CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ZARA
When Mercy sits down, I have a mouthful of muffuletta—a New Orleans sandwich that has become my latest obsession—and Owen is working on his phone.
The Underground has a couple of eateries—all are casual, eclectic, and packed at lunchtime. We’re at Bistro Noire, and I’m surprised to see Mercy here. She and Tessa usually dine at one of the resort restaurants.
She offers me a quick greeting but allows me a moment to chew and jumps into a discussion with Owen, regarding a case they’re working on.
I listen, attempting to sift through their exchange for anything worth holding on to, but unfortunately, nothing surrounding media is offered.
Tripp sent me specific details to search for, but between my time spent in members’ spaces and employee hangouts, I’ve yet to hear anything to guide my search.
It’s safe to say, I’m a far better executioner than spy.
Acid sloshes in my stomach. Axel struck a chord this morning with his portrayal of my being an assassin in between PTA meetings and soccer practice. I’m starting to hate him.
Well, most of me hates him.
The other part has been obsessing over his final threat, which very well could have been a promise to kill me. But my body feels certain it was a vow that the next time I tackled him, we’d have a much better time.
“I should take care of that before our one o’clock,” Owen says, standing abruptly to clean his trash and pack his briefcase.
He’s always in a hurry. Attractive. Intense. A moral code that is milky gray. He crosses lines, but he hasn’t taken lives. It’s in the eyes. People who have killed—willingly stolen another’s breath—recognize one another. It’s an unspoken club.
Mercy tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and grimaces, her big brown doe eyes brimming with feigned innocence. “I disrupted your peaceful lunch.”
“It’s fine. You saved me some stress,” he corrects before turning to me. “You’re good if I take off?”
“Of course,” I assure him. “I’ll see you later.”
As soon as he scurries away, Mercy’s lips break into a sly smile. “That had to be done. Tessa will be over in a minute.”
I arch an eyebrow and help myself to a french fry. “Should I be concerned that you’re isolating me?”
“No.” She giggles, like there’s a secret bubbling up inside her, as she cuts her po’ boy in half. “It’s a harmless visit. Promise.”
Deciding it’s best to ride this out, I eat and observe.
Mercy has been welcoming to me since my first day.
If I were as focused on strategy as I should be, I’d have leaned into that.
But I’ve been locking myself in my room, lamenting over the corner I seem to have boxed myself into.
I can’t even think about the freak-out I had with Tripp.
If I don’t get it together, he’ll be forced to report me as a rogue asset after our next check-in. I need to be gathering something.
Tessa takes a seat about a minute later, setting her food down and rolling her turquoise eyes. Maddox’s wife is a knockout—silver hair, striking features, curvy figure, and a don’t-fuck-with-me energy.
That unspoken life-taking club? She belongs to it.
“Thank you for clearing the table. I can’t people today.” She flicks her gaze to me. “You don’t count, Zara. Though I’d like you better if you had throat-punched my husband too. I’m Tessa, by the way.”
Mercy bursts out laughing and squeezes my forearm. “She’s not even joking. That would’ve catapulted you to hero status.”
“So, word travels fast around here,” I muse.
Tessa’s nose crinkles, her amethyst facial piercings glittering beneath the halogen table lamp. “It’s twelve thirty. As far as La Lune Noire goes, you kicking security’s asses at dawn is old news.”
Her husband must’ve filled her in. Since she doesn’t mention Axel, I hold my breath that Maddox omitted that tidbit, maybe out of respect for his brother.
After a sip of my soda, I steer the conversation back to them. “What brings you two down here? Don’t you usually eat upstairs?”
“You,” Mercy declares, obliterating my efforts. “But in case you didn’t know, the executive staff is permitted to eat upstairs anytime we want. Is that why you always have lunch here or go back to your room? Did you think you had to?”
I seize the opportunity to be both truthful and latch on to a commonality with Tessa. “No. I’m not used to working around people all day, so I appreciate the privacy.”
Tessa pushes some buffalo chicken further into her wrap, mischief creasing her eyes. “Noire Underground rules do offer unique privacy.”
Mercy’s whole face lights up as she delivers the number one rule of the Underground. “Never tell Axel or Ryker.”
I laugh, amused at how delighted she is by that rule when Ryker is her husband. “That’s not what I was referring to, but I won’t deny that hiding from my boss is a perk.”
“Are you sure about that?” Mercy bites her lip and whips out her phone. “I mean, I love that there’s a place off-limits for Axel and Ryker, but there are certainly times I want my husband to find me.” She widens her eyes, as if there’s a meaning there to snatch. “So, dish the beans, girl.”
My forehead scrunches in confusion.
Tessa huffs, though it’s jovial. “Mercy doesn’t come even remotely close to getting a saying correct, but she’s brilliant.
If you need a random fact or legal advice, she’s your girl.
” She turns to her sister-in-law, who is aghast with theatrical offense, and waves her off.
“It had to be said. It’s spill the beans or tea, and still, without context, it made very little sense. Show her the family group chat.”
“Tessa’s the grumpy one,” Mercy snaps back.
“Low-hanging fruit, Merce.” Tessa takes Mercy’s phone, pulls something up on it, and lays it in front of me.
Elation from getting an inside peek at their interactions floods me as I read.
Maddox: I have a bone to pick.
Ryker: With someone specific or in general?
Maddox: I’m just feeling kind of lonely. We never see each other anymore.
Cash: What the fuck is happening? Has marriage made you a cockblock? We had dinner last night.
Ryker: Are you trying to fuck someone right now?
Cash: Not this second. But my schedule is sacred, and the dinner hour is peak. Three times a week is already a stretch.
Axel: Thank you for your servitude and sacrifice.
Maddox: We should listen to the old guy. Sacrifice is important. It’s vital as a man.
Ryker: Is there a point to this shit?
Tessa: Do not indulge him. He’s up to something. He left to get my chai latte this morning and came back far happier than anyone should be.
Jax: WTF? It’s eight in the damn morning.
Axel: Most of us have been awake for hours, Jax.
Maddox: Exactly, Papa Axe. And all those hours have been filled with events that the family needs to know about. Let’s get ready to rumble.
Axel: Dear fuck.
Ryker: What’s going on?
Cash: I don’t know, but I’m already excited. Is this where the sacrifice pays off?
Maddox: [Attached: Video]
Even from the thumbnail, I can tell it’s of me slamming Axel to the floor. So, Maddox didn’t just share what happened. He recorded it. Great.
Unable to resist, I press play. The video starts with me shoving Axel, shows me knocking him on his ass, and ends with him swiping my feet out from under me so I’m lying atop him. And it looks … hot.
Me: What the hell was that?
Since this is Mercy’s phone, Me is her.
Cash: I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.
Jax: I’m up.
Ryker: You recorded Axel’s foreplay?
Axel: It was not foreplay.
Tessa: Well, you gotta give us something then. Why did she kick your ass?
Axel: She did not kick my ass. Did you watch the part where I knocked her down?
Jax: That argument doesn’t paint you in the best light, Papa Axe.
Maddox: GIF *It hurts, but I love it.*
The GIF is the part where I’m slamming Axel to the ground.
Me: GIF *Woman up.*
I glance at Mercy with faux judgment. “You too?”
She throws a don’t-blame-me palm in the air. “It’s the only way to survive this family. You gotta roll with it.”
“That’s the truth,” Tessa tacks on.
I’ve never experienced anything like what they seem to have here, so I can’t relate. But as I resume reading the texts, instead of embarrassment, a twinge of envy spears me.
Cash: GIF *Still wrestling with the age gap, old man?*
Jax: GIF *Don’t call me sweetheart.*
Tessa: GIF *Employee relations gone wrong.*
Maddox: We know a little something about that, don’t we, baby?
Ryker: GIF *When tap out starts sounding like a safe word.*
Axel: I’m blocking you all.
Stifling a chuckle, I hand Mercy her phone and pull out the new one Bernard issued me when I got hired. “Did he block you?”
Tessa swallows a bite of her wrap and reaches for her tea. “He blocked the chat. Not the first time. We just create new ones and add him to them.”
Their mayhem is endearing. And enticing.
“Mind if I have some fun with that?” I ask.
A borderline evil grin coasts up Tessa’s cheeks. “I knew you’d be perfect.”
Mercy sends me the video. I create my own GIF and send my first text to Axel. He ensured his contact information was already logged.
Me: Good news for you.
His dots gallop on the screen, and his response appears almost immediately, lighter than how we left things.
Axel: You are rarely the bearer of good news. You have my attention.
Me: Well, isn’t that what every woman wants?
Axel: I can’t speak for an entire gender, and my focus is only on you. But time is precious, so …
Me: You’re even bossy in texts.
Axel: And you’re even more evasive in yours. You had news?
Me: Maybe I forgot it. Batting my lashes and saying, “Yes, sir,” will do that.
Axel: I’m getting bored.
Me: Short stamina. Noted.
Axel: Zara.
If his attention being on me wasn’t enough, I can practically hear him growl my name, and a thrill thunders in my core.
Me: GIF *Proof that size doesn’t matter.*
His dots appear and disappear. With each prance, I envision his lips twitching with humor.
Axel: Cute. Bonding with my family, I see.
Axel: Have your fun. We both know you’d have trouble walking afterward, but the glow would be worth it.
My entire body heats, but I don’t respond. Maybe he’ll feel the need to prove his point. We can test his threat from this morning.
As I glance up, Mercy bites back a grin.
They set me up to see how I’d react to him, and I was so consumed by thoughts of the enigmatic king that I bared my infatuation to them.
Tessa shakes her head in what appears to be disappointment. “You are so fucked.”
She has no idea.