Chapter 13
Hazard
“Do I have to do this?” I asked Zira. The suit was like being stuffed inside of a cardboard box. Supposedly, it was an expensive ‘designer’ outfit, but I couldn’t tell the difference. I hated pretentious shit like this. It made me itch to do something to fuck it all up.
And damn it—part of me didn’t want to fuck it up for Zira.
She tightened my tie. “The closer you are to the members of the Syndicate, the closer you will be to the board. And trust me, that means you’ll be closer to your sister’s killer.”
We were getting ready for some sort of event, an impromptu dinner that Daddy Bloom had put together, so the other members could get to know me. But her words stuck with me: if I was closer to my sister’s killer, then this was something I could tolerate.
“What did you find out about my sister?” I asked.
“Only that she was here when she died.”
I let those words sink in between us. It seemed odd that the daughter of a secret society’s director wouldn’t know everything she wanted to know about a murder that was directly related to her daddy’s group, but there was shit I didn’t understand about the Marked Blooms Syndicate.
When it came to her, I was ready to roll with it.
“Tonight is going to be fun,” she winked. “Tolerate the formalities, then we’ll get to other business. Our business. Now, that is our entertainment.”
But Zira was the only ‘entertainment’ I wanted.
“Will your daddy announce Logan is missing?” I asked.
“Or that there’s an open seat on the board.”
I picked her up by her ass, scooping her into my arms. A shiny purple ball gown with a square neckline and an asymmetrical skirt showed off those sexy heels, exposing her purple toenails.
She wrapped her legs around me, and I clutched her ass, her smooth, bare skin in my palms. No underwear for the wrong reasons, but damn it, I wouldn’t let another man touch her again.
Zira was mine.
“I should ruin you right now,” I said, slamming her onto the bed.
“No, don’t!” she squealed playfully. She straightened herself, then flattened her dress. “This is important.”
I fixed the lapels of my stiff jacket. If that’s what the queen wanted, then I’d save the debauchery for later.
A staff member drove us in an oversized golf cart down to the banquet hall, which was well lit this time, not like the dim oasis it had been for the Masquerade. And this time, no one wore a mask. It was only a dinner party for rich men. My goddamned nightmare.
Zira linked her arm into mine and pulled me into the nest. Some sort of steak was served, with tiny potatoes and a vegetable that I didn’t recognize. As the second glasses of wine were poured, Daddy Bloom stood up, clinking a fork against his glass.
“Gentlemen, thank you for coming,” he said.
I squeezed Zira’s thigh; why couldn’t Bloom add ‘and one lady’?
“I know this was a last-minute affair,” he continued, “but I am so pleased to see how many of you joined me tonight.”
“Get to the good bits, Gore,” one of the guests said. The other guests chuckled, and even Bloom himself laughed, his belly shaking with pleasure.
“Right, then,” Bloom said. He motioned off to the side. “Ernest, can you come join me?”
A thin, black-haired man stood up, then joined Daddy Bloom at the head of the table. Ernest Dumas, the other board member, and our next kill to get out of my queen’s way.
“As you all know, Logan has disappeared,” Bloom continued.
“We’re afraid he’s gone.” At those words, Bloom locked eyes with his daughter, the first time he actually acknowledged her that night, the fucking prick, but then Bloom continued to scan the crowd of guests.
“And when a tragedy like this happens, you do what is necessary. If you find yourself in a position where the best man comes forward for the job, demonstrating his worth, you seize the moment. You make him a part of the board.”
“Should be ‘her,’” I muttered to Zira. She jabbed me in the ribs to get me to shut up, but her half-smile told me she secretly appreciated the comment.
“And so, I’m pleased to announce our newest board member,” Bloom continued. He held his breath, bracing himself for something that could backfire.
Bloom held out an arm toward us.
“This ought to be good,” I whispered to Zira.
“Hazard Boucher,” Bloom said.
The applause started as the other members in the room turned toward me. Zira stiffened in her seat, but then she smiled widely and pushed me to stand.
“Go,” she said.
“What?” I asked. What the fuck was Bloom talking about?
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” She smacked me on the shoulder. “Get up there!”
I stood in a haze, making my way toward the front of the room. An unpleasant buzzing sensation swam through my veins, like I was watching myself walk without knowing what waited for me on the other side. That kind of thing normally excited me, but this was bullshit.
Zira’s lips were pulled back into a wide grin, as if nothing could go wrong.
But everything was wrong, and we both knew it.
I shook the black-haired man’s hand—Ernest—then shook Bloom’s hand too, my skin itching with needles. Fuck, I wanted to kill him. Bloom addressed the guests.
“Like Logan Astor, Boucher has shown so much promise already. And he comes with my daughter’s highest confidences.”
“But we haven’t seen him in action,” one of the members said.
“Yeah! Let’s host a Masquerade! Get acquainted with the fellow,” another member said.
“What an excellent idea. I’ll host it again,” Bloom said, adjusting his jacket. He faced me. “Is there anything you’d like to tell the group about yourself? I know it’s sudden, but my daughter is an excellent judge of character, and I trust that you’ll take the position seriously.”
I glanced around. These men looked like they had power. Crisp suits. Expensive watches. Oxford shoes. And at that moment, I looked like I fit in too. But everything I was wearing, besides my boxers, belonged to Zira. She had dressed me up like a doll to be a part of their world.
It wasn’t supposed to be me up here.
“Your daughter should have the position,” I said. “She’s the one who belongs on your board.”
Bloom chuckled loudly. “You are a dedicated man, aren’t you?” He smacked my back. “She’s very, very good for the Marked Blooms Syndicate, but what I need is a son.”
My chest crawled, bile forming in the back of my throat. He wanted a son? Like a son-in-law, or like he wanted me to fuck his daughter so that he would have a male heir?
All of it made me sick. Bloom saw me as an object to use, just like he used Zira. There had to be another reason behind it all.
Bloom handed me a small black phone. “This has the important information you need, including the contact for the security here. It only works with your fingerprints. Once you power it on, it’ll scan your fingertips.”
I nodded, but glared down at the thing like it was a bomb that might blow up any second. The whole thing disgusted me, but Zira bobbed her head eagerly, cheering me on, hollering over the chatter, as if she was a fangirl waiting in the wings. It wasn’t like her.
This had to bother her more than it bothered me.
A slew of members came over, asking me what I did for a living, what kinds of companies I owned, where I lived in Opulent Gates, and the lies that came out of my mouth were impressive enough for an acting award.
There was exhilaration in that; all of these people, Bloom included, thought I belonged here.
Or perhaps they knew I was full of shit and they wanted to see how much I could get away with. But my eyes kept following Zira.
This had to be heartbreaking for her.
She tapped her fingers against her sides, beaming at me like a beauty pageant contestant with petroleum jelly smeared on her teeth.
I braced myself for the worst. It was the ones who hid their emotions behind a smile that were the hardest to placate.
It was easier to get rid of the people who got in your way, or to avoid that shit all together.
And yet, I had to say something. Had to figure out what she was thinking.
“You okay?” I asked.
“This is great,” she said, her voice higher pitched than usual. “This is exactly what we wanted.”
“We?” I said. “Did you put your dad up to this?”
A forced cackle burst from her mouth; it might as well have been a pre-recorded track for a crappy comedy. She tilted her head to the side.
“All I did was tell my father how amazing you are. He did the rest,” she said.
“But what about the board? That’s what you want. The seat I have—”
“Don’t talk too loudly.”
I growled. “They know how I feel. This is stupid. You—”
Zira grabbed my arm and pulled me across the banquet hall, down one of those long hallways. She steered us to a room off to the side with a sofa and a coffee bar, then closed the door shut behind us.
“We just have to get rid of Ernest,” she said in a low voice. “He’s the other key member. Once he’s dead, you’ll have fifty percent of the vote. You and my father can elect me.”
I studied her for a moment. Why hadn’t she attacked me? She should have accused me of being in on some grand scheme with her father, and instead, she was acting like everything was fine.
It was almost like I could trust her, knowing we could figure it out together, even when shit got real.
But it unnerved me. Why wasn’t she freaking out?
She clicked her teeth, those perfect dental implants gleaming in the light. None of those negative emotions showed, but it had to be a performance.
“You know what?” she said, tapping her nails against her sides again. “I can’t give you your sister’s killer. Couldn’t find his name. Sorry.”
I furrowed my brows. “Shit.”
“But I can give you her husband. He’s the man who offered her as a sacrifice at the Masquerade.”
My world swung to a stop. That grin was still plastered on her face, perfectly even.
“Ernest Dumas,” she said.
* * *
Zira