Chapter 26

A few days later, a guest arrived at the terrace house on 33rd Street, suited to the darkness of night.

“You want me to testify in court?”

Miguel Santines snickered.

“Why should I go to all that trouble? Surely you’re not asking me to do it for a debtor who’s delayed repayment for three months.”

He chewed the end of his cigar sarcastically. James Grenville had worked hard to bring Miguel Santines, and since he learned it was Celia Lancaster who called him, he’d been acting like this.

Celia swallowed nervously and spoke.

“Well, winning would be good for you too, Mr. Santines.”

“Why would it be good for me?”

“If I sell Evans Hotel, I’ll have money to pay you. Then you’ll get your hundred thousand dastals.”

“Ah. So you want to buy me with money.”

But Miguel Santines laughed it off again. He propped his plump legs on the table and said,

“Lady Celia. If you’re going to propose a deal, do it right.”

“What?”

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. The hundred thousand dastals was always mine. Whether you get Evans Hotel or not doesn’t matter to me.”

Meaning, whether Celia won the inheritance or not, he had the right to that money, and he was confident he’d get it somehow.

Celia bit her lip in frustration. Miguel Santines gave a sly smile.

“Well, Evans Hotel isn’t the only thing you can sell me, is it? Your distinguished father’s trust, the grand Lancaster villa, or…”

He looked Celia up and down with a leering gaze. She hugged herself, chilled, and his mocking laughter followed.

“Hey, cut it out.”

Grenville stepped in, unable to watch anymore. Miguel Santines scowled and snapped,

“You cut it out, Grenville. Dragging a busy man to 33rd Street and wasting my time with nonsense.”

He growled in annoyance.

“Spit it out. Who’s backing you?”

“Backing me…?”

“A noble lady of the Lancaster family wouldn’t call me without someone behind her. Tell me who’s so bold as to keep me waiting.”

Just then, the drawing room door opened and Blake entered.

“Sorry, I’m a bit late.”

“What the… You…! Blake Ryan?”

“Long time no see, Mr. Santines. How have you been?”

Blake took off his dark wool overcoat and smiled. Miguel Santines quickly lowered his legs from the table.

“Well… As long as you don’t call me like this, nothing much happens.”

He still acted arrogant, but his forced composure betrayed a hint of unease.

“Of course. Ryan Railways handled your transport request well last time.”

“Hmm. Hm.”

“I asked to meet today because I have a favor, but it seems you were already speaking with Miss Lancaster.”

Blake looked at the table marked by Santines’s footprints. Celia suddenly realized his eyes weren’t smiling. His lips wore a constant smile, but his gaze was icy.

“Really…”

Miguel Santines chewed his cigar and coughed.

“So you’re Lady Celia’s backer? What’s going on?”

“It just happened that way. As you know, I have a special affection for Evans Hotel.”

Blake shrugged and continued,

“I’m sure you’ve heard testimony is needed in Miss Lancaster’s trial. And I expect you’ll accept.”

“Hah.”

Miguel Santines laughed incredulously.

“I was just asking why I should go to court and testify. Why risk and bother, Ryan? Explain it to me.”

Blake shrugged.

“Because you’re a man of loyalty and honor.”

“What?”

“A generous, compassionate person like you wouldn’t refuse a lady in distress.”

James Grenville suppressed a bursting laugh, realizing Blake was teasing Miguel Santines. Celia was confused, and even Miguel Santines seemed a bit flustered.

“Well… I do want to help a lady in distress, but that’s not how things work.”

He made a round coin gesture with his plump fingers.

“Friendship—solidarity—isn’t built on goodwill alone.”

His expression stayed sour, despite the obvious gesture.

“Of course, Mr. Santines. I’m not asking for help without compensation.”

Blake pulled out a brochure.

“I think this will help you.”

Celia’s eyes widened.

[Ryan Railways, launching refrigerated trains]

‘Is he offering refrigerated transport rights?’

Blake was calm, though Celia was surprised.

“Ryan Railways will soon launch refrigerated trains. The first route is NS73, connecting the northern and southern New World.”

“The south?”

“Yes. I can ship all goods stamped by Santines Company to the south. Beef, bones, canned goods, and various… spices.”

Blake’s eyes grew intent as he finished. Miguel Santines stroked his plump chin, watching him.

“Hmm… So, ‘anything’ can be shipped south.”

Miguel Santines examined the brochure and nodded.

“…Fine. Let’s make a truce, Lady Celia.”

He lightly lifted Celia’s hand and kissed the back of it.

Celia was so stunned she forgot to respond. The thug who had mocked her moments before now acted like a proper gentleman, and the change was absurd.

Miguel Santines declared loudly,

“Then let’s celebrate our new friendship.”

He poured drinks and proposed a toast, biting off the end of his cigar with his yellow teeth.

As he searched for matches to light it, Blake said,

“Mr. Santines. Shall we toast outside?”

He took the matches and gestured to the window.

“The garden here is nice.”

＊  ＊  ＊

Two clinking whiskey glasses met.

“Thank you for accepting the offer, Mr. Santines.”

Blake smiled as he greeted him. Miguel Santines sighed with a laugh.

“You speak so politely.”

Offering a deal no one could refuse.

Ryan Railways had the best train manufacturing technology in the New World. So the refrigerated train would be wildly popular upon release. Who could turn down such valuable transport rights? Especially for Miguel Santines, who had plenty to hide under processed meat, it was a deal he couldn’t miss.

“Well, was I ever impolite?”

Blake chuckled, raising his whiskey glass.

“Right, you were always a bit too bold.”

Miguel Santines drank and continued.

“You acted like the 33rd Street crowd, as if you were better than the Fifth Avenue thugs.”

“I’m honored you noticed.”

Blake replied briefly, striking a match for his cigarette. Miguel Santines took the flame and looked up at Blake’s handsome face, tinged red in the light.

When did he grow so much?

He recalled Blake Ryan, who had struggled to sell even a single screw ten years ago.

The kid who carried two guns and was nicknamed ‘the Fifth Avenue Butcher’ had now grown enough to summon him to the annex on 33rd Street.

‘And now he’s expanding his influence across New Adams…’

Miguel drew deeply on his cigar, cheeks hollowing, and blew out thick smoke. He finally asked what he’d been wondering.

“Hey. What are you up to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why get involved with Evans Hotel?”

He lowered his voice.

“It’s dangerous. That day…”