Chapter 34 ASHEṢ BETWEEN US
Heat wraps around me in the sweetest embrace. A delicious ache pulses between my legs. I stretch, the sheets sliding over my bare skin, and open my eyes to daylight spilling through half-drawn curtains.
Black walls. Midnight bedspread. This is Elias’s room.
Memories of last night rush back—limbs intertwined, mouths searching, pleasure blurring with pain. His dark voice was a prayer at my throat. The soreness between my thighs sharpens, proof it wasn’t a dream. I had sex with Elias Kent, my husband.
More than once.
After the carnage in the dungeon, he wrapped me in his bloody shirt, tucked me against his chest, and carried me upstairs to his bathroom. He gently washed my body, his eyes remorseful when he saw the scratches, the bite marks, the bruises forming from our rough lovemaking.
I couldn’t reconcile this man—this brutal killer—with the boy I never forgot.
But when the mist cloaked us from the world, I saw it.
The truth.
Elias might be taller, his jaw sharper, his voice deeper—but those eyes never changed. My sweet, beautiful Kian was there all along.
“How did I not recognize you?” I ask.
He rinses the shampoo out of my hair. “Surgery and puberty. I grew half a foot; my voice dropped. I had my jaw shaved, nose altered—just slightly—because I didn’t want to be recognized.”
He pauses, his thumb grazing my lips. “And I stayed away from you.”
Elias refuses to answer any more questions—about what he said in the dungeon, or the accusation that I killed Kian. He only kisses me, clutching me like he can’t believe I exist.
Then he worships me again.
He shuts off the water, wraps me in a towel, and carries me back to his bed. He then spreads my legs and stares at me in that intense way of his.
“Look at you,” he rasps. “These tits, your sweet pussy. I’ve imagined and…”
His words trail off as his hands slide up my body, every graze sending liquid heat through me in shivering waves. He kisses my lips, my jaw, that tender spot at my throat where my pulse beats madly for him.
My mind blanks, soon forgetting the questions, the worries, the puzzle I thought I’d solved just a decoy, the actual bomb still hidden underneath.
Whereas our fucking was raw and brutal in the dungeon, this is gentle and quiet. He kisses every inch of my body, his fingers teasing my slit, then rubbing my swollen nub.
“Shhh,” he hushes, reminding me of the insane moment at the vault when he had a gun pointed at my head.
It’s bizarre, and now, it feels…right.
Slowly, he inserts his finger inside me. I hiss, tender from before, and he softens his ministrations until my body accepts the intrusion. He then curls his finger just right until sharp light bursts behind my eyelids.
“Elias—” I cry, legs trembling.
He groans his approval. When my eyes flicker open, he has his cock tightly fisted, the tip dark red and leaking as he pumps it in a savage motion. A loud growl tears from his throat, and cum shoots out of his tip.
“Fuck me. Shit.” He grunts, his eyes feral. He tugs and tugs, releasing ropes of white on my tits, my stomach, marking me between my legs.
“Mine,” he rasps, and my core pulses, needing him again.
It’s depraved. It’s possession and obsession.
After cleaning me up, he crawls into bed beside me and wraps me in his arms.
“Sleep, Lana,” he commands, his voice rough.
The old me would’ve fought him and told him to mind his tone—the new me?
I melt.
And now, as I look around the empty, unfamiliar room, I shiver.
I’m alone again.
I pat the spot next to me—it’s cold. Elias must’ve left during the night. Slowly, I get out of bed and slip on one of his shirts, relishing his scent, which gives me butterflies.
My God, what’s wrong with me?
This changes nothing. He still killed all those people. He nearly killed Maxwell. Am I supposed to be okay with this just because I got a few orgasms?
I should be repulsed and terrified. Elias’s world is nothing like the one I was raised in.
But strangely, or perhaps righteously, I’m not afraid of him. It’s a gut feeling. Or my heart. Because deep down, I know my Kian would never hurt me.
Someone knocks and opens the door.
“Lana, dear, ready for your lunch?” Hannah pops her head in.
“Lunch? What time is it?”
“It’s eleven-thirty.”
“Holy crap. I’ve never slept that long.”
I blush when I remember my state of undress. “Where is he?”
“Mr. Kent left last night. Had to go on a trip.”
“For how long?” I tug at the hem of his shirt.
“Did he have a message for me?” I hate the wobble in my voice.
“He didn’t say,” she says softly, her sympathy crawling up my spine like ice.
So this is it? Use me and dump me? Does he really think he owns me like a piece of meat?
I don’t think so.
“Thank you, Hannah. I’ll be right down.” I strain a smile.
That’s when I see it—a small box sitting on the dresser.
I read the note taped on top.
To my devious wife,
Next week, you will attend the Benefaction with me. Sofia will brief you. Don’t forget why you and your family are still alive.
Don’t disappoint me.
E.
P.S. John’s been reprimanded for your little adventure. Don’t try it again. Or his death will be on your hands.
Asshole. Grinding my teeth, I pick up the box. It’s heavy, slightly bigger than the size of my palm.
The polished wood exterior is inlaid with intricate geometric yosegi patterns.
It’s a Japanese Hitmitsu-Bako—a Japanese secret box!
It’s something my secret admirer would—
A gasp sticks in my esophagus.
Of course. The puzzle box.
It was always him. He’d been taunting me with his presence the entire time we were in New York.
He must’ve thought I was stupid for not figuring out his identity sooner.
But what he told me in the shower…the way he kissed me.
No, Lana. You don’t treat someone you care about like this—slipping out of the house like a thief in the night.
Fury mixes with heartbreak until I can’t separate the two. Things were simpler when he was only the villain. But now I’m addicted…infected with whatever this ailment is.
I deserve more.
Upset with myself, I hurl the box, the thud echoing my scream.
I stalk toward the door, needing to clear my head before meeting the girls at the café.
But before I cross the threshold, I hesitate and turn back.
I retrieve the box and clutch it to my chest.
Despite everything, my fingers still itch to solve it.
Half an hour later, I’m sitting in Arcana the bell rings. Heels click slowly across the floor. A floral, exotic perfume suffuses the air.
I glance up and freeze.
Sofia Kent.
She slides off her sunglasses. Red nails gleam under the light. Green eyes, lined in black and framed with thick lashes, snare mine. She’s almost unrecognizable in a red sweater dress and thigh-high boots.
God, I’m so stupid. Sofia didn’t even change her first name. And puberty and surgery can only transform appearances so much.
“You can close your mouth now, Lana,” she says.
The girls shuffle aside, and I introduce them.
Sofia turns to me, her gaze cool. “You look like shit. Do you have a few?”
Scarlett and Aria take the hint and leave.
“Hot damn, what happened to the graceful Sofia from The Orchid?”
“She never existed. It’s been a drag pretending otherwise.”
Aria sets a cup in front of Sofia.
Sofia pulls a flask from her purse and adds a splash to her tea.
I can’t help staring. Our paths don’t cross often, but she’s helped Elias oversee some clubs at The Orchid before.
But the Sofia I remember was quiet and sophisticated—someone who blended in.
And then there was Kian’s younger sister who used to follow me around?
Definitely not this femme fatale in front of me.
“You have questions.”
“That’s an understatement,” I say.
“Well, too bad—we don’t have time. You need to prepare for the Benefaction. How much do you know?”
“Not much. Only it’s a big event, and the Carusos will be there. Something about The Six, which I presume is important to The Association.”
“That’s right.” She leans in. “The Association is like the Freemasons and Illuminati combined. They have their hands in government, politics, corporations, finance. Their dirty work is done by organized crime, the Bratva, mob—”
“They control everything, I get it.”
She arches her brow. “I underestimated you, Lana. Honestly, I never thought you’d survive this long.”
“Gee, thanks.”
She laughs softly, her eyes warming a smidge. “The Six make up The Council—they oversee the empire. Once a year, they have a ball.”
“The Benefaction.”
“Exactly. It’s when information changes hands and deals are made. Legend says The Association was founded by five families. The sixth was added later for reasons no one knows. This year’s ball is special—the Carusos never attend, but they’re making an exception. That means something big is coming.”
She folds her hands on the table. “Elias is trying to understand how the network works. Your job as his wife is to make sure he looks good in front of The Six.”
“And if I don’t?” I think about his overbearing note from this morning.
“Word of advice.” Sofia leans in, voice turning to steel. “Don’t test his patience. Elias has given you more grace than I’ve ever seen him give anyone, but he has limits. Then things would get ugly.”
I breathe out slowly, images of his blood-soaked face slip into my mind.
She sets down an envelope. “Read it. It has background info. Photos of key players. Play the role. Survive. After all, that’s why you married my brother, right?”
Her words hit like ice water dumped on my head.
Yes. This whole marriage is a transaction. Sex and orgasms don’t factor into it.
I steel my heart and stare at the packet, dread threading a web up around my lungs.
This is just a transaction.
Don’t lose track of the terms.