by Hart, Stella
I leaned down to give her a brief hug. “Sorry. I went to visit a friend.”
“That’s okay. I hope you had fun.”
“I did.”
She smiled again. “Good. Anyway, why did you want to have lunch with me today?”
“I had some ideas about the Carlton campaign. I was thinking—”
My sentence was abruptly cut off by Willow’s arrival. She pretended to trip over her own feet right next to me before wobbling and lunging forward to regain her balance. In the process, she pushed the serving tray right into my mother, who inadvertently toppled backward, hitting the corner of the accent table with a sharp yelp.
“Are you okay?” I asked, grabbing her left arm to steady her.
“I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her lower back with a grimace.
I glared down at Willow. She was on all fours on the tiles now, fake-blonde head facing downward as she scrambled to pick up the tray and plates she’d dropped after she barreled into my mother. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I said in a vicious tone. “Are you completely incapable of watching where you’re going?”
Willow mumbled something under her breath. I waved a hand. “Get the hell out of here,” I said. “I’ll get someone else to clean this up. Someone who isn’t a complete moron.”
She fled down the hall and vanished around a corner. I turned back to my mother. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
She winced as she rubbed her back again. “I’ll be fine. I hit that table very hard, though.”
“You should sit down for a while,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Come with me.”
I escorted her to the sitting room and helped her onto her usual spot on the sofa. Then I gave her a warm smile and reached into my pocket to grab two small white capsules. “I actually have some Tylenol on me. Thought I might need it for the hangover this morning,” I said. “It should help with any pain.”
She accepted the capsules with a grateful expression. “Thank you, darling. It’s aching quite a lot.”
“I can’t believe that idiotic maid. She could knock someone down a flight of stairs with that clumsiness.”
My mother sniffed. “I know. It’s so hard to find good help these days, no matter how much money you throw at them. People just don’t want to work hard anymore.”
“Yeah. Did you notice how she didn’t even apologize?”
Mom’s brows gathered together. “Yes, I did notice,” she said in a venomous tone. “Honestly, I’m wondering if we should fire her for that attitude alone.”
“I think we should,” I said, nodding gravely. “Do you want me to get her in here?”
“Yes, please.”
I headed over to the door and flung it open. “Speak of the devil,” I muttered, glancing back at my mother over my shoulder. “She’s right down the hall dusting a painting.”
Her nose wrinkled. “Call her in.”
I turned back to the door. “Hey, you!” I shouted down the hall. “Get in here!”
Willow scurried inside, head down and hands clasped in front of her.
I slammed the door behind her and locked it before standing right in front of it to block the exit. “Do you know why you’re here?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
Willow nodded and raised her eyes. At the same time, she removed her glasses and short wig before tossing them to the floor. “Hi, Liz,” she said in the coldest tone I’d ever heard.
Mom’s eyes almost bulged right out of their sockets. “Willow!” she choked out, leaping to her feet and pasting on a nervous, wavering smile. “You’re…. uh… you’re back from your trip. How lovely!”
I pressed my lips into a thin line as I watched her pathetic attempt to recover from the surprise. “Save it, Mom. I know everything.”
Her fake smile faded, and her gaze jumped to my face. “What… what do you mean?”
“I mean I know you’re Q, and I know you sold Willow to the Keshari Crown Prince.”
She gaped at me for a long, tense moment. Then her eyes went flat and cold as she finally dropped all pretense of innocence and normalcy. “How the hell did you survive that crash?” she asked, eyes snapping back to Willow.
“I was never on the plane,” Willow replied. “Jamie went behind your back and stole me from the prince. He put another girl on that plane instead of me.”
Mom’s eyes widened again, and she reached for her coat pocket. I snapped my fingers at her. “Before you go for your phone, know this,” I said. “Firstly, our friend Rowan has jammed all the signals in this room, so you can’t call or text anyone. Secondly, you don’t even need to call Jamie to rip into him for what he did, because he’s dead.”
Her brows shot up. “What?”
“I said he’s dead. We killed him yesterday,” I said, lips curling into a disdainful smirk. “If you’ve been trying and failing to contact him over the last eighteen hours, now you know why.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t believe you. Jamie would never let anyone get the best of him. He’s too smart and too paranoid.”
Willow took a step forward. “Everyone has a weak spot. Something that’ll make them drop their guard,” she said, arching one eyebrow. “Jamie’s weak spot was actually pretty simple. The same as most men. I’m sure you can figure out what it was.”
My mother’s face blanched, and she took two shaky steps back.
“Take a seat, Mom,” I said, motioning to her spot on the sofa. “I’m sure you’re not feeling very well right now.”
She quietly sat down, shocked gaze focusing on the fireplace on the opposite wall. “How did you find out about me?” she asked, scrubbing a hand across her right cheek.
“Long story short, you fucked up,” I said. “You trusted me too much because I’m your son. But don’t beat yourself up too much. I made the same mistake for years. I trusted you because you’re my mother.”
She took a few deep breaths before rising to her feet again. “You won’t get away with this. Either of you,” she said, staring icily at me and Willow in turn. “You can keep me trapped in here as long as you want. It’s only a matter of time before my shadow council notices I’m not responding to any calls, and when that happens, they’ll come looking.”
“That’s not going to happen, because we’ll get the jump on them before they have any clue what’s going on here.”
“No, you won’t. You obviously don’t know who they are, aside from Jamie, or else you would’ve already dealt with them before confronting me,” Mom replied, eyes gleaming with a spark of triumph.
I smiled patiently. “I see you think you’ve regained the upper hand by figuring that out, but you haven’t,” I said. “By the time your little cronies realize something is up, you’ll already be dead.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that I’ve known the truth about you for quite some time now,” I said, cocking my head to one side. “Remember how I suggested we start coming in here every night for a drink?”
Her forehead puckered into a confused frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m sure you’ll recall that I started bringing your nightly medication with your tea every night.”
She stiffened. “What the hell have you done, Logan?”
“I gave you the wrong pills. Instead of the ones that help with clotting, I’ve been giving you Warfarin. You know what that is, right?”
“It’s a blood thinner,” she muttered, hand flying to her chin.
I sneered. “Yes, it is, so you haven’t had anything to help with your condition for a while now. Not only that, you’ve been taking something else that will greatly exacerbate the effects of it.”
“You… you…” Mom tried and failed to form a coherent sentence, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
“I shoved you pretty hard earlier,” Willow cut in with a pleasant smile. “You hit the corner of that table pretty hard, too. Usually y
ou’d be fine, apart from the bruises you’d be left with, but considering the recent lack of medication… I’d say you’re screwed. You’ve been bleeding internally for at least ten minutes now. Severely. Give it another few hours and you’ll probably be dead.”
My mother covered her mouth with one hand, chest rising and falling as she drew in several deep breaths through her nose. Then she got up, headed over to a small mirror at the back of the room, ripped off her coat and lifted her sweater. “Oh, shit,” she murmured as she stared at her lower back. A mottled red and purple bruise had appeared already. It looked bad, but it would be ten times worse on the inside.
I reached into my pocket and held up a white capsule. “I have something here that will help,” I said. “It’ll keep you alive long enough for you to get to a hospital and get proper treatment. But you aren’t getting it unless you give us what we want.”
Mom returned to her seat, hands trembling. “What do you want?” she asked softly.
“We want a list of your associates. Anyone who’s been helping with your family’s plan to destroy democracy, and anyone who’s aware of what goes on up at Lilith Hall,” I said. “Don’t bother trying to implicate Dad just to take him down with you. We already know you’ve kept him in the dark all these years.”
“What will you do with the list if I give it to you?”
“We’ll take out your associates like they deserve,” I said. “Your reign as the leader of the Order will be over then, obviously, but at least you’ll be alive. So what do you say?”
She went silent for several minutes, eyes focused on the roaring hearth again. Finally, her shoulders slumped. “Get me a pen and paper,” she muttered.
She spent the next twenty minutes hunched over the coffee table, scribbling away. When she was done, she held up her paper, eyes locked on me in a baleful stare. “Here.”
Willow jostled my side with her elbow. “What if she’s given us the wrong names?” she asked in a low voice.
I scanned the list. “She hasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because most of these names match with the ones Rowan came up with when he started surveilling her and the people she contacts the most frequently. I just wanted to confirm it before we turn them in. Don’t want to accidentally fuck up an innocent person’s life.”
“See? I gave you the right ones. Now give me that pill,” Mom interjected, unsteadily rising to her feet. Her face was bone white now.
“What, this pill?” I said, holding up the capsule I showed her earlier.
She nodded and snatched it from me.
“Careful,” I said with a smirk. “It’s actually just Warfarin. Same as the so-called Tylenol I gave you earlier.”
She flinched as if I’d slapped her. “But you said—”
“I know what I said. It sucks being lied to by your own family, doesn’t it?”
“Logan, please,” she said, eyes wide and beseeching. “Take me to a hospital.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Because I’m your mother, and you love me,” she said, grasping at my shirt sleeve. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I just wanted to protect you.”
“Sure.”
“Please, darling. Pick me. Not her,” she said, jabbing a thumb in Willow’s direction. “You know who I am now. You know the kind of power I have. The kind of power I can give you if you just choose to help me.”
“You’re asking me to pick you over Willow for that?” I said, lifting my brows.
“It’s more power than you could possibly imagine. If my family’s plan comes to fruition in the future, you’ll be the president. But you won’t be a puppet like the others before you. You’ll have real power, and by then there’ll only be one party. No one would ever dare to challenge you.”
“Right.”
“You can still have all of that,” she said, softly stroking my arm. “Everything you’ve done today will be forgiven. You just have to help me right now. Choose me. Then you can have it all.”
My lips turned up in a half-smile. “You know, once upon a time, that may have been tempting. But not anymore. I love Willow, and I’m never letting her go. Not for anyone or anything,” I said. I leaned my head closer to hers. “By the way, I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I know everything. I know exactly what you did to Chloe, and I love her too, so if you honestly think you stand a chance with me right now, you’re even more delusional than I originally thought.”
Her eyes were feverish and over-bright now. “Please, Logan. You can’t let me die. I’m your mother!”
“You’re Chloe’s mother too, and you tried to kill her when she got in your way. I know you’d do the same to me.”
“I wouldn’t. I swear.”
I scoffed. “You’re so full of shit. You literally threatened me half an hour ago, when you said we wouldn’t get away with this.”
“I… I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, gripping my arm tightly. “Please, darling. Help me!”
I straightened my shoulders and looked at her with a stony gaze as I delivered my final answer. “No. No fucking way.”
19
Willow
One week later
For the second time in my life, I found myself in the Order’s main ceremonial chamber, deep in the dark wonderland beneath the city. Despite all of the horrors inflicted upon the world by Q and her minions in the upper echelons of the society, I was still completely enthralled by the place.
The tiny golden lights on the soaring black domed ceiling glittered like real stars as torches burned brightly in granite vessels around the room, lighting the exquisite Grecian bas-relief scenes on the thrones which sat on the circular central dais. Every inch of the space felt as if it were imbued with magic and mystery. Even the towering walls around the room seemed to hold thrilling secrets; so many stories that would never be told.
Most of the Order members sat on the tiered seats around the room, whispering and muttering to one another as they waited for the meeting to start.
I stood with Logan and his father on the dais in the center, heart pounding with anxious energy as I looked around the room, counting the rows of cloaked men and women.
Logan squeezed my hand and murmured in my ear. “I think they’re all here.”
“Yeah, apart from the obvious ones,” I whispered back.
He smiled faintly. “Well, we already know where they are.”
Chuck cleared his throat and brought a golden hammer down on a gong. The massive room instantly fell silent.
“Welcome, everyone, and thank you for attending this meeting on such short notice,” Chuck began. “You might’ve noticed that some members are missing. There is a reason for that which will become clear very soon.”
The Order members looked around the dim room, some frowning, some murmuring. Most of them looked confused.
“I’ve brought you all together to discuss the current state of the Order and the way forward,” Chuck went on, voice booming throughout the room.
A bald man in the front row lifted an arm and spoke up. “What do you mean?”
Chuck smiled thinly. “Patience, Mr. Nicholson,” he said. He turned to the side and gestured toward Logan and me. “My son Logan and his partner Willow, whom you all know as fellow members, have uncovered a terrible truth about our organization. A truth all of you must hear today.”
“What is it?” the bald man asked.
“Q, our supreme leader—along with past leaders—has deceived us about the true nature of the Order. The vast majority of us, including me and the other fourteen high council members, have always been told that our mission is to improve our country, not only for ourselves but for everyone else in it. We have carried out the tasks assigned to us without question, always believing we were contributing to the greater good no matter what was asked of us.” Chuck paused to clear his throat again before continuing with a frown knitting his brows. “I must regretfully inform you that the real
mission of the Order was ultimately the destruction of democracy in our homeland. We have been pawns in a game played by our true masters; the secret leaders and creators of the Order.”
He paused for another moment to let that sink in. Then he launched into a lengthy explanation of the Hale family’s hold over the Order and their overall goal of staging a coup in America, along with the dreadful way they’d funded all of their ventures.
“The gifts bestowed upon us in return for our connections and help, and the lavish parties thrown for us every month… all of it was paid for off the backs of slaves raised at Lilith Hall,” he said at one point, sweeping his gaze over the tiered rows.
The Order members gasped and muttered amongst themselves as he went on and on, outlining the dark horrors conceived in the real upper echelons of the society.
“How did you find out about all of this?” a dark-haired woman called out.
“Logan and Willow managed to uncover Q’s identity, along with the existence of a secret shadow council she formed to assist her,” Chuck replied. “This council was privy to all of the schemes and secret operations that the rest of us were blissfully unaware of. It was made up of supposedly lower-ranking Order members—those are the ones you may have noticed are missing today—and others who weren’t even officially in the Order. Secret members. Like Jamie Torrance, for instance—the president’s Chief of Staff. He was a member for sixteen years without anyone else knowing, aside from Q and the other shadow council members she hired.”
“Wait a minute… did you say she?” an incredulous voice shouted down from one of the back rows.
“Yes,” Chuck replied. “Q was a woman. And not just any woman. She was my wife. Elizabeth Hale Thorne.”
A collective gasp reverberated around the room at this revelation.
A scornful voice filtered down from somewhere in the middle of the room a few seconds later. “Are we supposed to believe you didn’t know anything about this?” the person said. “Most of us thought you were Q. You always seemed to be in charge.”
