Chapter 8 VAULT OF LIES
The Orchid, Manhattan, New York City
I stare at my cryptic text message exchange last night with the asshole extraordinaire as I stand in the lobby of The Orchid vault and concierge level.
Elias
Lana
What, not 8:08am or 8:03am? No please? And what could I, lowly Anderson you never even say hi to, do for you, my Shadow King of Nightmares?
I admit it wasn’t my best moment. Girls’ night got canceled.
Taylor just found out she’s pregnant, which explains why she’s been looking green these days.
Alexis is trekking across the with Ethan.
Millie is vacationing in Europe with Ryland.
Levi came down with a bug, much to Belle’s dismay.
The others are dealing with newborn routines.
I don’t blame them for putting me last now. With their families expanding and the cutest little kids in tow, it makes sense that priorities shift. Heck, I’m lucky my best girls are my sisters or sisters-in-law, and we won’t grow apart because we’re a tight-knit family.
But it’s lonely to be left behind.
So yes, I may have had a girls’ night all by myself, three sheets to the wind when I received the asshole’s text message.
Tapping my heel on the marble floor, I scroll to the rest of the messages, half of which I don’t even remember typing.
Lana
Shadow King, did the devil finally come to collect you? Why are you…you? Why are you polite to everyone else but me? What have I ever done to you? Why can’t you ever say please and thank you?
Elias. Whatever your middle name is. Kent. Answer me.
His response came ten minutes later.
Elias
Please.
I remember frowning at the odd message, then realizing he was asking me to show up here this morning.
Curiosity got the better of me. What does the devil need me for?
But now it’s ten past eight, I haven’t had my morning coffee, and the man himself is nowhere to be seen.
Ugh, Lana. Why did you show up?
Because you were intrigued by the enigmatic man whose chuckles make your panties wet and harsh commands make you want to slap him.
After he pins you against a wall and has his way with you.
My skin heats, and I groan at the unwanted image. Biological clock, dammit. I need better choices.
“Thank you for coming,” a soft rasp ghosts my ears.
“Holy crap!”
My phone tumbles out of my grip. One leather glove-clad hand shoots from behind me and catches it.
“Were you a cat in your past life? How do you move without sound?” I spin around, and my mouth promptly dries.
The Shadow King is wearing all black today—a form-fitted suit, vest, tie, the works.
He looks like he’s aiming to be best-dressed at a funeral.
I take in the well-honed muscles straining against his clothes, the drumming vein on his neck, his intense gaze drilling into me like I’m a secret he wants to unravel.
He resembles those sexy assassins I see in movies—the ones who’ll cut off someone’s fingers for touching his woman and smile the entire time while doing it.
My core throbs, and I curse myself. Completely inappropriate.
“Occupational hazard,” he murmurs.
Elias Kent’s eyes—the brilliant emerald green reminding me of a boy in my past—lighten a smidge.
That’s it. I need to find a man and get laid. This is what I get for saving my first time for someone special—perpetual horniness. But conflating my sweet Kian with this murderer? I’m definitely losing it.
“You were absolutely a cat in another life,” I mutter.
“But you like cats.” His lips curve into a ghost of a smile.
I frown. I never told him that before.
“Come.” He pivots.
My feet move automatically before I can yell at myself for obeying another one of his brusque commands.
That’s when I notice he has a small entourage with him.
Four hulking men wearing earpieces, tattoos peeking above the collars of their dress shirts. But the last one, a blond with pale skin and thin lips, sneers at me, his gaze crawling down the length of my sweater dress.
Like he’s undressing me with his eyes.
Disgust roils inside me. Alarm bells ring in my head.
“Eyes off her,” Elias barks at the men, who stiffen and avert their gazes.
My chest constricts as I slow my strides, eyeing the small group. I don’t recognize these people, and I know most of the members here. They’re the rich and elite, not these…thugs.
“I’m waiting.” Elias pauses and turns, his gaze steady. “Don’t test my patience. Please, Ms. Anderson.”
I stop, my gut twisting with nervousness. Elias sometimes brings staff to assist with the Rose floors.
But this isn’t it.
“Who are these people?” The four men straighten. They reach for their waists. “What’s going on?”
“It’s for your family. That’s all you need to know.” Elias holds my gaze.
Then he smiles.
Every hair on my body stands at attention.
I spot an anomaly, something I almost didn’t register.
The blinking red light of the security camera in the corner. It’s gone. Why are the cameras off?
Shaking my head, I unwittingly step back. “No. I’m not moving until you tell me. This feels off. Even for you.”
“Lana,” he warns, his tone still cajoling, but those piercing eyes harden. “They’re my bodyguards.”
What? I scan the menacing men again. No. Definitely not.
Elias’s hand curls into a fist, and his eyes flash with ire.
Danger.
Terror seizes me—ice cold and brutal—and I bolt for the nearest concierge office.
He’s faster. Elias reaches me in a matter of seconds and clamps his hand over my mouth.
His arm bands around my waist, iron and unyielding, and he carries me toward the vault.
I kick and scream, jabbing my elbow into his ribs, my heels dragging on the floor.
Useless. It’s like a fly swatting at a flame. I can’t break his grip. I can’t breathe.
I’m being kidnapped in broad daylight.
“Stop it. I’m not hurting you.” His lips press against my ear. “Now listen carefully. You’re going to enter your passcode to the vault. Quietly. We’ll walk inside. You’ll open your box. No one gets harmed.”
Bastard. I knew he wasn’t trustworthy. My brothers treated him as one of their own, but deep down, I just knew.
“I’m setting you down. You scream, and security will come. You scream, and they will die. Their blood will be on your hands.” His breath puffs against my ear as he whispers, “Do as I say and I’ll get you out. You can hate me later. Nod if you understand.”
I nod, my heart pounding a mile a minute. Anything to appease the monster so he’ll let go of me. If he’s lying, I’ll be dead. If he’s telling the truth—
Get it together, Lana. Calm. Stay focused.
Then I’ll think of a way out of this.
“I’m trusting you, Lana. Don’t make me regret it,” Elias rasps as he sets me down.
Cold air crashes between us, and I shiver.
The four men he’s with have their pistols drawn. The blond one murmurs something—a foreign language—to his buddies.
“Smile, Ms. Anderson. Don’t spook anyone.” Elias curls his hand behind my back, not touching me, but I feel him all the same. A whiff of his cologne—vetiver and smoke—reaches my nose.
My traitorous body hums.
Stop it, Lana. Damn hormones.
“Wh-What do you need from my box?” I seethe. “My brothers trusted you. They took you in. They said you were family. How dare you—”
The maddening man tsks. “Don’t know when to shut up, princess, do you? Do as I say.”
He stops us in front of the thick metal doors of the vault. It’s not just a simple passcode. There’s a biometric component and a retinal scan.
The damn bastard must know all this, and that’s why he needs me.
The weakest Anderson link.
My fingers dig into my palms as anger shoots up my spine.
Get out of this alive, Lana. Do as he says.
I force myself to even out my breaths as I enter my passcode: 2 28 11 24 3 4. My birthday, February twenty-eighth; Kian’s birthday, November twenty-fourth; and March fourth, the day we met.
My pendant thumps against my sternum with every breath, the small gem feeling heavier, almost deceptive, like it’s trying to tell me things aren’t what they seem.
A sharp inhale puffs against my ear. I snap my gaze to the devil.
His eyes. They look haunted. Why?
“Go on,” he rasps.
His men shift restlessly behind us. I hear the clicks of their safeties disengaging.
Hands trembling, I press the alarm sequence only my family knows, then hit enter.
Please let someone see the code red. Anyone but him.
The first lock flashes green. Then the palm scan shows up.
Elias places my hand gently on the scanner. Like he wasn’t threatening me seconds ago.
His touch is careful, almost protective, and the twisted tenderness makes my skin crawl.
Beep. The lock disengages.
Finally, the retinal scan.
Nausea churns as I lean in, my ears perked and listening for footsteps, anything to indicate someone got my secret code red message.
Nothing.
A third beep and the door opens.
The men whisper something in the same foreign language.
The blond one says, “Hurry, woman.”
“Quiet,” Elias snaps at them. His lips brush my ear. “Inside. Ladies first.”
Ignoring the tremors in my body, I straighten, head held high, and step into the vault.
Sterile light reflects off the rows of lockboxes. My legs shake as I approach the box in the far-right corner.
My box.
There are family jewels. Some letters.
Nothing worth betraying the Anderson family for.
Footsteps reach my ears. Help is here. My heart jolts, then deflates when a thin, unfamiliar, older man in a black suit walks inside the vault.
Not security.
“Right on time,” he murmurs, checking his watch. He takes out a notebook, a fountain pen, and jots something down.
“Who are you?” Elias rasps.
The man smiles. “You can call me the Scheduler. I handle the logistics for the Rites. You passed your first test.” He nods and retreats. “Continue on.”
Rites? The room shrinks. I think I’m going to be sick. This isn’t a robbery. It’s a fucked-up ritual. And I’m standing in the middle of it.
Silence reigns for a beat after the man leaves.
“Unlock it now.” Elias pushes me forward. “Quickly, Lana.”