CHAPTER NINETEEN
GAGE
“T erms?” Jared hums curiously as I lean into Ainsley and hiss, “What the fuck are you doing?”
She clenches her jaw and subtly waves me off. That snarky response will be branded on her, in the form of my pink palm print on her ass, for the rest of the week. So damn stubborn. She’s fierce and smart, but she has no idea what she’s doing.
“You’re interested in negotiating a partnership?” Payne reiterates, glancing at Wells to see if he was aware of this.
I sit breathless, plotting my next move while watching a plane, carrying my whole damn world, crash and burn. Hoping to hell someone pulls back on the yoke before we all nosedive into a fiery demise.
Wells ping-pongs his gaze between Wicked and me and back to Payne. “Ainsley has a lot of strengths. Some amount of negotiation should have been expected, considering what she can do for us.”
That’s his crafty way of controlling the situation. He’s always toeing the line between KORT chair and our family guide. It’s a harrowing tightrope walk. Still, he should be shutting this down.
“And this negotiation means you’d be disputing Gage’s claim on you?” Axel asks, his demeanor far more solemn than it was moments ago.
“It means I’d like to secure my rights and protection separately. What I’m offering earns that.” Ainsley is so confident, so well-spoken, clearly born to head a table like that.
If I didn’t want to strangle her, I’d be fucking proud.
Ivy surveys the scene, but doesn’t interject anything. Maybe she’s envisioning the same treacherous descent I am and determining when the best time to intervene is.
I’m guessing Ty and Liam are too. Both are scrutinizing the room—Ainsley, me, the body language of every knight. No doubt stressing. We all know what this means.
“So, the relationship status is …” Jared questions.
“Private,” Ainsley replies.
Jesus Christ. That arrogant sass is going to get her shot right here in this cathedral. The line between being viewed as a confident haggler and a tedious threat is thin.
“Nothing is private in matters of KORT,” Jared amends, his brow cocked in warning.
“Understood.” She pauses there—a boardroom pause that keeps the members parched, thirsty for the next drop. “But that’s due to the proof of loyalty, correct?”
A hush falls over the sanctuary. I’d be willing to bet they’re all deliberating on whether she knows there is a loyalty test, which would be seen as a breach of the bylaws on our part. She doesn’t. Not unless she’s pieced it together. Wicked does like puzzles.
Finally, their shoulders relax. It was twenty or thirty seconds, tops, but it stretched out like a lifetime. Regardless, it seems they dismissed that notion.
“Yes.” Payne’s mouth flattens, denoting how conflicted he is. “And frankly, you are living with two KORT chairs. So, even without the marriage, your loyalty would be a concern.”
“Precisely why being claimed is unnecessary.” She nods eagerly, as though they stumbled right into the trap she set. “You already own me. You could end me in one phone call. If not with the Morellis and Vittoris, then with the FBI. We all know that.”
“And you could oust our organization to secure your freedom,” Axel objects. He may be new to KORT, but he’s no stranger to the cost of ensuring someone doesn’t nark. It’s their founding principle at La Lune Noire.
“I could,” she agrees, her hands still clutching mine in her lap. “But I’d die the second the sun hit my face, if not long before in a cell. Another fact we’re all aware of.”
That’s what does it. The shift in the air is palpable, like the molecules are in a frenzy—as frantic as I am that I’m going to lose her.
Jared studies me for a beat before returning to Ainsley, a trace of empathy marring his features. “You realize that if you choose this route, your protection is contingent upon the success of your offering, whatever we determine that to be?”
And there it is—if she fails, she’ll be neutralized.
That’s my final straw.
“With all due respect”—I fling my arm into the air as I bolt out of my chair—“if everyone could just. Fuck. Off. We have never consulted with anyone about their feelings or approval of being claimed. Hearing her out was more than adequate. Let’s move the fuck on.”
None of the people in this room are weak. All would annihilate an enemy without blinking. Most would kill a friend without losing a single wink of sleep if they felt that friend had betrayed them. But that doesn’t make me any less intimidating to them. Everything I’ve done to sculpt my menacing presence was with that purpose in mind.
Because after we were erased, I realized I would never have a name like Morelli or Vittori. The clout. The leverage. The ability to steal any treasure I wanted. But I could achieve those things with an angel-of-death facade. No matter what name a man bears, he pisses his pants when I charge for him. I’ve never asserted even a fraction of that with the KORT chairs. But I will for her.
Scorch. Stack. Salt.
Payne raises a palm to me, aware that I’m two seconds from bringing the whole damn church down. “This is a complex situation—”
“Christ Almighty, shut the fuck up and listen,” I bellow, rancorous venom boiling in my veins. They throb beneath my hot skin. “How about some goddamn respect?” I throw my hand toward my girl. Mine. “You want her help, you go through me. Like I would have to do as this organization’s number one enforcer if I needed something from one of your claimed women.” My thunderous tenor ricochets off the rafters. “Which she fucking was before we walked in here.”
Ainsley rises beside me, and in a perplexing move, she clasps her hand over mine. Denying me, stomping on my heart, throwing herself to the wolves, and yet tenderly embracing me. “While Gage makes a valid point, brought about by precedent, you touted that you were an organization with integrity. That you valued the sanctity of relationships. You’ve got a woman at the helm. But if I, or any other woman or partner, don’t have a say in these matters, then this is nothing more than an upscale take on human trafficking.”
Fucking hell. She knows how to push buttons.
That garners gasps and groans from every soul present. But it’s Ivy who finally speaks.
“She has a point.” Her eyes land on me with a plea. She’s imploring me to listen. “Your outrage is justified. That is the way we’ve always conducted these matters. But as Payne began saying, this particular situation is complex and possibly a reason to reevaluate the way we’ve done things. And—”
“Excuse us,” I announce to the room as I grip Ainsley’s arm, realizing the war I need to wage isn’t with KORT. It’s solely with her.
“Take five,” Jared grants, as if I were willing to wait for approval.
I am in no frame of mind to ask for permission for anything.
“Outside. Now,” I order her.
To my utter shock, she doesn’t resist. Wise. I was prepared to throw her over my shoulder if necessary.
Hand in hand with my reason for breathing, I tromp out through the hefty wooden doors that lead to the small chapel behind the sanctuary. The same room I paced in during Rena’s trial. Helpless. Gutted. Ready to blow this place to smithereens.
Fitting .
As soon as the doors swoosh closed behind us, I pin her to the wall. “Why the fuck are you doing this? We agreed to hold on.”
She scoffs, her Arctic blues rolling, like I’m spewing nonsense. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“This should be fucking good,” I snipe, waiting on bated breath for her twisted logic. “Refusing to admit to a relationship with me is holding on?”
“You know who doesn’t need to—or get to—hold on, Gage?” She halts her snark until she tracks the arch in my brows. “Someone who’s chained.”
I spin away from her, scrubbing my hands over my face and groaning when what I need is to scream. To go on a rampage. To decimate everything that is always in our goddamn way. There is a small part of me that hears what she’s getting at. But … no.
Turning back to her, I gesture to the sight of her most recent rebellion. “That’s not what this is. This is me taking care of you. Do you have any idea what they do to their associates who fail?”
“I have plenty of ideas.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “They seem more creative than my father was, but the end result would be the same. You remember who my father was, right? How ruthless he was? How he shot George in front of me? Don’t you come at me like I am some naive girl who doesn’t know this world. I have lived it. Owned it. Escaped it.” She balks at that, arms flying out in defeat. “Kind of.” But then she regains her spark. “I’ve earned the right to decide what my next step is.”
“Even if it’s toward the grave?” I grit out.
She shrugs, irritated. “Yeah.”
For a beat, I simply drink her in. Transfixed.
Her riotous chocolate waves are half pulled back for a more professional look. A few brown wisps frame her face, mixed with delicate ribbons of honey, which only accentuate her spellbinding blue eyes. Her full, pouty lips are painted red to match the lacy bra that displays the swell of her breasts. She’s … everything .
And she’s fucking killing me.
Stepping back into her, I crowd her, soaking in her citrus-and-sea fragrance and praying I can convince her, invade her the way she does me. While one hand cradles her jaw, the other binds her wrists. Though she doesn’t squirm in my hold, her breath hitches—her body shouting a different story than what she told in that room.
My lips move against her ear, my scruff scratching her cheek—something I know she’s fond of. “Of course you’ve earned the right to make choices. You were brilliant in there, Ains. You could run that table if you wanted. And I will gladly stand by your side and support any opportunity you decide to pursue. But you need to go back in there and tell them you’ve changed your mind, you accept the claiming, and we’ll face anything they want from you together.”
Her head tilts a fraction of an inch so she can take me in, her icy blues melting into a puddle of torment when she whispers, “Not the claiming,” through a choppy breath.
She might not see it, but this is history repeating itself.
“Why?” I rasp, steadying my voice so I don’t incite her into a battle of wills. “This is too risky.”
She rolls her lips in as her gaze frolics all over me. “The highest stake I’m looking at right now is us. That’s what is most important to me.”
A relieved exhalation billows out of me. “Exactly.”
“And this—if you insist on this—it will destroy us,” she adds.
My heart shatters—a million fractured pieces, composed of old and new wounds, caused and repaired at the hands of the girl in my arms. “You don’t want to marry me.”
“That’s not it.” She shakes her head. Adamant. Still, her spine snaps, instantly rigid. “But if we’re going there, it would have been nice to have a heads-up. I’m not a picky girl. I don’t need an extravagant proposal or even you down on one knee. Maybe just a, Hey, Ains. We’re going to need to change your name when we erase you anyway, so how about taking mine? ”
A stilted chuckle puffs out of me as I release her wrists. “I’ll give you that one. We had a great few days, and I didn’t want to argue about it. I thought this might be smoother. Stupid, but it’s not like I don’t have … Let’s not get sidetracked.” I plant my arm against the wall, above her head, while the knuckles of my other hand graze over her cheek. “If it isn’t the marriage, then what? Why would it destroy us?”
“I can’t be owned by you,” she admits.
And her excruciating past flashes before me. But that also means she’s lumping me in with her slimy, dead husband, Nick. I don’t fucking deserve that.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” she insists.
I reel back from her, suddenly needing space. This chapel is … stifling. I sympathize with her need to be in control, but I don’t know how castrating me here empowers her. It only amounts to both of us being thrust into the line of fire.
The door squeaks open, and Ivy pops her head in, eyeing us both. “It’s time.”
“One minute,” I tell her, and once the door inches shut, I press into Ainsley again. “What if you denying me this or putting yourself in danger destroys us anyway? Because this conversation is eerily like the one we had before I lost you last time. When I should have dragged you out of town, kicking and screaming.”
If I had, we might not have lost … so many things.
“Yeah, it is,” she concurs, her chin wobbling a little. “But I’m not that girl, and you’re not that guy. This time, we hold on.”
She shimmies out from beneath me, but I grab her arm, yanking her back to me until we’re glued together, my arm around her waist and my other hand cupping the back of her head.
I kiss her temple—a gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to the ire surging through my bones. “You do what you need to in there, Wicked. Be the force I know you to be, but don’t ask me to be someone I’m not. I don’t need KORT to sanction me claiming you for it to be true. No matter where we are, this life or the next, this fucked-up world or the pits of Hell, you’re mine. I’ll move Heaven and earth to be sure of it. And I’ll never let you go. Remember that when we’re in there.”
With that, she blows out a staggered breath and saunters back into the sanctuary, where everyone is seated and ready. I follow behind, my heart seemingly departed from my body. Flailing and flopping around so erratically that I can’t fill my empty lungs. I’m not sure I ever will again.
“Have we settled on how we’re going to proceed?” Jared asks.
Ainsley picks up right where she left off, like a freight train intent on steamrolling anyone unwilling to take a ride. “I’d like to move forward with the negotiations. Why don’t you lay out the expectations, and I’ll name my terms?”
Payne smiles with a quick jerk of his head, which affirms they are still the ones with the upper hand. “Terms first.”
She hesitates for a beat before caving. “I will carry out a reasonable plan to trap the bastards. I’d like to stay alive while doing so, which means I reserve the right to object to anything that leaves me as an unprotected sitting duck. I’m happy to share my information, and I agree that based on the directed harassment, they want me for something, likely retribution. Regardless, use me as bait. And when all is said and done, I earn the right to get wiped from existence. Any evidence the FBI has on me should be struck from their records. Don’t tell me you can’t manage that. I know you can.”
She stops there, the sticky crackle of her swallow reaching my ears, broadcasting how nervous she is under that polished exterior. “I want a death to my current identity, not a disappearance. And I want a new, completely untraceable identity with a one-million-dollar escape fund. Again, no objections. That is chump change in this room and a feasible amount for me to start over. Finally, I’d like to be able to choose to stay with Gage and his family or to start fresh somewhere else. Either way, you’ll have ample collateral on me to own my silence.”
“All the progress I thought we’d made, and you still need to run.” That’s all I can seem to mutter before Jared’s voice smashes through my deflated thoughts.
“Okay, let’s—”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “I have conditions of my own.”
Ainsley’s head whips toward me, but I don’t acknowledge her. Not even when she clutches my fingers—a plea for me to clue her in.
“Go ahead,” Jared says.
“I understand the need to pursue a different route from what we traditionally do in regard to the claiming. I can respect that the stakes here are higher. But a certain level of respect is owed to me, so if you want my cooperation, my own demands need to be met.”
Wells tips his chin to me. He won’t like everything I’m going to request, but he’ll support me all the same. Because what Ainsley doesn’t understand is that family will risk everything for you even if they don’t love the route you’re taking. For us, that often means throwing ourselves in front of a train. Including hers.
“Whatever plan we settle on,” I continue, shamelessly spelling it out regardless of the bylaws, “doubles as the loyalty test when she marries me, which she will be doing. Soon .” I squeeze her fingers because as infuriated as I am, I’d like her to know that doesn’t make me want her any less. It simply means I need to lie down on tracks I wanted to avoid. “That much was probably a given, but it doesn’t hurt to make things crystal clear. I will be involved in the planning of any operation and given the same veto rights that she’s being granted. My family has the right to be involved as well.”
Jared and Payne are taking notes while my people, including Axel, appear a bit green. I’m guessing they see where this is going. They’d all do the same. And much like I won’t fault Ivy for backing up Ainsley’s harebrained conviction to deny herself an extra layer of protection afforded by the claimed marriage, my family won’t condemn me for what I’m about to do.
After a silent, cleansing breath, I spell out my final demand. “And finally, this is the big one. Nonnegotiable. If we don’t obtain the information that you’re looking for, if she is found liable for the failure, she will not be considered a threat. She will not be neutralized—”
“The issue with agreeing to that,” Jared cuts me off, unable to even let me finish my goddamn sentence before he unveils exactly what I expected their hang-up to be, “is we are dealing with someone who could be swayed back to her family of origin. She is in fact refuting any official attachment to you—and in turn, KORT—which means she is still considered a Morelli. A rival. We’ve seen this before. She could double-cross—”
“Of course,” I concede, “that’s a logical concern. You will still have a means of controlling her by simply holding the FBI evidence over her head. And if any duplicitous actions are suspected, she will be considered the property of Wells and Ivy. But if she’s a traitor, so am I. So, I will take her death penalty.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Ainsley whispers, voice quavering.
“You dove off a fucking cliff, Ains. And I’m holding on.”