Chapter 4 Zira #3
If Logan wasn’t socializing in the main ballroom with the other members, then he was having a private conversation, and I intended to be a part of it.
I checked the first room; nothing. The next and the next proved empty as well.
It was like I was going mad, wandering deeper into a funhouse of mazes without any clear escape.
But then a moan echoed down the corridor. A woman’s moan.
I completely stilled, waiting for that primal noise to continue. Even when it wasn’t an official Masquerade, members liked to run off with their mistresses here, but I had been the only woman in attendance at the dinner; I wasn’t quite sure what I was walking into.
She whimpered this time and my pulse raced. I stopped, taking off my stilettos to minimize the noise, then walked barefoot, my dress dragging on the floor.
“God, you’re so good,” she said.
And there she was. Her brown hair running down her back like she belonged deep in the forest. Logan’s eyes flickered from her full breasts to me in the doorway, but he immediately went back to her. Like he didn’t care that I saw.
She was everything I wasn’t. Sweet and stable. Dark-haired and carefree. Perhaps she was exactly what Logan needed. A match made in heaven.
And I was the devil ruining their love.
My hands shook, my teeth grinding, my throat dry as each rushed breath came out of my mouth.
“Oh, babe!” Logan said, still thrusting inside of her. “This is Caroline.”
My fingers twitched at my side. She had a name. Caroline. That was good. At least he knew that much.
“Caroline,” I said sharply. “Nice to meet you.”
“I figured you knew,” Logan groaned with each pump of his hips. “We have an understanding, right, babe?”
My vision tunneled until it was just the two of them.
I imagined Logan’s neck in a noose, his spine snapped in half as he swayed in the wind.
Or would a bullet be better? A hole blasting into his skull like an asteroid drilling into the earth.
I fixated on those brutal images, but no matter how long I focused on them, imagining those violent deaths, he kept fucking her.
Humiliating me. Proving that he didn’t care what I thought. He simply expected me to do the same.
And yet, I had rejected a hot staff member—Hazard—to be loyal to my husband. My cheating, unfaithful, son of a bitch husband.
I should have fucked Hazard when I had the chance.
I stomped down the corridor, my shoes dangling from my fingertips.
Finally, as if realizing the gravity of the situation, Logan rushed after me, but he never made it past the corridor.
He couldn’t be caught running naked after his wife when he had just been selected to be a board member of the Marked Blooms Syndicate. That would show weakness.
A few members tried to start conversations with me, but I held up my hand, stopping them.
There were so many people I could’ve fucked.
Sacrifices I had dipped my fingers into, but resisted because I wanted to be good.
Loyal. Respectful. It was always enough to participate and show my appreciation for the sacrifices, but never enough to go against my vows to Logan, the man who had saved me from my father’s touch.
A gentle squeeze of a breast. A taste of a neck.
Trust me—oh, trust me, I wanted to do more, but I always told myself that if I played the role of the honorable wife and daughter, always giving more to the Syndicate, that I would be rewarded.
Even the contractor hired to renovate my father’s quarters had actually aroused interest in me for the first time in years, and yet, I had turned him down. To play the role of a good wife. An obedient daughter who didn’t screw her father’s hirees.
It was utterly humiliating.
I wanted to kill my husband.
Outside, I stomped through the grass. The magnolia trees were constantly in bloom here, budding, then blooming, budding, then blooming—in love with our perfect climate. Usually, their fragrance blended in with the atmosphere, but right then, it made my head spin.
I thought about that member who had smacked the server’s ass at the beginning of the dinner. Marc DuBois. I couldn’t kill the people I wanted to kill—I still needed Logan so that I could potentially be his puppet master wife—but I could have a little fun.
I called up one of my contacts—an assassin who often did personal contract killings for me. It wasn’t the best idea to kill off a Syndicate member, but lately, I had been particularly starving for chaos.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“Marc DuBois,” I said. “Make it a good show. His eyes and his hands,” I paused, clicking my tongue. “I want them.”
“Done,” the assassin said.
“And film it for me. I want to watch it this time.” Then I hung up.
A golf cart waited in the trees, but I cast my eyes on the two-story supplies shed. The closest weapon was on the roof. Maybe I could get my hands dirty for once.
I threw my shoes and ran toward it, holding my dress in my palms. The ladder lay in the grass, so I ambled it over to the side of the building. Making my way up, I held my breath as I reached the top wrung, then stepped onto the rooftop.
My heart fell to my stomach. Roofing tiles laid in perfect lines, but there was nothing else to see. The sniper rifle was gone.
“And so she crawls back to me,” a gravelly male voice said.
A white button-up shirt with three buttons undone hung on Hazard’s shoulders, hinting at his freckled skin.
The shirt was paired with worn blue jeans, with stains that were so vulgar, they became utterly enticing.
Spice wafted up to my nose, mixed with his heady masculine scent. “Looking for something, Bloomy?”
“Where’s the rifle?” I demanded.
He beamed with excitement, a crooked canine to the side of his grin. Maybe that’s what drew me to him. That imperfection. He wasn’t hiding behind lies like I was. Hazard was absolutely everything he claimed to be.
“Tell me why you want the rifle, and maybe I’ll tell you where it is,” he said.
I scratched my scalp. I didn’t open up to anyone; it was better to keep everything guarded so that no one could use your truths against you. And how could I ever begin to explain the intricacies of being a secret society director’s only daughter to a contractor?
He pulled a handgun from behind his back, showing it to me as if it were a medal of honor. I recognized it: dark gray with a black engraving of my last name, Bloom. It was from my father’s nightstand.
My father wasn’t having his bedroom remodeled. Hazard was snooping in there too.
“How about this?” he said. “I’ll give you this pretty thing, but first, you’ve got to tell me why such a perfect little gem like yourself is upset.”
I planted my bare feet wide, bracing myself. A guttural roar ripped from my throat.
I didn’t give a fuck about hiding anymore.
“I give my life to this Syndicate,” I said.
“I married the man my father wanted me to marry. When my father and husband wanted me to, I participated in every single sacrifice without questioning them. And what do I get?” Blood throbbed in my ears, my head pulsing with pain.
“A slap in the face. Being told that I was lucky to have a husband who was on the board. And then, come to find out, that same husband is cheating on me with my exact opposite!” I cackled, forcing out a fake laugh, trying hard not to scream.
“He’s probably been screwing her for months now! ”
I curled each finger into a fist slowly, imagining squeezing their necks.
But it wasn’t Caroline’s fault. She was simply having an affair with a wealthy, powerful man; I could never blame her for that, especially when the wealthy man was good at saying things that made you feel special.
And I admit that when I was younger, much younger, I thought Logan was a prince too.
He was so nice and respectful; it was hard to resist him.
But I knew better now. And if I had to, then I was going to use him for everything he was worth.
“Loyalty doesn’t get you power,” I said, gazing at the banquet hall. “The only way to get power is to conquer people. You force them to kneel. You show them they’re nothing without you. That’s the only way you make it in this world.”
Hazard stood behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders.
His fingers were long and bony, like claws tearing into my shoulders, but as he applied pressure, a warm sensation crawled through me.
His jaw clicked in my ear, but for the first time, instead of being mildly disturbed, it calmed me, like it was his way of saying, It’s all right.
“So take back your throne, love,” he said.
Frustration, arousal, and confusion fell over me in hot waves. I was edgy, desperate for action, to do anything to get my mind off of everything being torn away from me.
And Hazard wanted me to take back my throne?
“If you need to conquer those enemies, then do it,” he added as he wrapped his hands around me and placed the gun in my hands.
The gun’s weight was like a human head weighing down a scale. I had never killed before. Instead, I had ordered other people to kill for me.
And right then, more than anything, I wanted Hazard to kill Logan.
“Have you done it before?” I asked.
“Given my queen a weapon so she can rightfully get back what belongs to her? No,” he said playfully. “Killed people?” he paused, pressing his lips against my ear. “Yes.”
There was something so erotic about the way he said that. Hazard didn’t care about getting involved with taking another person’s life. He wasn’t obsessed with being perfect and following the rules like a good, honest child. He had no desire to keep his hands clean.
Hazard did as he pleased.
“Is that how you got here?” I whispered. “By killing people to get the placement?”
He pressed up against me, his cock biting through his jeans, hungry for more.
“Is that what you want to hear, love?”
I wasn’t sure what I wanted his answer to be, but I wanted to know everything about Hazard.
In many ways, he was different from me, but he called to this longing deep inside of my core that wanted to do something destructive by myself for once.
To do something horrible and have everyone bow down before me, begging me for mercy.
He cocked his chin to the side. “Your father thinks he hired a man named Chris Cox. Do I look like a ‘Chris Cox’ to you, Bloomy?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. He could have been a Chris Cox, but the name Hazard fit him so well, like a warning flashing in the night. A bright yellow triangle telling me to stop in my tracks. Cautionary words that I should listen to, but refused to hear.
Hazard was dangerous, not because he had hurt me in any way, but because he called to that tendril inside of me that wanted to be dangerous too. And that was a threat against everything I had been pining for.
The banquet hall cast a dim light in our direction, shimmering against his red hair.
I raised the gun, aiming it at his heart, and his lips pulled back into a smile, as if daring me to do it. Blood thrummed in my ears. Hazard didn’t care what I did; he just wanted to see what happened when I had the power in my hands. He even gave it to me.
I liked that.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, love,” he said. “Trust me. Once you get a taste of blood, you’ll never be able to give it up.”
I dropped the gun to my side, then stepped closer. I wanted to kill Logan and my father; that was the honest truth. But Blooms never got their hands dirty. They arranged things so that other people got messy for them. That was what a true leader did.
And perhaps that’s why I liked Hazard. I could use him to do my best work for me.
“You want a taste of me, don’t you?” I said. “You think giving me my father’s gun will give you that?”
He licked his lips. “You’re tempting the devil in me,” he said. “You know that.”
Elation mixed with curiosity swelled in my chest, tingling like a sac of spider eggs ready to burst. I headed toward the ladder. Then, facing him, I lifted the gun in the air.
“I’m going to keep this,” I said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s yours,” he said, fanning his arms out as he bowed toward me, still standing on the roof. “And just like that gun, I am yours, my queen.”
At that, I gave him a real, genuine smile. Hazard was so full of shit. Completely and almost pathetically trying to get me to like him simply by flattering me and tempting me through violence. I could see his game as clearly as I saw the moon in the sky, because I played that game myself.
He’d be useful one day.