Karen stood there, at a loss for words, because she didn’t understand what she had just heard.
She didn’t know much about gangs or groups. All she knew was that the area she was in was a bad area, the type of place you didn’t visit unless you had to. So she had no clue if the men in front of her were strong, or rough enough, or even organised. She had simply thought it might be enough to scare away some thieves.
Because that was still what she thought they were dealing with.
Thieves.
To Karen, crime was numbers on a report, broken glass, a stolen display. It wasn’t organised pressure that made CEOs refuse calls and vendors hesitate. That was why this felt wrong. It was quiet, clean, and controlled, like a hand squeezing the store’s throat without leaving fingerprints. And the fact these men knew it, meant she was already late.
Yet the words she was hearing made it sound as if the man in front of her knew the situation already, as if he had been expecting someone like her to walk in, and he had decided the answer before she had even finished speaking.
"Wait, but you don’t even know how much I’m willing to offer?" Karen said.
The man waved his hand, signalling that it was best for her to go.
"A dead person can’t do anything with their money," he replied. "There are people we don’t want to upset. Every gang in Notting Hill wouldn’t upset the person who targeted you. Although I am interested in knowing how you managed to upset them."
So her guess, and the feeling she had from the start, was right. She was being targeted. Even if she couldn’t solve the guard issue tonight, she might at least be able to find out who was behind it.
"Who is it?" Karen asked. "Tell me, who is targeting our department store, and how is it that you know about it?"
The man turned back around to enjoy his drink, making it clear he didn’t want to entertain her offer. He didn’t even look at her properly. He just took a slow sip, like she wasn’t worth his time.
"1 million," Karen said.
That made him pause.
"You don’t have to do anything," Karen added. "I understand that no amount of money will work to help me. But just tell me who it is, and that money is yours."
This finally interested him. He turned back around, eyes sharper now.
"Every street-level gang was told we shouldn’t accept a job if it came our way that had anything to do with a department store," he said. "We were informed beforehand."
Karen’s stomach tightened.
"There are those who might not have taken the warning seriously," he continued, "until they learned who made the order. It was a group called the Gilt Rats."
Behind Karen, Veronica shifted uneasily. The guards stepped closer as well, closing the space without thinking, as if they wanted to pull Karen away. The men around the bar also looked uncomfortable. It was almost like they didn’t like their boss saying the name out loud.
"Gilt Rats?" Karen repeated. "Why would they target me? I’ve never even heard of them before."
The man shrugged.
"That is not information we are told," he answered. "What’s important is that we listen to what they say. No one in the city will go up against the Gilt Rats."
He hesitated, then corrected himself.
"Well, that might not be completely true. There is one crazy group making the rounds. But regardless, I don’t think they would get into this mess, since it isn’t personal for them."
"They’re the biggest and most powerful group in the city. Now that you’ve been made a target by them... they won’t stop until they get what they want."
Karen gulped. Her mind started racing. Had she upset one of them without knowing? And what was their goal, to run the entire business into the ground?
"Before you ask any more," the man said, "this is all I will say. It’s best you leave now. I’m not meant to share that information."
He glanced at her, then smirked.
"Well, that is... you have to at least pay me first."
Karen paid him.
After that, her group left quickly, but they didn’t stop there for the night.
Although Karen didn’t think the man was lying, she still couldn’t believe it. A group of people she had never heard of having so much power didn’t sit right with her. In her world, money opened doors. Yet tonight, money was being treated like it meant nothing.
Surely someone would risk something for enough of it.
So Karen went searching. She found other gangs and approached them, one after another, offering larger sums, offering guarantees. Every time, the reaction shifted the moment they understood what she wanted.
Some laughed.
Some got angry.
Some looked at her like she was stupid for even asking.
Not a single group agreed to help when they found out what the job was for, leaving Karen with no options at all.
When she eventually returned to her manor, she didn’t know what to do other than bring out the bottle of wine and start drinking. The glass felt heavy in her hand, and yet she poured another anyway.
’With everything happening, will I just have to sell the business?’ Karen thought. ’If that happens, it will have to be at quite the discounted price as well. But then what do I do with the money?’
She picked up her phone, still hoping there was something she had missed.
That was when she saw a recent text from a particular someone, a name that made her pause.
"The Curtis family..." Karen whispered.
Maybe they knew someone. Maybe they knew someone who would be willing to act as guards for the company, whatever the price was.
"I’ll pay it," Karen said, her voice quiet but firm. "I’ll pay whatever it is they need."