Chapter Thirty-Three
Scarlett
The next days are a flurry of anxiety at the fortress. Greyson spends most of his time with Cain, Max, and a few other Nighthawks, putting together a thorough attack plan and creating as many contingencies as possible.
I speak with my brother every day, and while he refuses to divulge the exact details of what he’s planning, he does give me tidbits on how he intends to attack and remove our father from existence.
Greyson’s notably irate around the apartment, though he’s careful not to take his mood out on me.
He does, however, fuck me every morning and night until I’m sobbing and begging for mercy…
and I drink up every drop of the attention.
I never thought the sort of sex he offers—restraints, toys, pleasure so acute it blends the line with pain—would appeal to me, but I’m learning many new things about myself.
I get lost in the sensations he creates, I get lost on the meteoric rise to every orgasm, and then, I get lost in Greyson’s arms as he holds me and tells me how much he adores me.
He now has two men accompany me to the greenhouse every day—usually Tobias and Max.
Max is perfectly friendly, but no longer seems to have a hint of interest in me as anything other than a friend.
He seems more preoccupied with the new task he’s been given…
a task of finding his own Chosen within the next few months.
When I hear about it, I don’t know how to feel…
though my heart does drop straight down into my stomach.
Another captive woman here. Another person taken from their life and dropped into this place. Another human being ripped from everything they know, chained, and disassembled until they bend or break…
Max asks me to be a friend to whomever he chooses. Asks me to try to make her comfortable.
I don’t have it in my heart to say no, so I agree, but it undeniably leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
I’ve found a place for myself here, but that’s largely due to Greyson fulfilling my calling and vocation—I get to work in my greenhouse.
I’ll have the opportunity to do world-changing research here, without the constraints of the rules of academia and hierarchies I’d need to respect in the outside world.
I’ve also found comfort and a kindred spirit in Greyson… but that was a long, twisted, painful road that I don’t wish on anyone else.
“Just promise me you’ll be kind to her,” I tell Max. “Please, be kind to her. I can’t stomach the thought of another woman enduring what I had to…”
Max gives me an incredulous, almost pained, look. “Scarlett, if you think I have it in me to ever do what Greyson did…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Then you don’t know me at all.”
Finally, the day of reckoning comes. While Greyson and I usually eat breakfast in our apartment and sometimes make our way to the dining hall for dinner, we’re in the dining hall for breakfast today.
The atmosphere is tense. There’s no banter between the guys, no jokes or jabs being tossed about… and that’s how I know today’s the day.
My stomach is so filled with anxiety that I can barely eat anything. Today is the day my father dies—if Eric does his job properly.
There are so many things that could go wrong. My father is such a dangerous person… and many men are about to venture out to his playgrounds.
Halfway through breakfast, Greyson forgoes any social niceties and pulls me onto his lap. He starts lifting forkfuls of food to my mouth, but I’m too anxious to indulge. I end up hiding my face in his chest, and while he murmurs admonishments, he lets me get away with it today.
I don’t care that I’m acting childish or petulant; right now, I need his comfort, and from the way he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my head, I think he’s more than happy to provide it.
“Precious Flower,” he murmurs. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”
A moment later, the aura in the room shifts from quiet to tense. I know without even having to look that Cain has entered the premises—any existing chatter falls silent, and the only noise filling the dining hall is the sounds of Cain’s footsteps carrying him up to the dais.
I force myself to lift my head from Greyson’s chest and shift sideways on his lap, watching as Cain ascends the final few steps to his throne and takes a seat on it.
The fact that he sits on a throne… the narcissism in that man is unbelievable.
“Today is the day many of us have awaited,” Cain says after a few beats, observing the room like a king surveying his court.
“Luther Sharpe and The Widowers will all die today. This will leave the Nighthawks as the uncontested leaders in the underground circles of assassins. Our expansion won’t be met with any resistance; operatives will be scrambling over each other to earn a place here…
but the selection process will be extremely exclusive.
I will also be talking with leadership about a program regarding Chosens, which will offer more structure to Nighthawks as they become eligible to select their lifelong partner.
” Cain pauses, sweeping a blank gaze over the room.
His eyes settle on me and linger for a few beats; my pulse speeds, fluttering away in my neck.
“Everyone knows their assignments,” Cain drawls after a few moments, still staring at me. “Finish your breakfasts and go get ready. Today, we remove the thorn that’s been stuck in our side for far too long.” A terrifying smile spreads on his lips. “And we do so painfully.”
Greyson takes me back upstairs and settles me on the couch in his office. He covers me in blankets, drops Luci on my lap, and tells me to stay put.
Then, he sits down at his computer and gets to work. I pet Luci and do my best not to fidget, even as my thoughts devolve into a mess of fear and chaos.
Today, my father dies. Or, he should die… but I can’t help thinking about the many assassination attempts there have been on him. Assassination attempts that never succeeded, because he’s clever.
He has to know that people are after him specifically. I’m certain he knows that the Nighthawks are coming for him—otherwise, he wouldn’t run—so he must be prepared.
“Thank fucking God,” Greyson sighs from the desk. I glance over my shoulder in time to see him rub his temples.
“What?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head. “Luther moving out now made me think there was a leak somewhere—a rat, either in the Nighthawks or in Eric’s crew.
Turns out it wasn’t a rat but dissent in Luther’s ranks that pushed him out.
Looks like the Widowers aren’t happy with their leader’s recent moves…
and it sounds like a lot of that has to do with you. ”
I blink. “Me?”
Greyson nods, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.
“Yeah, Flower. The first time I captured you, after I’d realized your innocence…
” he trails off with a swallow. “Boyce taunted the Widowers with the fact that we had you. He sent them videos of you down in the cell, bloodied and beaten, and made sure that as many Widowers as possible saw it—not just Luther.”
My brows furrow. “Why would they care about you having me? How would that cause any dissent?”
“They care because we’re a rival organization,” Greyson explains. “Because, on the outs or not, dead or not, you’re Luther’s daughter… and old organizations like the Widowers have twisted codes of honor.”
My jaw clenches. “Those men have no honor. If they did, they wouldn’t have let my father’s reign continue after he beat me. After he killed my mother.” My gut twists with pain. “He abused his children and killed his wife. There’s no honor in that.”
Greyson’s brows furrow. “Flower, to men like the Widowers, there’s nothing more dishonorable than allowing an enemy to have their kin.
I don’t know what Luther’s men knew about the way he treated his family, if anything—I imagine he kept much to himself.
But they won’t tolerate a rival organization having and abusing a daughter of their own. ”
I shake my head, curling my fingers into Luci’s fur. He blinks up at me, as if to ask what my problem is, and I force myself to relax with a sigh.
“So, the dissent in his ranks,” I prompt, gazing at Greyson.
He nods. “I don’t know details. Your brother got reports from one of his moles that the Widowers have been increasingly rowdy and displeased with Luther’s leadership over the last year.
It sounds like there are a few guys who think they’ll be better off as leaders.
My guess is that Luther knew a coup was incoming, so he moved shop to regroup.
” A slow smile spreads on Greyson’s lips.
“Now’s the time, Flower. Now is the fucking time to hit ‘em hard and get rid of them while they’re fighting. ”
I swallow, ignoring the prickle in my eyes. “Be careful, Monster.”
He blinks slowly. “Careful?”
I nod. “Don’t give me too much hope.” My voice cracks. “There’s nothing more dangerous than hope.”
I’ve been hoping, praying that my father would meet a brutal, bloody death for most of my life… and now that it might actually happen, I don’t know how to feel. If this mission fails…
This mission can’t fail.
“Flower,” Greyson says gently, standing from his desk and approaching me. “I told you I’ll give you anything you want in this world, and I meant it. I intend to start with your father’s head on a platter.”
My lower lip wobbles, and the sting in my eyes redoubles at his words, at his sincerity.
Had someone told me months ago that my Monster and I would come to this moment—me willingly sitting in the same room as him, me submitting to his delicious depravities and not just accepting his touch but enjoying it—I’d have called the nearest insane asylum.
Now, though, Greyson has become my support system. He’s become someone who matters to me, deeply. I’m realizing that I’ve grown to care about him deeply.
Maybe even…
No. I can’t think like that.