Love's Cunning Ruse

"Keep up," Camilla ordered Charles in a frosty tone.
Charles trailed behind Julie's car, steering through the winding streets with practiced ease. "Miss, shall we make our move?" he inquired, the concern
for timing evident in his voice.
Julie seemed vulnerable, alone in her car – the perfect opportunity to strike.
But Camilla had no intention of acting just yet; she instructed Charles to merely follow. With no choice but to comply, he continued the pursuit.
At the entrance of the Nine-one Shooting Grounds, Kleist had been waiting for Julie's arrival for some time.
To Julie, Kleist no longer seemed as intimidating as he once did. She understood that his obedience to Rowan was absolute, ingrained in him as if
from birth, as though it was the only education he'd ever received.
As soon as Julie stepped out of her car, Kleist aimed a gun at her.
Startled, Julie instinctively raised her hands in surrender. Weren't they supposed to spare her life?
Kleist's finger hooked around the trigger without intent to shoot. His gesture was clear...
"Take it," he commanded, his voice as cold as an order.
Julie's hands trembled slightly as she took the gun, her brows furrowing in confusion. "What's this for?"
"The boss thinks you're feeling insecure. This should give you a sense of safety. But if you dare shoot at him, you're going to have a very bad time,"
Kleist stated matter-of-factly, without a hint of emotion.
Julie managed a strained smile, more awkward than comforting, and said, "Kleist, your English is much better than before. Were you holding back all
this time?"
She remembered, during her previous unpleasant encounter with them, Kleist's English had been less than fluent.
Kleist, of course, didn't mention that his lack of language skills had subjected him to a grueling period of practice on Rowan's insistence, almost to the
point of exhaustion.
Having grown accustomed to Kleist's icy demeanor over their few interactions, Julie simply followed him, gun in hand, to meet Rowan.
Rowan was practicing his shooting, seemingly oblivious to Julie and Kleist's arrival.

It wasn't until he had fired his last bullet that he turned around to face Julie, not uttering a single word.
Feeling unnerved under his gaze, Julie extended her hand, "My phone, please?"
Rowan gave Kleist a glance, and without hesitation, Kleist handed Julie her phone. She checked it quickly and asked, "You didn't make any copies of
the photos, did you?"
"I don't enjoy gazing at the body of someone with a cross-dressing fetish."
Truth be told, if Kieran knew Rowan said that about him, there might be hell to pay.
Julie steered the conversation back to the main issue: "The USB drive you gave me last time had nothing on it."

She clutched the gun tightly, her whole body tense as if on high alert for Rowan's approach. He leaned forward ever so slightly, and she instantly
raised the gun towards him.
Kleist moved to intervene, but noticing the gun wasn't loaded, he halted.
"Step back," Rowan's words were directed at Kleist.
Hesitant, Kleist evaluated the woman before him. Despite her delicate appearance, she seemed as dangerous as a trained assassin, particularly with
the gun in her hand and Rowan within close range. Yet, Rowan's tone was decisive, and Kleist reluctantly obeyed, leaving the scene.
The vast shooting range now contained only Julie and Rowan.
Julie felt even more on edge.
With each step Rowan took towards her, she retreated until backed against a chain-link fence. She held out the gun and warned, "Don't come any
closer, or I'll shoot..."
Rowan's lips curved into a sly, almost charming smile. "MoMo, have you ever killed anyone?"
Silence fell. It was a strike at her vulnerability. She had only practiced martial arts as a child, killing someone was out of the question.
"I may not have the guts to kill you, but if you come any closer... I will shoot, I mean it..."
"The bullet needs to be chambered to be ready to fire," he pointed out, giving her a helpful tip.

Embarrassed by her own ignorance, Julie looked down at the gun, finally readying it, and warned him again, "You asked me here to talk about the
USB. Let's talk, but don't come any closer, or it might go off accidentally..."
"Darling, do you think I'd give you a loaded gun?" Rowan closed the gap between them.
He was tall, with long arms that allowed him to keep a safe distance while also caging her in against the fence.
Weighing the gun in her hand, Julie realized she couldn't tell if it was actually loaded...
During her moment of frustration, Rowan swiftly grabbed her gun-wielding hand and pulled her close. His other arm encircled her waist, spinning her
into the shooter's stance, his finger over hers on the trigger, and fired...
A loud bang echoed as the bullet flew from the barrel. It all happened so fast that Julie was left stunned, rigid as a mummy. In that instant, Rowan
withdrew his hand from the gun and covered her ears.
Julie's heart raced, and after a moment, she pried his hands away and scrambled away from him.
The bullet had missed the target, instead hitting the board that supported it, causing the silhouette to crash down.
Julie glanced at the gun in disdain. It was far too dangerous...
Dropping it aside, she was now truly upset and turned to Rowan, "If you're not going to talk, I'm leaving..."
She tried to make a run for it, but Rowan pulled her back.
"Davina. Remember?" Rowan inquired.
Julie was cornered by Rowan, unable to make her escape, and she especially loathed his touch. So, she shook off his hand, but the thought of
leaving vanished. Instead, she confronted him, "How on earth do you know Davina?"

As soon as the question left her lips, Julie mentally kicked herself for asking something so daft. Given Rowan's close ties with Rankin Smith and his
obvious concern for Rankin, was there any chance he wouldn't know about Davina?
A realization struck Julie, and she eyed Rowan with a mix of doubt and wariness. "Davina's death..."
"The day she kidnapped you, I indeed orchestrated her snatch from the police van," Rowan confessed without hesitation.
At that time, he only knew Davina had abducted the younger Abraham daughter, Sansa's sister. Rowan had no interest in Julie then; he was after
Davina's life, which was why he never recognized Julie. Their first encounter was in Sycamore Village.

Julie's eyes widened in shock at his admission, "The one who tortured Davina... was it you?"
"Tell me about the circumstances of Davina's death," Rowan instructed.
Julie didn't have to obey Rowan, yet she recounted faithfully. She remembered what Harding Ladd had said, the state of Davina in her final moments,
and frowned, "Her tendons were cut, the bullet wounds were festering from infection after the bullets were removed. She was repeatedly dosed with
drugs and then forced into withdrawal..."
After hearing Julie out, Rowan nodded and summed up with a detached remark, "How brutal."
But his expression didn't betray any sense of cruelty about Davina's suffering; instead, he seemed heartlessly indifferent.
Julie's frown deepened, "So, the vicious one isn't you?"
Rowan closed the distance between them, "Do you really think I was the puppet master behind her agonizing death?"
Julie, who never considered herself particularly sharp and faced with a master of deception like Rowan, couldn't decipher the truth from his
expression.
So she chose to remain silent.
Rowan chuckled, reached out to ruffle Julie's hair, then turned away, offering a casual explanation, "I did order the bullet to be removed without
anesthesia while she was unconscious. I had Kleist drop her off at a small clinic in the village for her to fend for herself, that's true. However..."
He turned back, as if to continue the story, but to his utter surprise, Julie was brandishing a paring knife at the back of his head. As he spun around,
the blade was now pointed at his chin.
"What's this about?" Rowan pinched the knife between two fingers, pushing it away, "What act are you playing?"
"Keep your hands to yourself, or it'll be a case of white blade in, green blade out!"
Rowan paused, then asked, "Why green and not red?"
"Poking your gallbladder."
Rowan was genuinely impressed by Julie's unique way of thinking, "Are you referring to when I held your waist, touched your hand, or... brushed your
head?"
"!!"

"I suppose it's all of the above." Ruffling her hair seemed unintentional, more like he found her glaring, hating demeanor somewhat adorable—a toy
he was fond of and couldn't resist touching out of a reflex. And that touch wasn't half bad...
Rowan stepped back, avoiding Julie's knife, and shifted her focus, "The person who took Davina from the village clinic was Zenith. You should
probably call him Lucian."
"Lucian?" Julie retracted the knife, still in disbelief, furrowing her brow, "Since when can you spout nonsense without legal consequence?"
"Believe me or not, that's on you." Rowan fished out a USB drive from his pocket and tossed it to Julie, "This is the drive Zenith wanted you to give
me. It's not empty."