Broken Queen (The Marked Blooms Syndicate #3)

Chapter 1

Zira

ten years earlier

Ever since I was a little girl, violence was a warm blanket to me.

My father was the director of a brutal secret society of rich men, and so, since the day I was born, I was expected to attend the Masquerades.

During these events, initiates and members demonstrated their loyalty to the Marked Blooms Syndicate by sacrificing the people they loved.

At age five, I saw a man bleed out while a crowd of men laughed.

At age seven, I watched a woman hung by her hair while the men took turns using a nightstick against her thighs.

At age ten, I witnessed my mother’s head falling into a basket.

There was nothing hidden behind violence; above all else, it was reliable, and that comforted me.

And right then, at age eighteen, I was on my hands and knees, strapped to a bench, completely frozen in place, while ‘the Dentist’ twirled his forceps through his fingers. But I never let fear control me. This was exactly what I expected, and a low heat buzzed in my stomach at that familiarity.

Because I felt nothing.

The forceps clamped down on my canine. Then, to tease me, the pincers released my tooth.

The Dentist’s lips pulled back to reveal his natural, white teeth.

His head was soft and round like a balloon, and completely hairless.

A black mask circled his eyes, and his breath stunk of mouthwash and cigarettes.

What exactly do you do when you’re a billionaire real estate developer with a tooth extraction fetish? You find a secret society that will let you indulge your desires with their loved ones, so long as you give the best sales to your fellow members.

“You ready, darling?” he purred. “Tell me, how much do you think this will hurt on a scale of one to ten?”

A dental gag pried my jaw open, my tongue flailing around like a fish flopping on a dock. The Dentist knew I couldn’t speak, and because of that, he loved asking questions like this.

On a scale of one to ten, tell me, Dentist, how much do you think it’s going to hurt when I kill you? I thought, a viciousness taking hold of me. I’m going to pry your teeth from your mouth and make you swallow them.

But my stomach hardened, a memory swirling inside of me. Pretend like you like it, my mother’s words echoed in my mind. Pretend like you love it. Like it’s exactly what you want to do.

I tried to smile over the gag, pretending like none of this bothered me. That was why I was his favorite; I was a challenge to break.

He ran his hand over my back, his brittle fingers running down my slit.

“Such a little lover of pain,” he said, the forceps gripping my canine again.

With that sharp pull, pain seared through my jaw, white stars filling my vision, knives stabbing through my skull and crawling to the back of my head.

A wail fled my body through that dental gag, the sound full of emptiness.

My jaw throbbed, each tendril of sharp pain curling toward my mouth, spreading its grip around my head.

The Dentist locked eyes with me, a grin on his lips.

“Did you like that, darling?” he asked.

Pretend like you’re devoted to the Syndicate more than your father. More than anyone else in the world, my mother’s advice kept screaming in my mind. They’ll like you too much. That’s how you avoid getting killed.

I forced my lips into a smile over that metal gag, like a clown with an eerily wide grin painted on its face.

Blood dripped over my dry lips, and conversation muttered in the background like faint music.

My father stood with a group of members, every person dressed completely in black.

Every year, my father insisted that he proved to the secret society—a secret society that our family led—that he was dedicated to the prosperity of the organization, even if that meant repeatedly sacrificing his ‘loved’ ones.

And because my mother was gone, that left me.

My father’s eyes flickered over me, then his nose twitched, and he continued his discussion, angling himself away from me.

The Dentist held up the forceps, the canine gripped in its claws.

The root of the tooth was like a fat finger pointing down, reprimanding me for breaking some unspoken rule.

I let my chin drop; blood gushed onto the ground, an achingly bitter taste on my tongue.

The Dentist dropped my tooth and I stared at it.

“You think you can give me one or two more tonight?” he asked. His hands wrapped around my hips, his nubby fingertips crawling up my spine. He rounded my back, then stroked a clammy finger down my slit. “I’m waiting, darling.”

“Juss uh,” I slurred. Just one. His hands left my skin and I froze. Metal clamps pinched the skin between my thighs, gripping onto my slit, a jolt of tension running through me.

“We could do this if you prefer,” he said.

“Naaaa,” I grunted. He chuckled as he circled, then knelt down in front of me. He clamped the forceps down on my other canine.

“Won’t have much bite after this, will you?” he laughed, then he pulled the forceps, wrenching my tooth out.

Sometimes, pain is so unreal that you lose consciousness.

There’s nothing in your brain that will help you survive it, knowing that the best way to keep going, is to force yourself out of the experience completely.

But there’s also a moment when your brain learns to become accustomed to it.

Even as I screamed, I could leave my body, seeing the world around me shift like a kaleidoscope.

The twisting images of the Dentist. My father lecturing on world domination to his colleagues.

My fiancé in the corner with his head in his hands, knowing that neither of us could do anything to stop the Dentist. This was my fate.

“That’s enough for tonight,” my fiancé said, bringing me back to earth. “Give her a rest. She’s done enough.”

Relief flowed through me. My fiancé, Logan, tall and statuesque as ever, pushed his father out of the way, then began untying me from the bench.

A white suit flattered his fit physique.

Like me, he had blond hair and blue eyes.

He kept his hair short and styled, and was permanently blushing like he was constantly embarrassed.

Like he didn’t know why he had to follow his father’s footsteps, but he knew he had to. I could relate to that.

He was the only person who had shown me kindness between these walls.

Once my hands were free, Logan removed the dental gag while the Dentist—Logan’s father—removed the bindings from my legs.

My jaw ached, my mouth sore, my lips chapped.

Easing myself to a sitting position on the floor, I slumped my shoulders, too tired to do anything.

Logan grabbed a handful of gauze and eased it into my mouth.

My two canines laid on the floor like two little chips of glass. A thick, grubby hand picked them up; the Dentist liked his souvenirs. Logan glared at him, then turned to me. He rubbed my back methodically, like it hurt him to watch me suffer.

“You’re so brave,” he said calmly. “I don’t know how you do it. You’re so incredible, babe.”

I rolled my eyes—his father was already a member; therefore, Logan would never have to be a sacrifice, unless his father wanted to prove something—but inside, I flushed with heat.

Logan was praising me, like he saw how much I was capable of.

And I almost believed him. I mean, I wanted to believe him.

He was one of the few people who looked at me like a person and not like an object everyone had dipped their hands inside.

“When we get married, you won’t have to worry about this,” he said, repeating the same soothing words he said every time. “Everything will be perfect. We’ll be members and you will never have to submit to this cruelty again.”

I blinked my eyes, trying to imagine that fate, but after nights like this, it seemed like a fantasy that would never come true.

But I still couldn’t lose sight of it.

“By then, you can get your own revenge,” Logan said.

“You can extract other people’s teeth. And it’ll be fun.

Delightful. A way for us to pass the time.

And this will just be a bad, bad memory.

” He leaned on me. “Zira Bloom, the heiress to the Marked Blooms Syndicate, and me, your faithful husband.”

I cocked a brow at him, holding the gauze to my face.

“Revenge—” I paused, the tenderness swelling through my jaw, my tongue lisping with the loss of teeth. I swallowed, then tried again: “Revenge would be doing all of that to your father,” I said.

Logan put a finger to his lips. “Don’t even think of my father. Think of everything you can do when you have that power. When you’re in charge.”

Sometimes, I thought that if I went willingly to these sacrifices like my mother had said, my father would see that I was as dedicated as he was.

But something inside of me always knew that it might not be enough.

I had to do more. I had to get on the board of the Syndicate somehow. And Logan was the key.

“I’ll protect you, Zira,” Logan said, cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “I’m not like your father. I won’t force you to be my sacrifice. I know my worth, and so will the Syndicate.”

My forehead furrowed, but the pain settled on my brow, so I forced myself to relax.

It almost sounded like Logan was insulting my father’s decisions.

And though I may not have liked having my teeth removed, I understood why my father did it.

I was the last person, still living, that he technically ‘loved.’ I was the only one he could use to prove his dedication.

I started, “If not me, then your father will use another woman—”

He put a finger to his lips again, then delicately pressed the gauze back into my mouth, silencing me.

“It’ll be a much different secret society one day,” he murmured. “We’ll change it. Together.”