SIXTY-FIVE I WILL ALWAYS HAVE YOUR BACK, KATYONOK
SIXTY-FIVE
I WILL ALWAYS HAVE YOUR BACK, KATYONOK
Unknown Number: As a favor to us, would your husband see reason and permit Brothers Bordeau and Harrington their freedom?
I grit my teeth at the text message, an order couched as a request.
Victoria turned hysterical the moment she got home, shrouded in a black velvet cloak, clutching at a book in one arm and weeping over a bandaged wound on the other.
“Make sure the house is empty,” she begged me.
And I obeyed.
Then, she grabbed me, in a surprisingly ferocious hold, dragged me into a hug, and, into my ear, whispered, “Can you make sure there are no cameras or listening devices?”
If she hadn’t looked so desperate, I’d have told her the house had been swept earlier.
Instead, I watched as she closed all the drapes in our bedroom and darted over to the bathroom to vomit, giving me time to accede to her wishes.
The only device was in the book she brought with her.
I pointed to it and she stared at it with wide, horrified eyes.
Once I calmed her down after she burst into tears, I showered with her, tended to her, then got her into bed after I encouraged her to take a Valium.
She accepted the drug, then gestured at the book before whispering softly in my ear, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear it, “One chance to read it. Never again. The risk is too great.”
Whatever happened, whoever put her through this hell, I want to kill them.
And that they’re making requests of me has me wanting to lobotomize the fool who dared text her phone mere hours after they goddamn branded her.
Every tear she let loose, every time she vomited—I make a running total.
Someone will pay for her distress.
As I stroke her hair, staring at the book I tossed at the foot of the bed earlier, I settle my head back on the pillow.
The way she held the book, the way she looked at it—I know it’s bad news.
The bandage on her arm, how she flinched and shook when the water collided with it—I know my bride is a Veronian even without her uttering a word about it.
I press a kiss to the crown of her head in thanks.
Because whatever happened tonight, she tried to include me in it. She showed me the book. She offered to let me read it.
But I haven’t.
And I won’t.
If they ask, and I doubt they’ll refrain, I want her to be able to speak the truth with no fear of reprisals.
I ignore their message. I don’t give a fuck if they wait all week for an answer back from us, not after hearing her scream my name, or watching a town car sweep her away from me.
It was no consolation that her guards followed her.
No consolation that I tracked her to the lodge, even stayed there until I saw her leave it hours later.
Those bastards will regret stealing her from my house.
Kissing the crown of her head, I hold her close and fall asleep with her tucked beside me, her arm laid out so her hand can rest on a pillow.
I’m greeted with the sight of tears coursing down her cheeks as she wakes up.
The urge to kill someone is overwhelming, but she doesn’t need me to be homicidal.
She needs her husband.
Clucking my tongue at her, I clean the wound and change the bandage.
“They didn’t want you to see the brand,” she whispers.
“They’re shit out of luck then, aren’t they?”
Her lips curve in a faint smile that’s a milk-and-water version of her regular one. “Did you read the book?”
“No. You can tell me what I need to know. I prefer you to be able to plead the Fifth.”
“Not sure the Veronians care about our Constitution.”
“I’m not sure I give a fuck what they care about.” I glance at the wound that’s already seeping pink through the gauze. “I’ll get you a watch that’ll cover it.”
Her throat bobs. “That’d help.”
“First things first, we need to get it healed. I’ll have a doctor come around—”
“No one can see it!”
Hearing the panic in her voice, I hush her. “I think you’ll need antibiotics. It’s already showing pink streaks around the wound site.”
Bowing her head, she closes her eyes.
Watching her cry over those assholes has me releasing a pained breath.
I want to fix this for her. But I can’t. This is what she needs to do and I won’t stop her, not when the world would be a lesser place for not experiencing her fire.
“Sorry for being a baby,” she whispers a few minutes later, swiping at both cheeks with her good hand.
“You’re not being a baby. I’m being the baby. I want to castrate that fucker who branded you and then feed him his cock.” At her snuffled giggle, I continue, “One of those pricks texted you last night.”
Her brow furrows. “How do you know?”
“I read your phone screen.”
She rolls her eyes. “Can I read yours?”
“No. I’m smart enough to make my screen private,” I tease, happy when she sticks out her tongue at me.
“Pass it to me, please?”
Obeying the regal declaration, I watch as she purses her lips. “They want the hostages freed.”
“Tell them they can have them back, just not in one piece.”
I move so that I read her message as she types.
Victoria: Maxim warns you they won’t be in one piece
Unknown Number: His restraint is appreciated
Her brow lifts. “Restraint? When have you ever been known for that?”
“You wound me, kroshka.”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
“The fact they’re alive is a gift they don’t deserve. I only didn’t dispose of them because I figured it’d give you leverage. Seems I was correct.”
She pats my abdomen. “There, there.”
“I suffered not killing them.”
“I’ll stroke your… ego another day.”
“I’ll consider that adequate compensation for the emotional damage. Right, next move?”
She doesn’t answer me, but asks them:
Victoria: And what will you give him for their freedom?
“Interesting. Aggressive. I like it.” Settling amid the thousands of blankets, I take a seat beside her, sighing when she leans against me.
“Are you okay with me brokering this deal?”
“If you didn't have an injury, I’d fuck you.”
She snorts. “Maxim!”
“Brokering this deal?” I tsk. “Don’t talk dirty to me.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a fuck yes.”
Unknown Number: We have heard that a friend of his is seeking someone
Victoria: And you know where that someone is?
Unknown Number: Secrets exist at our leisure.
Victoria: He has two Veronians in his possession. You offer only one trade
Unknown Number: What else is it that he requires?
Before she can type anything, I rumble, “I don’t want you killing anyone else. That’s my job. Not yours.”
“Maxim—”
“No. I have no problem with you going in this direction. I haven’t from the start. But that side of things is not for you. It’s my job.”
She clucks her tongue.
Victoria: He requests that any actions such as the ones last night, he undertakes on my behalf.
Unknown Number: Such a simple request
Unknown Number: The spilling of blood provides him with secrets we might not want to share, however
Victoria: He’ll be sure to end our brothers’ misery tonight then
Unknown Number: We accept his request
“Tell him that if he threatens your freedom or takes you out of my house again, without forewarning, there’ll be consequences.”
She hums and then shows me her phone so I can read it.
Victoria: He warns that if anyone threatens my freedom or steals me away from him again, he’ll burn your society to the ground and return the brothers unfortunate enough to face his wrath to their families in pieces
I squeeze her tighter in my hold. “My dick is hard again.”
“Maxim!” She giggles.
“It’s true.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Send.”
Victoria: Direct quote
Victoria: “I’m not afraid of you, but YOU should be afraid of ME.”
Unknown Number: You are our sister. So long as you don’t fail us, your success is our priority
“We’ll see about that,” I gripe, reaching for my own cell phone.
Retrieving the coordinates, I transfer them to her device.
*Victoria sends coordinates*
Victoria: Our brothers can be found here
“Tell them that it’s business as usual after tonight.”
“What?! No!”
“Yes, Victoria. There will be advantages to your membership that they should know they can rely on.”
“You’re not their stooge!”
“No. But it will add to your value. Don’t forget, you’re in, but you’re still low down the rungs.”
A shudder rushes through her, but she types:
Victoria: My husband wants you to know that it’s business as usual
Unknown Number: That is VERY good to hear.
Unknown Number: But we are family now, are we not?
Victoria: Yes.
*Allow Unknown Number to share a document?*
She hits “yes,” but her eyes bulge once she opens the file.
“Yseult Brackton’s pseudonym is ‘I Told You So’ and she’s attending Oakwood College as Morgan Neige.”