never thought of herself as short, but this man was ridiculously tall. She’d assumed it was because she’d been sitting at lunch, yet even standing, she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.

No matter how much she drank or smoked, the lingering irritation refused to fade. To vent it in the simplest way possible, Berenice inhaled deeply and burned through the rest of her cigarette in quick, sharp drags.

Then Erkin asked, “Is Brian Lockwood the same?”

“I guess you’ve never been told you’re rude. Do your ears come with some kind of word filter?”

“Do you know whose brother he is?”

“You’re really persistent. Of course I knew. He’s worth spending my time and money on, he’s fairly handsome, and he’s a lawyer. Good job, good looks. He’s not someone I’d be embarrassed to have by my side.”

With an exasperated look, Berenice crushed her cigarette into the ashtray and spoke as if to tell him to shut up and leave her alone. Annoying as the question was, it wasn’t one she couldn’t answer.

“Have you always dated like that?”

“Who, men? Like that?”

“…Have you ever dated women?”

“…?”

Why did the question take such a strange turn? Was he seriously asking? Her head filled with question marks. Yet the look on Erkin’s face as he stared at the startled Berenice was filled with the same kind of question marks.

What’s with that expression? That won’t do.

Loving or dating someone of the same sex wasn’t something to be ashamed of, nor was it anyone’s business to interfere, and there was no need to argue about freedom or rights. But in a time when the Federal Bureau of Security used even the most trivial things as blackmail material, being misunderstood about her sexuality was the last thing she wanted.

“I’m not.”

Berenice snapped back almost like a growl, but Erkin didn’t seem to believe her easily. Unbelievable. Putting strength into her gaze, Berenice stepped closer to him.