Chapter Fourteen
Irvin
I stare at the text message sent to me earlier from one of the board members. They’re ready to set my sentence for marriage to Lilac. They’re going to inform me of my trials. I’m not worried about it. I knew the consequences of my actions, so now I have to deal with them.
My breath catches as I tuck my phone in my pocket. I glance at my Patek Philippe watch, noting I have only ten minutes left before my hearing starts. I place my vape pen between my lips, inhale deeply, exhale—then hook the vape behind my ear.
I straighten my spine, march up to the steel doors, and the warm air greets me as I step inside.
Two guards dressed in black suits stand by the entrance.
Exhaling, I open a set of double doors. The smell of fresh Pine-Sol burns my nostrils.
The energy in the courtroom is tense, suffocating.
I loosen my tie. The tinted windows stretch across the dark walls.
The trial room feels like death at your back—cold. Distant.
Even the five board members perched on the bench give off the feel of icy corpses. Each of their masks is identical—long and birdlike, like the doctors’ masks from the plague. They used to be referred to as the Beaked Council back in the day, but now they’re called board members.
I’m afraid of them. Most of us are. They wrote our destinies and wanted us to be worshipped as if they were gods. We don’t know their names, nor how they started, but they rule most of the world.
My ears ring, and I slide my hands into my pockets as I stand in front of the oak bench. Snow steps out, wearing a dark suit, his white hair spiked up. He settles between two of the board members.
He frowns, dusts the invisible lint off his suit. The corner of his mouth curls. His eyes cut into mine—sharp. Cold. Like a blade.
“Irvin Ashford, you broke one of the rules. You married someone whose father isn’t part of the American Billionaire Club. Hence, no one knows where she came from, and you didn’t listen to your father’s demands not to marry her,” Snow states, reading from his notes.
I dig my nails into my palms until it burns. I feel the board members’ eyes judging me. If they’re expecting me to apologize for my behavior, I won’t.
I’m glad I don’t see Snow as much now that he’s CEO. When I graduate, I’m not looking forward to seeing his face more often either.
The silence between us is eerie, threatening.
I hear the door open. I turn to my left and see my father leaning against the wooden wall in the back.
Snow clears his throat, and I turn my attention back to him.
“You have two choices,” Snow states. “Be sent to Tartarus or complete the three trials.”
I straighten my spine. No need to delay my punishment.
“I’ll take the three trials,” I say nonchalantly.
Snow eyes me warily.
“Do you realize it’s life or death? If you don’t complete all three, you’ll die.”
I shrug. My life is meaningless. People die all the time. Plus, I know the consequences of my actions. As long as my princess isn’t harmed, that’s all that matters.
“Don’t come after Lilac. She didn’t know what she signed up for.”
Snow nods. “Lilac is my wife’s best friend.
I’ll make sure she’s protected. Very well, then.
Your trials start in a week. You need to prepare.
I’ll let you know where you need to be.” He runs his fingers through his hair.
“There’s something I want to run by you.
We’re investigating the death of your ex-fiancée—Elena.
She was found dead in her condo on campus yesterday morning at eight a.m. Clean bullet to the head. Where were you during that time?”
I crinkle my nose. Does he think I killed her?
“I was with my wife.”
Snow studies me like a lab rat.
“Would Lilac be able to verify that?”
I feel the eyes behind the masks watching me like hawks. My jaw flexes.
“Yes.”
Snow reads from his notes.
“Did you threaten her father—tell him you were going to kill him if you were forced to marry her?”
I exhale loudly through my teeth. No way are they pinning her death on me. If I were to kill her, I would have gotten rid of her body. Whoever murdered her was sloppy. I’m actually insulted that they think I killed her.
“What are you trying to say, Snow? That I killed her?”
He sits farther back in the leather chair, glaring at me.
“I don’t know. You tell me. You enjoy harming people.”
“Yes, I do. I’m bloodthirsty. But I only kill people for assignments—or if someone is a threat to me and my wife.”
Snow folds his arms across his chest. “Define threat.”
A muscle tics beneath my eye. I roll my eyes.
“If someone tries to physically harm me, or has harmed my wife—then I’m going to kill them.
We were raised to do that. The only difference is, I enjoy taking revenge on people.
You know what? It’s okay for you to kill Savannah, your father, and Samuel Jacobs—those people who were threats to Lyrical.
But because I like killing, I’m the problem?
“It’s different.”
I raise my eyebrow. “How so?”
“My father was trafficking women, including Bailey. Samuel Jacobs was paid by my father to kill my wife. And Savannah—she couldn’t take no for an answer to our arranged marriage that my father set up, so she stabbed Lyrical.” He exhales. “Meanwhile, you want to hurt people.”
“So. That’s the only difference between us, Revi. I enjoy the warmth of fresh blood on my fingers; you don’t.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t control yourself.”
This. Asshole. Is. Really. Pissing. Me. Off.
“Shut the fuck up, Snow. I don’t give a fuck if you’re in charge of the club, I—”
“Enough,” one of the board members barks. “We will have order here.”
Neither of us says anything. So quiet you can hear a pin drop.
“You have the same shoe size as the person w—”
“Cut the bullshit, Revi,” I interrupt him. “I have a date with my wife, and right now, you’re working on borrowed time.” I fold my arms across my chest.
A smile stretches across his face. He leans toward me. A brief nose wrinkle. “You are under investigation for the death of Elena Coldmere.”
My heart races. My fists clench. I’ve had enough of Snow’s bullshit. I straighten my spine. I’m not going to let Snow see he got the best of me.
“This is bullshit. I didn’t touch the girl. Ask her cokehead new fiancé. He probably did it. We all know Robert has a drug problem.”
“We’re investigating him too,” one of the board members says.
“Is there anything else?” I snap.
“No. You are dismissed,” Snow murmurs.
I exhale and walk toward the door. I’m getting the fuck out of here before I beat the shit out of Snow.
“Another thing,” Snow says before I leave, and I don’t bother turning around, “if you don’t complete the trials, I’m going to enjoy your execution.”
Lilac
I place my hair into a bun shaped like a bow and spray perfume on my cream sweater. I haven’t been this excited about going on a date in a long time—a date I actually wanted to go on. I want to be good to Irvin because he’s so good to me.
I slide on my gray coat. Irvin texted me that he’s here, so I rush outside, and he leans against his white Mustang, wearing a black dress shirt with matching pants. He opens the passenger door, and I slide inside, strapping the seat belt over my shoulder and sinking into the smooth leather.
Once he’s in the driver’s seat, he switches gears and drives off.
The sky is inky black, and stars scatter like diamonds.
I crack the window open and inhale a heavy dose of the crisp night air.
The cool wind nips at my cheeks. North Haven town roads are packed with cars, and we pass by decayed buildings in a blur.
I have a feeling this date is going to be good, which puts me in an even better mood.
I glance at Irvin, smiling, staring at his shirt.
His face is carefree and smiling. Does he know how hot he looks?
He has to. He reeks too much of confidence not to know.
“Where are you taking me?”
He squeezes my hand gently and flashes me a smile. “It’s a surprise.”
Thirty minutes later, we pull up to a cemetery. I open the car door and stretch my coat tightly across my body. The wind blows, making it colder. I feel like someone is watching us, so I peer around.
My pulse accelerates.
“What are we doing here?” I ask.
Irvin steps out of the car with a picnic basket in his hand and a black cloth.
“We’re having dinner with my mother.”
I crunch up my nose. “It’s dark out here.” I twist the hem of my dress. “I heard this town is haunted.”
He stands in front of me, beaming. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll protect you from the three-thousand-year-old ghost.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes. I can’t believe Irvin is convincing me to have a date with the dead. Creepy. Weird—but so Irvin.
“Don’t patronize me.” I punch him in the arm. “Have you done this before?”
He nods, intertwining his fingers with mine. “I do it every month. I eat and drink with her.”
My belly warms from his touch, and I squeeze his palm gently.
“So you practice hoodoo?”
“Hoodoo?”
“Yes. African Americans venerate their ancestors by having food with them.”
“Well… isn’t it folk magic too? Yeah, I don’t believe in plants and herbs, but I like to do this with my mother because she’s the only person I was close to as a child.”
A wolf howls in the distance. I hold on to Irvin’s arm, carefully scanning the graveyard.
Goosebumps sprout on my skin as we pass a few graves.
Some are filled with dirt, some are new.
I stop to read the headstone of a one-year-old.
I wipe the tear leaking down my cheek. Kids don’t deserve to die, they are the most innocent souls on this planet.
I like Irvin, but he’s strange—and I think that’s what draws me to him.
He sets the blanket down on the grass and pulls out plates and forks, setting everything up.