Chapter 20
Julian
The Council chamber hadn't changed since the last time I was summoned here.
Still the same oppressive darkness, lit only by sconces mounted on stone walls.
Still the same massive table carved from a single slab of black marble, its surface inlaid with the Dionysus symbol in gold.
Still the same eight high-backed chairs arranged in a semicircle, positioned so that whoever stood before them felt appropriately small.
I wasn't small. But I knew how to play the game.
The eight Council members sat in shadow, their faces barely visible despite the flickering firelight.
I recognized them anyway, because I'd grown up with these men.
Attended their dinner parties. Listened to their lectures about legacy and power and what it meant to be born into the Dionysus brotherhood.
My father sat in the center chair, his posture rigid, hands folded on the table before him. To his right was my uncle Damien, looking as severe as ever. The other six Council members—Rockwell, Prentice, Pontellier, Marsden, Wellington, and Bellamy—completed the semicircle.
None of them looked particularly pleased to see me.
“Julian.” My father's voice echoed through the chamber, cold and formal. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
As if I'd had a choice.
“Of course,” I said, keeping my tone respectful. Neutral.
“I assume you know why you're here,” Damien said, leaning forward slightly. The firelight caught the sharp planes of his face, making him look almost skeletal.
“I have an idea, yeah.”
“The List was due last night,” my father said. “All Reapers were required to submit their selections for this year's hunt by midnight. You submitted yours at 11:47 PM.”
Thirteen minutes to spare. I'd cut it closer than I should have, but I wanted to be sure. Wanted to think through every possible angle before I committed.
“That sounds right.”
“Violet Jayne Calloway.” Rockwell spoke for the first time, her name sounding like an accusation on his lips. “That's who you chose.”
“Yes, sir.”
A heavy silence fell over the chamber. I could feel the Council’s collective displeasure radiating toward me like heat.
“Explain yourself,” my father said. There was steel beneath the calm surface of his voice. “Explain why you thought it was appropriate to put Calista Hoffman's sister on the Selection List.”
I'd prepared for this. Had known the moment I wrote her name down that I'd be standing here, facing this exact question.
“She's an ideal candidate,” I said calmly. “Excellent academic standing, ambitious, intelligent, beautiful, and from a background that makes her easy to control if necessary.”
Bellamy spoke up, his voice sharp. “Her sister died on our campus less than a year ago under circumstances that could’ve drawn significant attention if they weren’t nipped in the bud,” he said.
“Thankfully, we got on top of it quickly, for reasons you’re very well aware of, and we’ve managed to keep it quiet.
But now you want to put the dead girl’s sister on the List? Are you trying to create a scandal?”
“This is the very same girl we’ve had you surveilling to ensure she doesn’t look too deeply into her sister’s unfortunate accident,” Rockwell added, his tone clipped. “Can you honestly say you don’t see the problem here?”
I kept my expression carefully blank. “I'm aware of the delicate nature of the situation. But as I’ve learned during my surveillance, Violet Calloway has absolutely no knowledge of her sister's Selection. She believes Calista's death was an accident, just like everyone else.”
“We can’t be completely certain of that just yet,” my father said.
“She might have suspicions, but she could be biding her time before she begins her investigation. She might even be working in secret, on things you’ve been unable to uncover so far.
So the risk of bringing her around us is simply too high. ”
“Exactly,” Bellamy said before I could respond.
“Obviously, we have the police in our pocket, so that’s not an issue.
But if the media starts sniffing around because of Violet…
well the situation could spiral out of control very fast. It’s not like the old days when we could pay off journalists to bury stories.
These days, everyone with an iPhone and a Wi-Fi connection is a journalist of sorts. ”
“These sorts of stories are impossible to contain once they’re online,” Damien added. “Is that what you want?”
The men finally stopped long enough to let me speak again.
“Actually, I've thought about all of that, and I have to say, I see things the opposite way,” I said. “I'm also surprised none of you have considered this angle yet. No disrespect intended, of course.”
My father’s eyes narrowed. “Well, go on, then. How, exactly, do you see it?”
“I agree that there’s a chance Violet could still decide to start looking into us.
But the hunt is only ten days away. If I Select her, capture her, and bring her to the estate, she’ll be cut off from the world for several months.
Whatever she knows—if she even knows anything at all by then—stays contained,” I said.
“And once her training is complete, and she's sworn in as one of our chosen, she won't breathe a word for the rest of her life. She won't even want to.”
I paused, letting that sink in.
“My point is,” I continued, “if she does harbor suspicions about her sister's death, bringing her into the Club neutralizes that threat permanently. She becomes one of us. Bound by oath and loyalty. Any questions she might’ve had will be answered in a way that ensures her silence. We turn a potential risk into an asset.”
Wellington leaned forward, his voice dripping with condescension.
“Clearly, you haven't thought this through to completion.
Not all girls are Dionysus material. Some of them can't handle it.
Others are simply incorrigible. We send them away, back to the real world.
And there's always a risk that one of those girls will talk.”
“Those girls sign ironclad NDAs,” I said evenly. “No one in the history of the Club's existence has ever broken one.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” my father said. “If Violet fails, and we send her away knowing even more about us than she knew before she arrived… well, the risk of her taking things public increases exponentially.”
I held his gaze, unflinching. “I've always been the best Reaper in my cohort. I've been trusted with assignments others couldn't handle. Given access to information others weren't deemed ready for.” I paused. “So… do you really think I would ever let my Selection fail?”
Silence fell in the chamber.
The Council members exchanged glances. Damien sat back in his chair, something that might’ve been vague approval flickering across his face.
“That's actually a fair point,” he said. “I'm willing to concede on this one.”
A few of the other Council members nodded, murmuring their agreement. My father remained still, his eyes never leaving mine.
“The rules are clear,” he finally said. “We can advise.
We can discourage. But we can't override a Reaper's Selection.” His voice dropped, taking on an edge.
“So I truly hope you know what you're doing, Julian.
Because if this blows up in your face, it won't just be your reputation on the line. It'll be the entire Club.”
“I know what I'm doing,” I said firmly.
“Well, then. The matter is settled.” My father's hand made a dismissive gesture. “You're excused.”
I dipped my chin in a short, respectful bow and turned toward the door.
“Julian.”
I stopped, glancing back over my shoulder.
My uncle Damien’s expression was unreadable in the flickering firelight. “Don't make me regret defending you to this Council.”
The subtext was clear: Even your own father didn’t defend you today. If you fail, you're on your own.
“I won't,” I said.
I walked out of the Council chamber, the heavy door closing behind me with a resonant thud that echoed through the stone corridor.
As I made my way through the estate's dim hallways, I pulled out my phone and opened Violet’s dorm camera feed. She was lying on her stomach, typing away on her laptop, safe for now. Mine to watch, not to touch.
But in ten days, that would change.
Her name would be posted on the Artemis Building at 2:00 sharp, and then the hunt would begin.
I allowed myself a slight smile as I stepped out into the cold October air. Violet thought she was investigating us. Thought she was being clever, sneaking into our ceremony, playing at detective.
She had no idea she was already mine.