3. Rowan
three
Rowan
Three years later
R ed light cuts across my face as I peer through the thick cigar smoke curling through the shadows. Men in black tailored suits lounge in leather chairs, drinks in hand as they exchange words between puffs of deadly nicotine. I’ve never been here before, but Maddox has. He knows where we need to be.
Many government agents frequent this club often, but the list goes far beyond public servants. Mafia heads, billionaires, men with influence, they all come to The Hive for one thing only: to hire honeypots. Young, attractive people trained to seduce, spy, and annihilate their clients’ rivals in ways so subtle you’d fall to your fucking knees and thank them for the honor.
On the inside, the place doesn’t look much different from a gentlemen’s club. There’s a bar, subdued music, and private booths where no one dares question what you might lay on the table. It’s all a facade, though. And a pointless one, if you ask me, since no one gets to come here without an official invitation, anyway. But I guess they can’t be too careful.
Maddox stops in front of a black curtain, where a single goon is guarding whatever is on the other side.
“We’re here for Shalone,” he says.
The goon doesn’t answer. Instead, he inches closer and starts patting him down, looking for anything that might put the Matron’s life in danger. They already searched us twice when we arrived.
When he’s done with Maddox, I’m next. I clench my jaw and jerk my shoulder free from his grasp when he sees I have nothing on me either. The curtain is drawn back and I follow Maddox inside, where a long corridor leads us into a much larger and darker room. It almost smells like a fucking church in here—there’s a cool earthiness wafting from somewhere in the distance, mixed with the faint scent of old wood and spices of some sort. The Matron’s honeypots are well known for the strength of their handmade poisons, which I assume is what my senses are picking up.
“How do we find her?” I ask him, dusting myself off. “This place looks like a fucking maze.”
“We don’t. She’ll come to us.”
I don’t like that answer. Maddox is already campaigning to become president from his current role as a senator. I’ve just won the war in the Ridge for President Delaney, and more people want us dead than I dare to count. But if you’re here for business, you come alone—no security, no team, no nothing. It’s the Matron’s only rule and a risk we had to take, according to our plans. Still, I want to get Maddox out of this shithole as fast as possible.
Fortunately, it doesn’t take long before we’re approached by someone. Man or woman, I have no fucking clue. They’re wearing a long, red cloak with a hood and a plain white mask with two holes for eyes. What honeypot we might hire and the assignment they’re given is never to be disclosed to the other club members. Privacy is a priority for everyone who comes here, and Shalone understands that.
Except… we’re not here to hire anyone at all. But that’s not what we told her.
“Gentlemen,” the person says, the voice warm and smooth like melted chocolate.
So a woman, then.
She walks right past us, and I follow Maddox, who starts moving in her direction. We’re then led through another corridor until finally stopping in one of the empty rooms. The gentlemen’s club feels so far away already, as if we’ve entered a completely different building.
I let the woman go through the doors, but Maddox and I share a quick look. They could corner us right now if they wanted to. I’m already looking around and thinking of ways to take us out of here if need be.
“If we wanted you dead, we would’ve come to you, Commander,” she says, jerking her head toward the door. She wants it closed. “We don’t hold corpses here to sully the place.”
As if.
Before either of us says anything she unbuttons her cloak, revealing a sleek, figure-hugging silk dress in black. The fabric shimmers under the dim lights as she takes off her hood, her blond hair swaying behind her like a golden veil.
“You’re not Shalone,” I say, not letting her out of my sight.
“Perceptive,” she answers with a smile in her words, the ebb of her voice trained to perfection. Not too soft, not too bold either. Just the right amount of tease that she can easily reel back if she wants to.
I admire her precision, I really do. But if she thinks that will work on either of us, she’s mistaken. The more I look at her, the more restless I grow for checking my phone’s live view of Dove’s cameras in her new apartment.
She’s moved out of her parents’ house. She’s studying to become a lawyer in Washington. I’m so fucking proud of her, but I never get to tell her that in person. I’ve been watching her for so long while the war was ongoing… and as soon as I’m out of here, I plan on going there to see her. Only for a few minutes—she won’t even know I’m there.
Just this morning, the image of her spreading herself out on the bed and calling my name when she touched her own cunt drove me fucking insane. To think that after all these years she still thinks about me baffles me. I’ve given her no reason to. And it seems my drastic war campaign didn’t change her mind about me like I hoped it would. Part of me feels relief, while the other part continues to shout into my brain that I can’t touch this woman. I know I can’t, I just…
I sigh, the recording flashing through my mind one last time. It’s perfect. She’s perfect.
“We’re leaving,” I say when I realize this woman still hasn’t told us who she is.
“Your friend here looks like he’d like to stay.” She cocks her head toward Maddox, the mask still covering her face as the curtain of blond hair drapes over her shoulder.
“Who the fuck are you?” Maddox asks, as I hear him close the door behind us.
But she doesn’t answer. Instead, her manicured fingers wrap around the edges of her mask as she drags it away from her face. Inch by inch, she reveals herself to us, her high cheekbones and elongated eyelids leaving no room for interpretation about who she is.
We know this face.
We’ve been searching for this face.
Fuck knows how many hours Maddox and I spent looking at her files, trying to locate her. In the end, we found out she’s a honeypot, so we came here. But we’re not looking to hire her. We’re here for information, and this woman might just be the key to everything we want to know.
Which begs the question… how did she get to us without the Matron knowing about it first?
She takes a few steps back until her hips meet the edge of a table and she leans against it. I don’t have to look at Maddox to know he’s just as stunned as I am.
“You may call me Cam. But before either of you does that, let’s get one thing straight,” she says, clicking her tongue. “I know you’ve been looking into me. But you do not summon me, gentlemen. Not now, not ever. The only reason I’ve met you is because I want something you have. And you’re going to give it to me.”
Camelia Adelstein .
Daughter of Salister Adelstein.
And first-class member of the EFW.
Her father leads the organization, and from our research, she’s been used as a puppet to carry out his dirty work, just like anyone else in that hellhole. Salister is not the man who makes exceptions, not even for his own kind. But to force his own daughter to train under the Matron is another level of fucked up.
“Camelia,” Maddox draws out her name, the word bitter on his tongue as he takes her in. He hasn’t been the same after Cole’s death. Neither have I. And facing any member of the EFW since then has pretty much ended in a bloodbath. But this time, we’re supposed to talk. This time we’re supposed to be fucking civilized.
If Cam is bothered by the way Maddox says her name, she doesn’t show it. And when he takes a step toward her, she doesn’t falter, either.
“You’re a hard woman to find. And yet you show up here, all alone, with two men who aren’t particularly happy about you being alive. I didn’t take you for an idiot, sweetheart.”
She scoffs, inspecting her nails.
“Women have been misjudged from the beginning of time, Senator. And you give yourself too much credit. I have no reason to fear you.” She lifts her chin in defiance, her eyes shifting between the two of us. “I need one of you to do something for me. In exchange, I’ll give you information that will both advance your presidential campaign…” She glances over to Maddox. “And keep you in charge of the military from here on,” she then says to me. “That’s why you’ve been trying to find me, isn’t it? To get information? Well, I have it. The question is… what lengths are you willing to go so you can get it from me?”
“Torture comes to mind,” I say, cracking my neck. “Wait for you until you leave the club, press some chloroform over your nose and mouth, that kind of thing.”
“Might I remind you it took you months to figure out I was a honeypot? I’m always two steps ahead of you, gentlemen. From the moment my name popped up on your search results, I knew. And I made sure you wouldn’t find me until I wanted you to know where I was. Now—”
“What do you want?” Maddox growls. “And since you seem to be so damn resourceful, why are we even having this conversation? You seem quite capable of doing your own dirty work.”
A flicker of a smirk flashes on Cam’s face before she crosses her arms.
“Capable, yes. But contrary to your assumptions, I’m not an idiot. As a honeypot, my hands are tied. We’re not permitted to dispose of people outside of the jobs we are assigned. If we do…” She breathes in as her eyebrows rise. “The Matron disposes of us next.”
“We’re not murdering anyone for you,” Maddox deadpans.
Aren’t we? I don’t fucking like it, but if her intel is good enough, we might. Classic Maddox, though, to shut down the idea before hearing out the rest of the details. Can’t say I blame him—he is running for president, after all. He can’t get his hands any more dirty than he already has.
But I can.
Cam smiles as if she doesn’t believe him. “The deal is… you get rid of Governor Castillo for me. And I’ll give you your intel. It’s big. And without it, you’re screwed. Both of you.”
A moment of silence passes between the three of us. I can’t help but notice the way she holds her breath in anticipation of our agreement, as if she’s scared that we’re going to refuse. As if she needs us more than we need her. The question is—what for?
“Tell me this, Miss Adelstein…” I say.
“Cam,” she corrects me. I ignore it.
“Why would the famous daughter of the EFW leader give us any intel at all? Why are you here, and not asking your daddy to take care of things for you? Hmm?”
She pushes herself away from the table she was leaning against, pulling the cloak back on her shoulders.
“That’s none of your concern. Get it done by the end of the week. When I see it on the news, I’ll call you with the rest of the information.” She leaves an old phone on the table, then moves to walk past us, but Maddox doesn’t get out of her way. Which is perfect, because I wasn’t going to agree to this deal without proper negotiation.
“No,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“Give us the intel now, and we’ll take care of it. Otherwise we don’t have a deal. There are plenty of other EFW members we can hunt down instead of you to get the answers we need.”
“Wow, you two really think I’m an idiot.” She laughs, then crosses her arms, considering it. “I’ll give you half. Half now and the other when it’s done. And trust me, you’ll want to hear the rest of it.”
“I don’t trust a fucking thing that comes out of your mouth, Camelia,” Maddox says. “Give us the intel. Then we’ll consider your proposal.”
And maybe it was because she thought she still had some kind of upper hand, or because she really was desperate, but the next words that spill from her lips were exactly what I feared she would say.
That the war in the Sylvestrian Ridge isn’t over.
That her father had been meeting with Sergeyevich Kozlov, Russia’s president, and they might join forces to aid the coalition I fought to get rid of for the past three years.
That they’re planning an attack somewhere within the next few weeks.
And that it’s going to be big—big enough that if we’re not ready, we’ll lose the Ridge, our economic power, and the trust of the entire nation.
“Where?” I ask, my blood boiling with annoyance and restlessness. “Where is the attack going to be, exactly?”
“I’ll tell you when you’ve disposed of Governor Castillo for me. Have a good evening,” she says, putting her mask back on and covering her blond hair with the hood.
The click of her heels gets more and more distant and Maddox looks at me with his jaw clenched.
“We’ll find another way,” he says.
I shake my head. There is no other way. And I won’t go through this whole thing again for fuck knows how long. I’ve got somewhere else to be tonight. “I’ll do it.”
“We’ve gone too far already. We don’t even know why she wants him dead.”
“Does it matter?” I ask. “Castillo is a degenerate who beats his wife and children on the regular. We’d be doing them a favor.”
“All these lines we’re crossing, Rowan… they’re going to come back on us. What then?”
“That’s a problem for the future. Right now we need to defend ourselves. Then I’ll figure out a way to push back the coalition again. If they win this war—”
Maddox squeezes his eyes shut, not wanting to hear it. This is all because of what happened to Cole. Instead of pushing forward, he’s backing out. But I won’t let him. He’s worked too hard and we’ve come too far.
“I can’t let you take another hit for me,” he says. “For us. This plan we’re chasing… it’s going to take our fucking souls. Are you prepared to lose that?”
“Can’t lose something I’ve never had.”