Chapter 24
VAN
“Idon’t know why you're so mad,” Rasmus said, voice quiet but needling, his eyes narrowing at me from over Aniyah’s computer screen. “I told you I didn’t mind that you’re with Aniyah too. In fact, I learned a lot about what she liked by watching you.”
The fuck he did.
The words lodged in my throat like broken glass. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The ache in my chest wasn’t metaphorical; it was literal. The sharp, twisting heat curled around my ribs and squeezed.
That word, boyfriend, played on loop in my skull, every repetition another knife under my ribs.
She could call him that, but it had taken her years just to kiss me. Years where I waited, loyal and silent, pushing down every instinct, every craving. She wouldn’t even talk about us being mates, but she’d give him a title?
My feet moved before I could, leaving Rasmus calling out to me, asking me where I was going, saying we had so much to talk about.
Possessiveness twisted through my veins like a vine, coiling tighter with every breath I took. My body tensed, every muscle screaming for me to move, to do something. I wanted to storm into her room, shake her awake, and demand she look me in the eye and explain.
Throwing open the doors to the balcony instead, I took a breath of fresh air, hoping it would calm my racing heart, but instead it only made it bleed.
Why was she doing this? Why did she have to go on stage and fuck that wolf? Why did she have to keep me at a distance?
I didn't understand her, understand this!
The distant thrum of music from a nearby bar drifted through the air, mixing with the city sounds below, the shuffle of footsteps, the screech of tires, cab doors slamming shut. New York’s chaos wrapped around me like static, blurring everything until my thoughts finally stopped screaming.
Only then, when the noise outside became louder than the one inside, could I breathe again.
In that moment of clarity, I realized I had lied to myself. I did understand her.
Three years by Aniyah’s side had taught me more than I wanted to admit. I knew the woman who’d rescued my sister from hell. I knew the woman who’d burned her name into my chest without ever touching me.
She was the youngest in a family of monsters, brilliant, brutal, loyal monsters, and that carried its own weight. They adored her, spoiled her, and let her run wild, carving out her empire in stilettos and sequins. Admirable? Sure. But I knew the truth buried under the glitter.
The climb always looked easy when you were being cheered for at the top, but when you paused long enough to look down and realize how far there was to fall? That fear, that pressure, that made people spiral.
Aniyah wasn’t bratty. She was breaking, but she did it in the most breathtaking way possible.
Her choices sometimes looked reckless, her temper a fast-burning fire with no target, but I knew better.
She wore pressure like perfume, always trying to measure up, trying to match her siblings’ combat skills even though her power leaned into charm, not carnage.
So, she chased something else. The money.
The spectacle. The soft power. And still she carried the weight of proving she was just as lethal as they were.
Sometimes, I thought she saw them as idols—untouchable, perfect—but if she looked closely enough, she’d see just how often she stood shoulder to shoulder with them.
I sighed. Of course, none of that made the situation easier.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts, my sliver of peace gone too soon. That was the curse of being the right hand of a Syndicate boss. You never really clocked out.
I answered without checking. “Speak.”
“Hey! Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?” The lazy drawl laced with sharp edges instantly snapped me to attention.
Calix. Of course, it was Calix.
“I should come over there and beat your ass. Where are you?”
“I’m at Aniyah’s apartment, Boss Calix. We’ve set up here for the time being.”
Squeezing the rail, I mentally screamed. Of course, Aniyah’s older brother would be here now! Why not?! Why shouldn't the rest of them show up? We could have a grand time explaining our situation to them.
Realizing what I’d just said, I winced and looked up, begging the universe not to forsake me. Please, don't send the rest of her family. I didn't mean it. I was just frustrated. It was a madhouse when they all got together. I barely survived the last time.
“Good,” Calix said finally, his voice far too casual. “Now make sure she doesn’t come to the building for the next day or so.”
A shiver scraped down my spine. What the hell was he planning?
“Oh! And don’t tell her I’m here.”
I tamped down the rising dread and forced my voice into something even.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Fucking hell!” Calix exploded. “What kind of operation is Niya running that none of you assholes can keep one simple secret?!”
I kept quiet. Best thing you could do with Calix was let him rant until he ran out of steam.
“Between you and that big-ass troll, it’s like a fucking wall of no’s. I’m not used to hearing that. Right, Rack?”
From the background came the clipped, annoyed voice of his second-in-command. “No. You need to work on that.”
Calix paused, then barked a laugh. “What the fuck does he know?! Anyway, you just need to keep her busy for a day or two and keep your mouth shut. You telling me you can’t do that?”
Deep breath. Calm tone. Don’t rock the boat with logic.
“Sir—”
“Calix,” he cut in with a smirk in his voice.
Not happening.
“Boss Winstale—”
“Fucking Calix. Or Cal, if that’s easier for your delicate little spine.”
Before I could respectfully refuse, Rack’s voice snapped, “Stop giving him shit. He’s just trying to be appropriate.”
Like I wasn’t still on the call, Calix shouted at him, “What do you mean?! I’m trying! Trying to build rapport and shit. Then maybe they’ll actually listen to me, goddamn it!”
“That’s not how you do it,” Rack muttered.
They bickered like an old married couple, which was funny, considering the rumors all said they were very straight. Maybe that was what happened when you had four powerful, headstrong younger sisters? You found a male friend and annoyed him.
“What, then how the fuck should I—oh, wait.” Calix shifted gears mid-sentence, instantly intrigued. “Oh, shit. That could work. What do you think if we added this to the mainframe this time?”
Nope. Not letting this spiral with me on the phone.
“Am I safe to assume you and Mr. Marlo are at the Winged Palace now? Working on the security and barrier systems?”
“Yeah. That’s why I want you to keep it a secret. I want to surprise her once it’s done. I even brought Rack to help bulk it up. Can’t have my baby sis in a place that’s this vulnerable.”
It’s not vulnerable, I thought, but I kept that to myself. In fact, it was fortified better than most Syndicate compounds. We’d just survived an ambush assault that had been executed with internal intel, yet the place hadn’t even blinked.
“And I’m guessing you also ran into Alic?”
Calix went quiet, clearly distracted by something else, then finally said, “What? Oh, yeah. Hard not to bump into him. Tried to ask him to keep this quiet, and he flat-out told me no. Something about not ‘fucking with another Syndicate sibling again.’ How the fuck is that my fault?”
His laugh was genuine this time. “Word of advice from her big bro, when dealing with Aniyah, you're going to need some big cojones. My sister’s not for the faint of heart or those ruled by fear. She’ll just chew you up and spit you out in the end.
You gotta be strong enough to weather her storm, then, and only then, can you see the beauty in her chaos. ”
I was stunned for a second, not knowing what to say, but Calix laughed it off again.
“I should be happy about the loyalty you all have for my sister, but it’s also pissing me off. Just don’t tell her! That's an order!” Click.
I pulled the phone from my ear, staring at the screen like it had personally offended me.
Great. Now, he was here too, and I was going to disobey his direct order. Fuck me.
The soft click of the front door broke the quiet. Familiar voices, low, rough, and unmistakable, floated in like a storm rolling through the hallway. So much for my pity party.
I left behind what little peace I’d managed to scavenge and shut the double doors behind me. My steps echoed as I made my way down the corridor and turned the corner, just in time to catch the show.
Rasmus stood in front of the others, arms crossed, eyes blazing with the kind of feral irritation that said they’d personally offended his god, and he was one decimal away from snapping.
“If you wake Aniyah up with your goddamn stomping,” he growled, his voice laced with murderous intent, “I swear to fuck, I’ll gut each of you right here.
I’ll rip your hearts out and toss them in the dumpster out back.
I can blame the whole mess on some unlucky bastard crossing the street, then I’ll be forced to kill him too, just to calm her down.
And all of that will be your fault. I won’t feel bad in the least.”
Lucus looked around, that usual sharp-edged arrogance bleeding out of him as his gaze settled on Rasmus. “Who the fuck is this wily bastard,” he muttered, brows drawn tight, “and when did he grow a pair of crazy balls?”
Maso just arched a brow at Rasmus, unbothered. He shuffled over to the loveseat and spread out like a king claiming a throne, taking up the entire seat without a word.
It was Alic who surprised me most. He just rolled his eyes and silently walked off. No sharp comments, no suspicious, angry glares. Didn’t he distrust Rasmus? What the hell happened back at his place?
Lucus stepped in closer, the air shifting with the weight of him as he inhaled deeply. His silver eyes turned into bladed slits, lips curled with a dark chuckle. “Oh. You finally got a taste, and now you think you’ve earned a seat at the big boys’ table.”