15. Zane
FIFTEEN
ZANE
“Well?” Genevieve asks, gesturing to the offerings of the evening.
There are four of them, including a slender young man who looks even more nervous than the three women he’s standing beside.
His first time, I suppose, and anxious for good reason.
The women who attend these gatherings don’t often take advantage of her party favors, which means he knows he’s there for one of the men.
He’s there for me.
My eyes narrow at her. This isn’t exactly a public venue, and there are fewer guests than usual, but there are still enough people to know it if I disappear into a private room with a man.
That’s blackmail material, and she knows it.
It’s also an apology, and a peace offering.
“Gen…” I begin, only to falter.
“One of them has to appeal to you,” she says matter-of-factly. “I know your type, Zane.”
She does. She always has, and the addition of the male stripper tells me she’s honed in even more to what I like.
I inspect him. He’s prettier than he is handsome, something I’d never really known I was drawn to until Hyacinth Cuore.
It should open up a whole new world to me, but instead, I feel more limited than ever because Hyacinth’s the only man I can think about.
He’d taken my flogger so beautifully, for all that he hadn’t fallen nearly deep enough under my sway as I’d have liked. The fact that he’d been willing — and able — to make an escape tells me I should’ve gone harder on him.
Had I held back?
Yes.
Should I have?
No.
“What do you think?” Genevieve prompts when several seconds have passed without me choosing from her hand-picked selection of unsuspecting victims.
I exhale slowly.
“You know I can’t be seen with a man in public,” I tell her.
“This isn’t ‘in public,’” she counters. “And I’ve doubled down on my vetting process and hand-selected everyone here tonight. No one will dare utter a single word.”
Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact that Keith Harrington is one of those guests.
She might think she has sufficient blackmail on all of us, but a carelessly spoken word from Keith could destroy me. He might be out, but I’m not.
I don’t want to be.
I can’t be.
More than that, though, I don’t want this young man, who’s trembling before me.
I want someone who can stand tall and take everything I have to offer.
I want Hyacinth.
“I’ll pass for tonight,” I tell her.
Her brows shoot up. “Why?”
I scowl at her. “Does it matter?”
Genevieve purses her lips. “I suppose not.”
But she’s always digging for more information, and while I do consider her a friend, she’s a dangerous ally to have.
She waves a hand, and the four of them return to stand by the wall.
None of them would look good in red.
“I’d like to know more about what Teddy was able to learn about Cuore,” I say quietly once we’re alone near the corner of the room.
“Not enough,” she says. “He has no digital footprint, or if he does, he uses aliases Teddy couldn’t find. He doesn’t even have a single social media page.”
That would be surprising if Hyacinth wasn’t an assassin by trade.
Genevieve motions for me to follow her down the corridor. We walk past the other guests, including Keith Harrington, who is talking to a pretty young man.
It turns out that being openly gay doesn’t stop a man from being a serial cheater. Half the men who show up here have partners or spouses.
We enter Genevieve’s private office, where Teddy is sitting on the floor, laptop open on the coffee table in front of him. He looks over his shoulder at us and nods in greeting.
“Hi, Zane. ‘Sup?” he asks.
As per usual, he’s shirtless, and Genevieve’s collar is secured at his throat.
I wonder what Hyacinth would look like in my collar.
The thought startles me. I’ve never wanted to collar anyone before, never wanted that sort of commitment or declaration.
“I need to know about Hyacinth Cuore,” I tell him, ignoring my own thoughts before they drag me down into places I don’t want to go.
A few black curls fall into his face as he looks back down at his laptop. “Sure. It’s not a lot, though,” he offers.
I nod curtly. “Thank you. You did well identifying him.”
He’s always had a praise kink, so it’s unsurprising when he grins up at me. “Gen was happy with me,” he says smugly.
I glance at her, and she shrugs.
I can only imagine what kind of rewards she gives him when she’s happy with him. He isn’t typically out on the floor during her parties, instead supervising from the office. On occasion, he joins us, blissed out and kneeling next to her.
“Obviously, the Cuore Family is all about their privacy,” Teddy says.
He turns around on his cushion so he can look up at us more easily.
“But Hyacinth basically doesn’t exist. I couldn’t find a birth certificate for him, even.
If you hadn’t mentioned the Cuores at that event, I wouldn’t have known what to look for.
” He gives me a cheeky grin. “That led me down this other whole rabbit hole, about their history and the father’s arrest—”
“Focus, Teddy,” Genevieve chastises.
Teddy straightens his back. “Yes, Mistress. Um. I found something interesting from a few years back. Before you took over the Vilani Family, so it wouldn’t have been on your radar.
There was a dust-up between the Bouchards and Cuores, and I don’t have the full details but Chrysanthemum Cuore—that’s Hyacinth’s twin sister—relocated to Calamity City.
Stands to reason that Hyacinth might have gone with her. ”
“Chrysanthemum,” I repeat dubiously. “All right. Is she in the family business? Any other siblings? Daisy? Marigold?”
Teddy laughs. “I don’t think so? It’s hard to tell. The Cuore Family is kind of big, but aside from Oscar Cuore’s arrest two years ago, they’ve stayed out of the public eye.” He gets up onto his knees and smiles wider. “Can I tell him the best part, Mistress?”
Genevieve gives him an indulgent smile. “Of course. You earned it.”
Teddy turns to his laptop and clicks on something. “It took me forever to find this image. It’s the only one on the web.”
He pulls the laptop aside to give me a better view of it.
The photo is pixelated, zoomed in several times over, but it’s definitely Hyacinth with his distinctive, long, bleached hair. He’s wearing a dress in a similar style I’ve seen before.
Keith Harrington’s arm is around him.
I go still.
Keith and Hyacinth.
Together.
Is he the one who taught Hyacinth how to kneel?
Is he the one responsible for the assassination attempts?
He is a Bouchard, after all, though I don’t know why he’d want me dead.
“Any other information about the two of them together?” I ask, my voice calm despite the inferno raging inside of me at the idea of that smarmy bastard touching Hyacinth.
He isn’t mine, I remind myself. He doesn’t belong to me.
Hyacinth can be touched by anyone he pleases.
But Keith Harrington?
He has to have better taste than that.
“Keith wasn’t out five years ago,” Genevieve explains. “He wouldn’t have been broadcasting his relationship with any man, least of all a Cuore.”
Least of all a man like Hyacinth, who could be perceived the wrong way.
“Is that why Hyacinth and his sister went to Calamity?” I ask. “Is that what the fallout was from?”
Teddy shrugs. “The only thing Chrysanthemum posts about on her socials is her work.” He turns his eyes on Genevieve. “They’re really pretty, Mistress. Could we—”
“What work?” I interrupt him.
Obviously she isn’t an assassin if she has work she’s posting on her social media.
I imagine Hyacinth photographing his kills and posting those, and my lips twitch because it’s something I could imagine him doing if he thought he could get away with it.
Teddy clicks over to another tab on his computer, and I’m confronted with photos of beautiful, elaborate, and familiar outfits. A few feature a woman who looks strikingly like Hyacinth, except her hair is short and blue, and the swell of her breasts changes the drape of the blouses.
Now I know where Hyacinth gets his clothes. “This doesn’t tell me anything about Hyacinth and Keith,” I say.
“Then it’s a good thing he’s here, and you can ask him directly,” Genevieve points out. “You didn’t think I’d invited him because I like Keith, did you?”
“I should hope not,” I say. “All right. Thank you.” I glance between her and Teddy. This makes us even, which is something I don’t have to bother to voice. Anything beyond this, and I’d owe Genevieve favors.
It’ll do.
I head back out into the main room, where Keith is sipping a drink while he talks to someone I only vaguely recognize as another politician.
I’ll need to tread carefully with this.
I approach, an easy smile on my lips. “Good evening,” I greet the two of them. “A pleasure to see you, as always.”
We both know it’s never a pleasure, but the games must be played.
Keith raises his glass at me. “Cheers. Glad to see you got out of the restaurant unscathed.” He laughs and shakes his head. “And here I thought politics would be an easy-going, safe way to spend my next few years.”
I chuckle. “In New Valence? Hardly.”
“The crime rate is up this year,” Gerard Oakley replies.
“I’m sure Keith has ideas on how to combat that,” I say with a razor-sharp smile.
Keith matches my grin. “We’d have to cut to the core of crime. Get rid of all the people who are exploiting our beautiful city.”
“That sounds like something I can get behind,” I tell him. “Corruption is rampant these days.”
Gerard looks between the two of us, clearly sensing the barely disguised animosity. “If you’ll excuse me,” he says, taking a step back. “I need a refill.”
Never mind that his glass is half full.
“So what brings you here?” Keith asks. He gestures around the room. “Aren’t you usually whipping a few ladies until they cry?”
I shrug. “Not tonight,” I tell him. “I’m surprised you’re here without your partner. Or does he have a sensitive soul?”
Keith huffs. “Peter doesn’t like these kinds of parties. He’d cry at the first twinge of pain. He’s good at other things, though. And he looks great in photos.”
“He’s very photogenic,” I agree. “But you didn’t bring him to the fundraiser, either.”
Did he know something was going to go down? Maybe he arranged for it, knowing that Dante Cuore and I would be in the same place. It would help the Bouchards to get rid of all their rivals.
“No, Peter had his own work function. He was beside himself with worry when he found out what happened.” Keith gives me a pointed look. “How did you escape? You weren’t there in the main room.”
“No,” I say. “I wasn’t.”
I don’t elaborate.
I’d assumed that Hyacinth was at the event because of Dante.
Now I wonder if it was all a big misdirection.
It puts my focus on the Cuores, and the Bouchards keep scheming, unnoticed.
It’s the same kind of ploy that got my father killed.
So focused on the outside enemy, he never saw the snake lurking at his back.
So focused on rescuing me.
Now isn’t the time to reminisce about my nightmares.
I wave my hand dismissively. “What kind of entertainment are you looking for here? I’m sure Genevieve has somebody perfect for you.”
Keith doesn’t even bother to look around. “I was hoping for somebody a bit more durable. But none of the entertainment looks like they could handle a strong wind, let alone my whip.”
As loath as I am to admit it, I agree with him. They’re all so fragile.
Fragile, in a way Hyacinth isn’t.
The more my thoughts drift toward him, the more I think about the picture of the two of them together.
I want to ask him directly.
What did he do with Hyacinth?
How had Hyacinth knelt for him? Had Hyacinth submitted as wholly as he had to me? Had Keith made Hyacinth cry?
Whatever happened five years ago, it was messy enough to have at least one Cuore flee the city.
He’s mine now, I want to say to Keith. You’ll never taste his tears again.
But if I reveal that I know about Hyacinth, I could be playing my hand. No matter what Keith said, as soon as he opened his mouth, I’d want to see blood gushing from it.
Genevieve wouldn’t thank me for ruining her party.
This isn’t one of my own warehouses, where I can enjoy hearing somebody’s desperate begging.
There are rules here, ones that skirt polite society, but rules nonetheless.
But staring at Keith right now, I feel a deep, visceral hatred for him, one that I felt only once before.
Keith would look amazing with acid eating through his innards.