21. Hyacinth
TWENTY-ONE
HYACINTH
For once, it’s not raining, but the humidity does nothing to help my hair or keep my clothes from plastering to my skin. My nipples and balls still ache from the torture Zane had put them through.
I find my phone and tab over to my texts.
Chrys sent me a picture of a new outfit she’d made. I send her a heart-eyes emoji, even though all I want to do is toss my phone into the gutter and be done with everything.
For one blissful hour, I’d been happy.
Of course I’m not allowed to be happy.
Lionel’s advice was fucking stupid. I’d known that going in. But Zane was there, and dominant, and taking care of me, and…
And nothing. Zane is just like every other closeted asshole out there.
I feel ghost fingers on the back of my neck.
Take you with me? Don’t be stupid. You’d stand out like a sore thumb.
I’m done with that shit.
I have to be done with that shit.
I find my texts with Dante. They’re all one-sided, me sending him a quick update without a single response from him.
Hyacinth
I need to talk to you
Please
It’s important
No response. No indication he’s even read the texts.
Why does it bother me, anyway? I’m an assassin, for god’s sake. The fewer people who know about me, the better.
I go back to my texts with Chrys.
Hyacinth
How many people know you exist?
Chrys
Um, a lot. I’m super famous.
Hyacinth
How many people know you have a twin?
Chrys
Not many… Why? What’s wrong?
Hyacinth
Nothing. Just curious.
Chrys
Liar.
Hyacinth
Yeah.
Everything I’ve done has been so Chrys and Lionel can have normal lives. So they can be known, and even famous, and find partners. I need to remind myself of that. I’d gotten swept off my feet again, the way I did five years ago, and it’ll only lead to the exact same downfall.
I take a deep breath and force myself to get up. I call a rideshare to pick me up from the rich neighborhood Zane lives in.
I’m only two blocks away from Zane’s house. He could still chase after me.
But I’m alone for the fifteen minutes it takes for the car to arrive.
It would serve him right if Mom killed him.
I have the driver take me into Dante’s neighborhood though. My phone buzzes with more texts from Chrys. I ignore them all, and I set my phone to silent so I can think in peace.
Forest tasked me with murdering Zane. I’d thought it was strange right from the start, but I didn’t care enough to question the order. I can’t figure out what we’d gain from Zane’s demise.
I’m thinking of we as the entire Cuore family, of course.
There are some things Forest might gain with Zane out of the picture.
I get out of the rideshare, make sure to tip the driver, then walk the remaining way to the Cuore mansion.
The security staff seem surprised to see me. One of them waves awkwardly, unsure of how to treat me—because I’m part of the family, but also not. An occasional guest who barely exists.
Wow, my thoughts are turning toward the stupidly dark.
“Where’s Dante?” I ask. “I have an urgent message for him.”
The guard who’d waved dithers. “He’s in the private sitting room, but he said not to disturb him.”
I’m not feeling particularly charitable towards anyone’s privacy right now. I make my way to the sitting room.
It’s locked, but that’s an easy fix. The lock isn’t elaborate, since the sitting room isn’t filled with secrets. Thirty seconds with a lockpick has the door click open.
I step inside.
“I locked that for a reason,” Dante’s exasperated voice says. “Get out.”
“No,” I answer, shutting the door behind me.
I find his ‘reason’ for locking the door fairly fast: a young man, bound and blindfolded, who is sitting at Dante’s feet.
Jealousy surges through me.
I could have had that, if Richard Moore hadn’t ruined everything.
The young man turns his head, squirming as he tries to get into a position where I can’t see every part of him.
But Dante has him too well bound for that.
Dante places his hand on the young man’s head and strokes it. “Shh. Calm. Don’t worry about him. He’s nothing.”
I clench my fists.
Of course I’m nothing.
Except I’ve never been able to convince myself of that, and I’ve never been able to turn off my emotions entirely.
I embrace the anger and stride over to the armchair across from Dante. I sit down with a flourish, making enough noise that the young man startles and whimpers.
Dante’s brow furrows in annoyance. “What do you want?”
“You didn’t answer my texts,” I say. “Of course I had to come in person.” I reach into my pockets and find the garotte. I run my thumb over the length.
I could kill the young man before Dante could react.
Why should anyone else be happy, if I’m not allowed to be happy?
I shove the thought down.
“Forest ordered me to kill Zane Vilani,” I state. “Just thought you should know.”
The young man goes completely still.
“For the record, snitches get stitches, and then fed to alligators,” I say for the young man’s benefit. “I do hope you checked him for wires.”
The young man is shaking, and I wonder how much of that has to do with what I’m saying and how much that has to do with Dante.
Dante’s expression turns furious. “You’re not touching a hair on his head,” he snarls. “And what do you mean, Forest hired you?”
“I mean just that,” I say. “Forest wanted me to kill Zane Vilani. After some deep introspection, I decided to refuse. Because I think he didn’t clear this one with you.”
Dante doesn’t say anything for a while. When the young man whimpers again, Dante turns his attention to him and strokes his head. “Shh. Relax. You don’t need to worry about anything.”
I roll my eyes.
I’m not this pathetic when I’m bound.
Judging by the man’s bondage, I could easily escape those bonds. It’s not particularly secure.
“So?” I prompt. “Are you telling me you did authorize the hit?”
I don’t know what I’ll do if he did. My entire vague plan hinges on Dante being unaware and disapproving. Otherwise, there’s no way to keep Zane safe.
Which I shouldn’t care about, not after how he treated me.
How dare he pretend I’m not worth having at his side.
“I didn’t,” Dante finally responds. “I’m contemplating what Forest stands to gain.”
I don’t care about the reasons. “It’s your problem now.” I extend my foot enough to brush against the bound man’s foot. He whimpers and flinches.
Dante snarls at me. “Don’t touch him.”
“It was an accident,” I say, not bothering to sound apologetic. “If you’re calling off the hit, tell my mother, too. She’s been on my case about this.”
The young man breathes heavier. He’s close to hyperventilating, actually. All because I’d brushed against his foot?
I hope his panicked reaction means he won’t remember enough to talk to the feds about us.
Fear of Dante usually keeps people’s lips closed, though.
“Get out,” Dante barks.
I stand and brush my hands over my skirt. “Yes, yes. I’ll get out of your hair. I’m nothing, after all.”
I sound like a petulant brat.
I’m not even a brat in bed. I’m obedient, and submissive, and I don’t flinch from a simple touch.
Isn’t it pathetic, that I want to be owned like Dante’s little pet? That I still long for a collar and leash around my neck?
I storm off, not bothering to close the door when I leave. I go to the same guest room I’d used last time, and I flop onto the bed. I’m sure I have a bunch of missed calls, again.
Chrys is worrying too much about nothing.
I fumble with the TV remote and turn it on, idly flipping through the channels. I’m sure there’s a subscription on-demand service somewhere, but I have no idea what I want to watch so I keep pressing the button.
I stop when Keith Harrington splashes across my screen.
“I’ve always said that I’m on everybody’s side,” Keith explains to the interviewer. “That’s why it’s not about big or small, Republican or Democrat. I would support all residents. There is a win-win scenario.”
What a fucking joke. I hover over the button to change the channel.
“Now, some people criticize your commitment to LGBTQ rights,” the interviewer says. “Even though you’re the only openly gay candidate.”
My breath catches.
What?
I sit up to get a better angle on the screen. Keith gives the interviewer his winning smile. “Well, not all gay people agree on the same things,” Keith says. “I’m allowed to disagree, just like not all straight people agree with everything. But I do think everybody deserves—”
What is this fucking joke?
I clutch the remote, then throw it at the TV. It bounces off the screen and lands on the floor with barely a thud.
Keith keeps talking, but the words are all fucking nonsense.
“—my partner—”
No. He can’t have a partner. He can’t have a partner that he prances around with and takes to events and talks about because that would hurt his career!
He kept saying that, over and over, and how can he smile and pretend that he’s nice and affable when I know he’d send me after his opponents without so much as a single afterthought?
When I had taken out one of his business rivals?
My vision swims.
He’s not allowed to do this.
I reach for my phone and type in his name. I’ll find his partner. I’ll murder him.
No, I’ll murder them both.
This nothing can still do something.
My phone pops up another text from Chrys. I go to dismiss it, annoyed at how concerned she is.
The texts with Zane are at the bottom of the screen.
I stop and stare, then tab over to them.
He’d wanted me. He’d wanted me enough to risk his life. He was willing to play with the devil.
Only play, though.
Nothing permanent.
The anger rushes up again. He’s doing the same thing Keith did. He thinks I’m easily hidden away. Easily discarded.
Fuck that, and fuck him.
Hyacinth
You didn’t want me to be good for you.
But I can be very, very bad too.
You aren’t rid of me, Zane Vilani.
I hit send before I have time to rethink the texts.
Zane
I don’t want to be rid of you.
And I don’t want you to be good. How would I punish you then?
I laugh at the text.
Hyacinth
Like you could ever punish me.
Watch out. You’re going to regret rejecting me.
Zane
I didn’t reject you. You left.
I roll my eyes. No, fuck that. He’s a coward, and I’m not going to let him get away with any of this.
I stuff my phone into my skirt pocket again. I turn the TV off, then go out. My fingers itch to hurt somebody. Richard Moore. Keith Harrington. Zane Vilani.
I’m still deciding who to torture when I bump into Avery. He startles when he sees me.
“I didn’t realize you were…” Avery trails off. “You okay? You look a bit… murderous.”
I smile at him. “Do I?” I twist a lock of hair around my finger. “Why? Do you have somebody else who needs to be… erased?”
“I can think of someone,” Avery says darkly. “But that might cause too many complications. You really should get another hobby, you know. Murder becomes a habit.”
My smile turns brittle. “Yes? What hobby should I get, that would serve the family? Who’s going to take up my hobby, if I don’t do it?”
Avery gives me a sidelong look. “You can have more than one hobby, you know,” he says. “Sometimes people do things just for fun. You should try it sometime. Come to the club, dance, chill out, do something other than spill blood.”
It feels like a slap in the face.
Every single one of them has been so happy to use my services. His father certainly never shied away from giving me orders before he was jailed. Even Avery had me remove an inconvenient person barely a week ago.
“Oh, of course, let me simply go out and be filmed by all the people there,” I suggest airily. “That sounds like a marvelous idea.”
“You’ll only get filmed if you do something stupid,” Avery remarks. “Okay, so try something else. There’s a fancy party on one of the riverboats this weekend. I happen to have an extra ticket. You could be my plus one.”
I stare at him. “Why in the world would I want to go on a fancy riverboat tour with you? No offense, but I don’t want to go on a date with my cousin.”
“I hear Zane Vilani will be there,” Avery says, quirking a brow. “You two seemed awfully cozy in that kitchen.”
Zane Vilani, on a riverboat party.
He’ll be dressed up even more than usual.
“There’s a dress code, too,” Avery mentions. “It’s a masquerade.”
My breath catches. I could easily walk among the guests, wearing a beautiful dress and a mask.
I’d be able to sneak up on Zane.
I could kiss him in public.
I could slit his throat in front of the entire crowd.
“You know? I think I will take you up on that.” I smile at him. “I can think of some very fun things I can do.”
I’m done being nobody.
Everybody will see exactly who I am.