11. Hyacinth
ELEVEN
HYACINTH
After carefully removing all the hidden weapons, I bag up the now-red dress for disposal. It’s a shame, but no amount of bleach is going to save this outfit.
I send a text to Chrys.
Hyacinth
No more white dresses. They never stay white.
Chrys
But you look so good in white!
Hyacinth
I look good in white, once, and then I can never wear the dress again.
Chrys
You’re worse than some of the celebs I design for. At least they can give their clothes to charity when they’re done with them.
Hyacinth
I’m burning this one.
She texts back almost immediately, but I set the phone onto the sink counter and step into the shower.
The hot water feels amazing. The red sluices off me and into the drain, and I take a moment to simply breathe.
The day could have gone better, but this time, it wasn’t even my own fault. Dante is going to have a lot to answer for.
If I were at home, or even my own hotel room, I’d spend an hour in the shower. I can’t afford to linger longer in the Cuore manor though. I don’t want to be ambushed by any of my cousins before I’ve had a proper chance to collect myself.
Even if I do feel like sticking a knife through Dante’s ribs.
I wash my hair enough to remove the red tint. I’ll give it a proper conditioning when I’m at the hotel.
Ten minute showers are barely worth it, but at least the blood is off me.
I step out, wrap a towel around my hair and my waist, then go into the guest room to get changed.
My phone buzzes again. I expect it to be another complaint from Chrys, but it’s Forest this time, asking me to join him in his office.
Haven’t we done enough of these little heart-to-hearts lately?
I should blow him off. It’s been a long fucking day, all thanks to Forest’s brother. But disobeying will make my life unpleasant, so I sigh and pull on the t-shirt, sweats, and boxers one of the staff had provided for me.
I hate how I look in these formless clothes. I don’t do casual and dressed down. Sweats are for people who have given up on life.
I’d rather sleep naked than in a pair of sweatpants.
Unfortunately, Forest wouldn’t be half as amused as me if I turned up naked.
I make my way to his office.
“What’s this about?” I ask as I step inside. “I deserve to—”
I stop when I see who’s inside.
My mother is sitting across from Forest. She’s perched on the edge of the couch like she’s ready to get up at a second’s notice, ready to strike an opponent, and when she sees me, her eyes narrow. “You don’t know what this is about?” she asks, her voice deceptively calm.
Now I do.
I swallow and stand up straighter.
I wish I’d taken the time to blow-dry my hair. I look ridiculous, in the sweats and the towel wrapped around my head.
They can deal with it.
“The attack today?” I say, playing dumb. “You’ll have to take that up with Dante. He’s the one who dragged me and Avery along.”
Forest narrows his eyes. “Dante dragged you along? Why the fuck would he do that?”
I shrug. “Again, no clue. Ask him.”
“I thought you went to cause trouble,” Forest says. “Because you knew Keith Harrington would be there.”
If I had known, there’s no fucking way I would have gone along, Dante’s orders be damned.
“I never cause trouble,” I say.
“Is that why Zane Vilani is still alive?” my mother inquires. “After you dispatched several other men, somehow your target managed to escape with his life?”
How does she know that?
Oh. Avery.
That little snitch. I’m going to wring his neck.
“I’m not sure what you expected me to do,” I say. My heartbeat echoes in my ears. “It was a venue with a whole collection of public figures. Did you want me to risk being seen murdering an upstanding business man?”
She scoffs at me. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Hyacinth. It would’ve been child’s play to blame his death on the men who attacked the restaurant.” Her eyes fix on mine. “Do we need to go through training again?”
My blood goes cold in my veins. I force myself to smile regardless. “No. No, I know what I’m doing. It wasn’t the right time. He had his guard with him. I’m simply waiting for the right opportunity.”
“But you found the opportunity to murder some random biker,” Forest mutters. “The mood happened to strike you while you were out clubbing?”
Mom’s eyes narrow, but I ignore her. “He was a dick. A homophobic dick. You know I don’t put up with slurs.”
“I did not teach you everything you know for you to posit yourself as some kind of vigilante against homophobes,” she snaps at me. “Or have you forgotten self-restraint?”
Self-restraint.
I remember being six and being handed a live rat to murder. Chrysanthemum crying and shaking her head that she didn’t want to do it. The blood gushing to the surface. Its squeals as it died from the knife penetrating its flesh.
I remember being eight and locked into a dark room, where we’d had to find our way out without sight.
I remember being ten, chained to a chair and slapped until I could get myself out. Chrys softly begging Mom to stop. Not crying, because we both knew crying wouldn’t help.
I remember following Chrys on the balance beam, holding her steady, because falling meant stepping into glass.
I remember the first man Mom had made me kill, and how Chrys had thrown up. How Chrys kept throwing up, every single time she’d been forced to carve somebody up.
How Mom had pulled me aside and said she’d let Chrys give up on this part of the family business, if I could step up and do my job properly.
I open my mouth.
“If you’re a failure, I’ll need to replace you. Chrys still knows the basics.”
My argument dies on my tongue.
“I won’t do it again,” I mumble, lowering my gaze to the floor.
Shit.
Five years away from the city, and I’d almost forgotten what it means to cross my mother.
“Good. That means you can focus on your actual target,” Mom says. “Don’t get distracted.”
I feel like a teenager in front of her.
I nod. “I won’t.” I raise my head so I can look at Forest. “But I still don’t understand why we’re doing this. Starting a war with the Vilanis is—”
“None of your business,” Forest interrupts. “Worry about the killing. All you need to know is that it’ll serve the family’s interests if he’s gone.”
Mom’s stare is intent upon me as she adds, “And you do care about the family’s interests, don’t you?”
I straighten my spine.
“I care about the family,” I say flatly. “You know I do.”
One lesson she’d repeated, over and over, was that the family comes first.
Loyalty is the most important quality.
If the family gives an order, we obey.
The Cuores are the beating heart of this city. Without us, New Valence wouldn’t be the place it is today.
My Uncle Oscar—my mother’s brother—ruled the family with an iron fist before he’d been targeted by the district attorney and arrested.
I still don’t understand why he’s in jail instead of one of his many underlings. I would have gladly taken out whatever witnesses had the balls to speak out against any Cuore.
I hadn’t been in New Valence when it all went down, though.
Which makes me wonder why my mother didn’t take care of the problem.
Forest waves his hand dismissively. “All right. I need him gone by the end of the month.”
That gives me barely two weeks to finish the job.
“Understood.” I reach up to undo the towel around my head and drop it around my shoulders, then I nod to them. “I’m heading back to my hotel.”
I don’t wait for a response, but I grimace when I hear my mother get up and follow me out.
“Hyacinth,” she says when the door to the office closes.
I take a breath and turn to her.
It’s hard not to see myself in her features. I don’t know who my father was, but I didn’t get my delicate looks from him. Mother still manages to exude an aura of youthfulness, carefully cultivated to take people off guard.
None of them notice how cold and dead she is on the inside.
“Yes?” I ask, gripping the ends of the towel.
I hate that I’m facing her in a loose t-shirt and sweats. I might as well be naked.
I didn’t even have time to grab a weapon.
“How are you?” she asks.
What kind of a question is that? What response does she want? I thin my lips into a line.
“I’m fine,” I answer.
She shakes her head. “You failed. You gave your excuses to Forest, but I trained you better than that.” Her sharp eyes bore into me. “What really happened?”
“Nothing,” I snap.
I’m not going to tell her I’d failed—three times—because I’m too attracted to Zane Vilani for my own good.
“Is it because Keith Harrington was there?” she asks. “Are you still upset about that whole thing?”
I inhale sharply, and I can’t stop myself from sneering. “Yes, I’m still upset. It was a bit upsetting when it happened, and it’s still upsetting now.”
How does she even know about it? Forest swore he hadn’t told anyone.
Except if my mother wants to know something, she’ll drag the information out.
“Stop being upset,” she answers. “He was just a man. Carve out his heart if it’ll make you feel better, but you shouldn’t be this weak.”
I clutch the ends of my towel.
“Wasn’t I just told not to go on random sprees?” I snap. “Make up your mind.”
She doesn’t know about Zane.
Thank fuck.
“It wouldn’t be a random spree. You’d be taking out a Bouchard rival.” After another beat, she asks, “How are Chrysanthemum and Lionel?”
I almost laugh then. This is so fucking rich. They’re her own children, but she asks me about them.
“They’re doing fine. Chrys is taking clients in Calamity. Lionel is on his last year of university. Which you already know.” I shake my head at her. “You can call them and talk to them.”
For a split second, something vulnerable crosses my mother’s expression. It’s gone just as fast, replaced by her usual dead gaze. “They don’t answer my calls. I’ll have to visit.”
“I’m sure they’d love to have you,” I say sweetly.
They wouldn’t.
Chrys had practically begged me to let her join me in Calamity when I’d moved there, and I know Lionel wants to leave New Valence as soon as he’s done with university.
I don’t know why she bothered having Lionel at all. Chrys and I were always meant to be her legacy, but Lionel, six years younger than us, surprised everyone.
Maybe he was a backup when she realized Chrys was never going to follow in her footsteps.
“Goodbye, Mother.” I turn away from her, and this time she doesn’t follow.
Fuck.
My skin is crawling now.
I need something. A hard fuck. Nails raking across my back.
A whip.
My skin getting scored open, erasing all the memories from my mind.
Cock in my mouth, stealing my breath, and the only thing I need to think about is him.
I rush through the manor. I need to get out of here.
The only reason I don’t crash into Dante is all the years of dexterity training that were beaten into me. He stares at me, a small furrow between his brows.
“What are you wearing?” he asks.
I shrug. “I can’t be dolled up all the time.” I notice the tray he’s carrying, which is holding finger foods, a bottle of sparkling water, and two glasses.
“Who are you having late night snacks with?” I point to the second glass.
“Nobody.” Dante steps around me and keeps walking.
I’m too rattled to care about Dante right now. I find my boots and my phone where I’d left them, and I tab over to call one of the family’s drivers.
There’s a new text message from an unknown number.
Unknown
Opportunity knocks, Hyacinth Cuore.
Will you answer?
I inhale sharply. Zane. It has to be Zane. He figured out who I am.
He’d sent the message five minutes ago.
With unsteady fingers, I type back.
Hyacinth
Can you handle the risk? I might kill you.
Unknown
You can try.
This is stupid. Forget me killing him. If I submit to him, I’m the one who’s going to end up dead.
But right now, I don’t care.
Hyacinth
Your place or mine?