Chapter 2
HELENA
Turning up the music already blasting through my headphones to drown out the hum of voices, I grabbed a metal food tray and stalked toward the pass to retrieve my food. I breathed deep and tried not to panic as the server scooped food haphazardly onto my tray.
Look, I know my peas touching my mash shouldn’t make my skin itch, okay?
But I’ve given up trying to understand how my brain works.
Rushing to the nearest table, I plopped my tray down before the gravy trickling slowly toward my Yorkshire pudding would deem the entire disaster inedible, and quickly barricaded the offending gravy with a sacrificial carrot.
Could I eat now?
No.
I was starving, but there were peas and corn in the same segment and that was just…
offensive, because I hate peas, and they were getting pea juice on my corn.
This is why I hated the mess. Is it so fucking hard to get the food in the perfectly designed little tray segments instead of a barely edible pile? Uncultured heathens.
“Rossi.”
I glanced up long enough to see Adams swaggering past with his own tray overflowing in his meaty grip.
I grunted in acknowledgment, focusing on the great pea-corn divide of 2025 as my stomach growled its discontent. Silence stretched, and I spared him another glance, my irritation rising.
“What?”
“I spent two weeks on the Abeman job, and you snatched it,” Adams bit out, keeping his voice low. “That was my cheque.”
“Would have been if you hadn’t been utterly useless,” I replied, unbothered. “The file came up again, I took it.”
“I had him,” Adams seethed. “I had the driver paid off—”
“Bless,” I murmured, focusing on my task. “You tried, but there are no participation awards.”
Adams’s face turned a dusky red, and he leaned down. “That was a ￡17,000 contract. You owe me at least half.”
I snorted under my breath, the hair bristling on the back of my neck as he leaned in close enough to feel his stale breath on me.
“Did you hear me?”
“Unfortunately,” I muttered, still pushing vegetables around my plate.
I gave him a sweet smile, flashing my canines at him.
I had them capped with veneers five years back, the tips just a little longer than they should be, and sharpened to a point.
It was the one frivolous thing I had let myself splurge on.
I ran my tongue over the tip of one, and his gaze dipped to my mouth. Men were so fucking predictable.
“I am curious how you justify a half share?” I asked finally.
“I did all the damn wo—”
“You fumbled through an ass-backward attempt, implicated yourself by tipping off the driver, who I also took care of. All for nothing, as I dispatched the mark in his residence, which you also failed to do, you inept fool,” I quipped, without looking at him.
“Honestly. For shame. Go sit down before you trip over your own feet.”
His hand slammed onto the table next to me, my jaw clenching and my temper instantly flaring as my tray rattled with the impact and a sausage rolled into the gravy.
“Listen, you impudent bitch.”
“Careful now,” I warned.
He shoved my tray, scattering the food in a haphazard mess, and I saw red. I hated people touching my things. I hated people touching my food. God, I really just hated people in general, and I was fucking hungry.
“I’m talki—” His words cut off in a strangled scream as my fork impaled his hand in a crunch of bone and sinew, in a flash of uncontrollable temper.
“God dammnit.” I sighed, eyeing his quivering fingers reproachfully as a slow ooze of blood seeped out from under his palm. I was never going to get away from this godforsaken mess.
“Rossi!” I closed my eyes as my name was called, already calculating how broke I was going to be after this, and gave the fork a twist as I yanked it out.
I at least had to make sure I was getting the most value out of this next strike.
The move elicited a fresh wail from Adams as I turned to face my consequences.
“I know, I know,” I muttered, holding my hands up in placation, then realizing I still held the bloody fork and quickly tucked it behind my back.
A tall, harassed-looking blonde man I recognized as the Chair’s assistant, glanced from me to Adams and back again, his brow furrowed in concern.
Adams cradled his maimed hand. “She just bloody st—”
“Go see a medic,” the man interrupted, turning his attention to me. “And you are to report to the Chair by 1500hrs.”
Adams barked a laugh. “You finally fucked yourself, Rossi.”
My stomach flipped, though I made sure to keep my face impassive.
There was no dishonorable discharge from the Triarchy.
There was service, retirement, or termination.
And more members were terminated than retired.
If you hadn’t earned their trust by the time your usefulness ran out, there were no sandy beaches and cocktails in your future.
I checked my watch. 1440hrs. Wonderful. Guess I was going to the hangman hungry.
Tossing Adams the fork with a forced smirk, I headed for the exit and made my way through the maze of corridors to the lifts that would take me to the upper level, punching my code into the security pad that would only give you access if you had already been cleared by the Chair.
I didn’t feel fear in the normal sense—not like it seemed to affect others.
But I had the strange butterflies in my stomach I got before a kill, the type that came before an adrenaline spike I was slightly addicted to.
My life was just a chain of dopamine hits.
I worked for the high it gave me, and the work gave me the financial means to chase even more highs.
Cliff diving, swimming with sharks, or dropping a small fortune to obtain the prettiest set of black-market Japanese steel shuriken.
I didn’t care where the hit came from; I just wanted it.
When the chase ended, there was no one who was going to miss me.
I certainly wouldn’t be worrying about anything, so why waste energy fearing it?
The lift slowed as it reached the top floor, the door pinging as it opened into the foyer that led down toward the Chair’s office.
Her office. The woman who had changed the entire trajectory of my life the day she’d seen the value of my specific set of skills and had thrown me into a cell to come down off a GHB-infused haze, then offered me a job.
My initiation into the Triarchy had been somewhat of a novel experience that had sparked more than one objection, but I’d passed every test with flying colors, and my stats spoke for themselves.
Rapping twice on the door, I waited as the soft click of heels crossed the floor until the door swung silently inward and I was met with that same grey glare that had captivated me ten years ago in more ways than one.
“Come in.”
There was no reading her tone as she moved to the side, allowing me to step into her office and take quick stock of my surroundings. It wasn’t at all what I had expected.
A large, ornate wooden desk dominated the room, sitting on a thick dark rug.
There was a drinks cabinet off to the side, a comfy-looking chaise lounge in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the gloomy cityscape, rain sluicing against the glass.
A book was propped open on it with a blanket slung carelessly over the end in complete contrast to the order of the rest of the room.
The walls were a dark grey-blue, contrasting with the huge gold frame of an art piece that looked like my year’s wage still wouldn’t have been enough to buy it, and off to one side, an entire wall had been converted into a bank of sleek, modern screens.
They glowed softly in the low light of the office, dozens of displays arranged in clean, deliberate rows, each streaming something different: security feeds from Triarchy properties, encrypted communications scrolling in silent lines of code, and satellite maps of London marked with shifting points of data.
At the center of it all stood Erryn, eyeing me with frank appraisal.
“You have been reassigned,” she stated, waving an elegant hand to a file that lay on the corner of her desk as she took a seat.
I managed to hide my surprise as I picked up the file and flipped it open.
Receiving a contract directly from the Chair herself was not something I’d heard of happening before, and I wasn’t surprised to see none of the usual information within the file.
Just codes and a small amount of other information, with instructions to destroy after reading.
I scanned them all a few times, paying particular attention to what appeared to be two separate door codes before memorizing the location.
“This is an address in the new apartments downtown?” I asked.
“The penthouse of the Meridian to be exact,” Erryn offered.
“My penthouse. You have been reassigned as my personal guard for the foreseeable future.” Her lip curled slightly in disdain as she said it, and honestly, I was having trouble not showing my surprise.
Erryn Loxley was one of the deadliest contract killers the Triarchy had in its database before she’d been promoted to Chair.
She met my gaze and must have seen my confusion because she huffed softly in wry amusement.
“There has been a data breach in both Rome and Paris. Both Chairs have been relocated to safehouses due to sensitive information being amongst the leaks. I am, quite frankly, too busy to even contemplate a safehouse, and”—she waved her hand in my direction—“this was the compromise. You have level one clearance and are not currently tied to contracts that I cannot spare you from. This is all classified information.”
The analytical part of my mind took over, pushing aside my surprise at the turn this had taken, so I set the folder down and then clasped my hands behind my back.
“Duration?” I asked.
“Until the Head is satisfied that the security breach had been contained,” she replied. “I do not have a definitive answer for that.”
I nodded. “Twenty-four-hour surveillance? I would like the file on my counterparts to ensure there are no weak links.”
She seemed to approve of the direct line of questioning and leaned back in her chair, one brow raising slightly.
“One extra body in my affairs is more than enough. Don’t get me wrong, Rossi.
I am perfectly capable of keeping my affairs in check.
This is only to appease the Head. Play your part, stay out of my way, and I will see to it your strikes are removed from your record, and the cheque is worth the loss of any other contracts. ”
I shook my head.
“I cannot provide satisfactory attention around the clock.”
“You are not required to,” she said bluntly.
“I expect your complete attention for the duration of my working day. Once I return to my home, you are dismissed for the night.” A muscle quivered in her jaw, the only outward sign of irritation as she pointed to the folder before me.
“However, as you may have seen in the file, my guard is expected to be with me at all times. You will be permitted to stay in the guest room of my apartment until this ridiculous situation has been put to bed.”
The blonde assistant slipped silently through the door, shuffling a stack of papers in his arm before handing me one.
“You will need to sign this NDA before you leave this room,” he added. “Do you need me to walk you through the points?”
“Don’t bother,” I murmured as I placed the papers on the edge of the desk and scrawled my signature in the required places. “I’m assuming it’s a formality regardless. I would expect a bullet between my eyes and my brain scattered to the wind if I betrayed Loxley’s confidence.”
Ben blanched, and I smirked at him.
“I’m glad you understand the consequences,” Erryn said coolly.
“My privacy is something I will not compromise on, even if this is a direct requirement from the Head.” She glanced at her watch before raising her grey stare to mine.
“I expect you at the address provided by 2100hrs. The four-digit code is for the parking complex. There will be a key card at reception for you that will let you up the elevator. The six-digit pin is for my residence. Bring your belongings with you. And I abhor tardiness, so do not be late.”
I took it for the dismissal it was and inclined my head to her before turning to leave.
“The file?” the man called, picking it up and holding it out to me.
“Don’t need it,” I said.
“What about the codes?”
Tapping the side of my temple, I gave him a wink before pulling the door open.
“Got ’em.” I could feel the weight of Erryn Loxley’s gaze on the back of my neck as I left.
It clung to my skin even as I walked away and down through the levels, headed for my dormitory to pack as I processed the last thirty minutes.
I wasn’t sure if I had just fallen onto my feet or into the fire, but one thing was crystal clear: I was prepared to do anything to keep that woman’s attention on me.