Chapter 2 #2
“Let me deal with the bureaucracy,” Logan murmured. “You do what you do best.”
I cocked my head to the side, ready for his flattery. “And what is that?”
“Being my wife.”
A vein engorged in my neck, making my throat pulse with anger. I held my chin high. The glass was like a small dagger in my hands, and once it had a broken, jagged edge, I’d be able to do some actual damage. God, I wanted to see him bleed right then, but I refused to get my hands dirty.
“You want me to sit back and be your wife?” I asked.
“Oh, come on,” he mumbled. “You know it’s not like that.”
Another member waved, coming toward us to congratulate Logan. Logan greeted the man. I tore myself away from them, knowing that if I stayed any longer, I might literally bite off my husband’s head.
Be his wife. Like that was the only job I was capable of.
If you get on the board, you can have all of your father’s power, my mother had said. You can change the lives of so many women that come after you.
I sure as hell wasn’t going to let my precious husband get in my way.
As I spun around, my heart pounded in my rib cage and I narrowed in on my father’s red face.
His cheeks puffed as he saw me, and that pompous stomach hung over his belt.
He dismissed the men he was speaking to as I came forward.
His fingertips dragged across my back and a prickle of tension rolled down my spine, bringing back unwanted memories.
Bile in my throat. Bent over. Staring at the ground. Waiting for him to finish.
I swallowed and straightened myself. Now that I was married to Logan, he wouldn’t touch me like that anymore. He was loyal in a way; you had to respect that.
“Father,” I said. “There are two open seats on the board, correct?”
“Yes,” he said, a sneer in his voice. “Why?”
“Logan and I are your only logical choices,” I said, tipping my head to the side.
A savannah dried the inside of my mouth as I tried to formulate my words.
I couldn’t fail now. “I’ve done so much for the Syndicate.
Secured partnerships. Found new members.
Even got that deal with the pharmaceutical company—”
“And you meddle, Zira,” my father said. “Just like your mother.”
I gritted my teeth, a coldness sweeping through me. My father had probably arranged to have my mother killed; it was no sacrificial coincidence.
But that didn’t matter right then. I simply needed him on my side.
“Every action I’ve ever done has only put the Syndicate in a better position than before,” I said firmly. “And you know it.”
He flexed his fingers, one by one, then flattened his black shirt. His mask was plastered to his skin, making him the epitome of a has-been superhero.
“When I don’t keep a close eye on you, it’s chaos. And now I’ve got two board members’ spots to fill, and you helped make sure of that, Zira. You think I’m going to let you on the board?”
“I’m the only blood you have left in the family,” I snapped. “When you die, who’s going to watch over the Syndicate?”
“Give Logan a son and we won’t have to worry about that.”
It was always about the bloodline, but I refused to have a child. I wasn’t going to bring anyone—man or woman—into this world. Not unless there were some changes.
I reveled in violence. I needed the blood, the flesh smeared beneath my feet. It was what kept me going. But I needed power too.
“Or give me the next seat,” I said.
My father let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. “I will consider it,” he said. My fingers twitched at my sides, my head aching. It was his way of dismissing the subject. It wasn’t a win, so much as a pass, for now.
I glared around the room, searching for some poor soul to be the victim of my angry outburst, to prove to the rest of the members that I did have it in me. I could hurt someone, just like they hurt me.
My father grabbed my wrist and every hair on my body stood on end.
“Don’t do something you’ll regret, Zira,” he said in a clipped tone, tightening his grasp. “If you want that seat on the board, you must behave.”
He dangled the seat in front of me like a treat in front of a dog, promising the greatest rewards. Was it simply a way to keep me in line?
Even if it was, I couldn’t let go of the chance. My blood boiled, veins throbbing all over my chest like a poisonous spider web. Desperate thoughts rang in my ears.
No one had ever been on my side. Not the Syndicate. Not my husband. Not even my father.
I stormed out of the banquet hall, letting the night air cool my face.
The breeze whipped my dress to the sides of my legs.
I needed to reapply my makeup; most of it had come off during the sacrifice.
The supplies shed—which was actually a two-story building used for maintenance and other staff—glowed in the distance, the new pool gleaming to the side of it.
Not a soul was out here. Everyone was in the banquet hall, enjoying the Masquerade.
And here I was, staring out into my family’s property. A grandchild was probably the only reason my father kept me around. But I wasn’t going to give him that. It was my way of dangling a treat in front of him.
I kicked off my heels, letting the wet grass tickle my feet.
Underneath the lawn was an underground tomb of the Marked Blooms Syndicate’s victims. Over the more recent years, many of the victims had been exterminated by other means, but when it came to the contract killings my father ordered, or a sacrifice who had died during the Masquerades, they came here to rest. Almost as if my family needed proof to show the world how much destruction we were capable of.
Sometimes, it felt like the corpses in the ground were the only ones who would get it. People who had died for this stupid organization. You give your life to a secret society, hoping that one day, you’d have that power you’d always wanted. Life would be easier. Simpler.
Instead, you end up in the ground, silent and useless.
My eyes burned as I gazed back at the banquet hall.
I should have given up. Should have known that my father and Logan were never going to take me seriously.
But I knew what my mother would say: I know you like to have fun, you little puppet master, but you need to play by the rules.
Still, as the debauchery unfolded behind those windows like a parade of sin, I was empty.
All I could think about was going back to that guillotine.
In the window, the sharp, angular blade reflected the red lights, but the room itself was lifeless. How many clicks would it take for the blade to fall again?
I could count and see.
I walked toward the building, determination in my step. If not me, then I’d find someone else and have my own fun. I didn’t care who died; I just wanted to see it happen.
“The view is better out here,” a raspy male voice said.
I swung around; a man with red hair and bright brown eyes stood to the side, leaning against a tree.
His pale shoulders glowed under the moonlight, a faded white scar crossing his forehead.
His white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his hard pectorals and tight muscles.
“Trust me. You’re better off without those assholes anyway. ”
I raised a brow. “And what makes you any better?”
He smirked, then moved his chin to the side. “We both know there’s nothing interesting going on in there. You were the only one, and now, you’re out here.”
I slid my lips together, focusing on him.
His flattery was oiling me up, but I was smart enough to know that every compliment had a hidden intention ruminating behind it.
His masculine musk traveled through the fragrance of the magnolia trees, reminding me of eucalyptus and sweat.
The bright red hair on his head was dulled by the darkness, but it was wavy and thick, just long enough to run your fingers through it.
He cracked his thumb knuckles by pressing them together, then opened his jaw wide, a loud pop echoing between us, like he was double-jointed.
Or perhaps he was a snake, widening his mouth to swallow his prey whole.
I recognized him. He had been working in my father’s quarters for a while now. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
“You’re the new contractor,” I said. “Doing the remodeling for my father.”
“And you’re the queen,” he said.
My upper lip twitched. Facial hair lined his jaw, cut short enough to be stubble, nothing more. His bottom lip was slightly thicker than his top, and his brown eyes glimmered with the reflection of the buildings. He kept buttering me up, like he knew I had something he wanted. I narrowed my eyes.
“My father had my business coach killed for getting too close to me,” I said. “Be careful about where you put your nose.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” he said, taking a step closer, “but your father doesn’t know I’m here right now.”
A few silent moments passed between us, filling the open air with a dense tension, making it hard to breathe.
He was a contractor, hired by my father, which meant that he had to pass a rigorous background check.
But instinct told me that those rules didn’t apply to this man.
Everyone could be bought or sold, and I knew that he must have done just that.
He clicked his thumb’s knuckle together again, like he couldn’t stay still. He snapped his jaw open, the pop ripping through me.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Hazard,” he said, grabbing my hand. He bent down and kissed it, like he was literally addressing royalty. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Queen Zira.”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you want?”
“How nice of you to ask,” he said. He gestured around. “You know what my motto is?”
That the best way to manipulate people is through flattery?
I blinked slowly. “What?”
“Everything can be taken from you in an instant. A bullet in the brain. One pill more than you intended. A slice of a blade right across your carotid artery.” He dragged his finger across my neck as if his hand was the mouton of a guillotine, holding the blade ready to decapitate me.
Chills ran down my spine. “You see, love, with a party like this, I couldn’t miss one of these while I had access to the property. ”
I held my teeth together, keeping my posture straight. There was an opportunity, and Hazard grabbed it. I liked that; I would do the same.
“But the real question is,” he added, “what do you want, my queen?”
My pulse increased, and I squinted, like his motive would be revealed if I studied him hard enough.
But he remained the same; a muscular red headed man with brown eyes and a permanent smirk on his face.
His jaw popped again, then his lips went back to their stern, yet amused, expression.
The atmosphere thickened between us, like the air right before a storm breaks.
Hazard knew I could have him killed if I wanted.
I already had an assassin indebted to me personally, and that wasn’t counting the rest of the contract killers I had access to through the Marked Blooms Syndicate.
But Hazard didn’t care.
“I’ve got something to show you,” he said. He motioned to his side. “Come with me, love.”
If I stayed at the Masquerade, the rest of the night would be the same, listening to members congratulating my husband, while I politely nodded, pretending like I wasn’t furiously jealous of him.
Why not follow this strange man into the darkness?
I matched his footsteps through the grass, then he verged to the side, heading toward the supplies shed. A ladder was propped on the back of the building. He climbed up, and I followed, my bare feet curling against the metal bars.
On the top of the roof, a sleek sniper rifle was aimed at the banquet hall. Hazard bent down, peering through the scope, then tapped his side for me to join him. I scowled at the implication that I’d come to him like a dog.
“You can take out anyone. They won’t even know what hit them,” he said.
Irritation evaporated from my mind as my body flushed at those words.
At one point, someone had suggested that my father replace the windows with bulletproof glass, but he was far too proud to change a building that had been in our family’s history for years.
He was too confident in his invincibility.
I kneeled down, the roof tiles slick on my skin.
Inside the crossed scope, there was a man and a woman.
Logan’s bright blond hair and a dainty brunette.
His fingers wrapped around her hips as he thrust inside of her.
Beauty marks speckled her back like a constellation.
I understood why he was attracted to her. I didn’t fault him for that.
But we were supposed to be faithful. That’s what our marriage contract said. It was part of how we were connected to the Syndicate.
Power swelled within me as I played with the trigger, the metal subtly shifting under the pressure of my finger.
All it would take was one little thrust of my finger, and he’d be gone.
I lowered the scope, aiming at his chest, barely above the brunette’s soft little head. Logan pulled out, erupting on her back.
I let go of the trigger. Angling the scope, I found a man in the back of the room, his expression full of dread. He was dressed in white. Logan was participating in another initiate’s sacrifice, then. Messing around with the little brunette didn’t count on the night of a Masquerade.
Goddamn loopholes. I wanted to shoot him anyway. Stand around and be his wife? Why don’t you stop screwing everything that moves, husband?
But I wasn’t the kind of woman to get my hands dirty. Blooms manipulated other people to do the work for them. It was why my mother urged me to get on the board and actually do something about this mayhem.
But sometimes, I wanted to do the killing myself.
I pulled back from the scope. “Who would you kill?” I asked.
But there was no answer. Hazard was gone, leaving me with the rifle on the rooftop. The gun was still in my hands. Power vibrated through me.
Hazard had given that to me, but he had still left me alone.