by B. B. Reid
“Even if it means he’ll slit your friend’s throat the moment you do?” She gasped, took another step back, and pulled Caylen closer to her chest.
Her frightened eyes turned to me. “You wouldn’t really do that, would you?” Fuck… How old was this girl? Innocence was written all over her.
I took a step toward her. “Do you really want to find out?” Her blonde locks tossed about as she vigorously shook her head. “Then we have an arrangement?”
“Yes,” she replied instantly.
My gaze narrowed as I inspected her. “How old are you?”
She glanced in Z’s direction before moving to Lucas. Her gaze rested on him for a fraction longer before flitting back to me.
“I’m twenty-one.”
I gazed into her big brown innocent eyes and knew she was lying.
I decided to see how it would all play out and had Lucas and Z set her up in the nursery. I escaped to my father’s office to think. I had only a few days left to get Mian to talk, but a part of me was beginning to believe her. I practically raised her myself and knew her like the back of my hand. She would put her son before money.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Lucas cracked.
“We need to find a way to get her to talk. I’m starting to think…” I stopped because once I said the words, I couldn’t take them back.
“What?” Z questioned. I could detect a little hostility in his tone. “That she didn’t do it? Of course, she did.”
“You don’t know her.”
“But I know how far a woman with a kid to feed is willing to go.”
“She’s not your mother.” The words were out before I could swallow them back. Z didn’t ever talk about his mother, but the little we did get out of him was so ugly that no one blamed him. He was taken in by the state at the age of thirteen and placed in foster care when it was discovered that he had become the caretaker of his drug-addicted mother after her pimp—his father—abandoned them both for a less broken model. She fucked, sucked, and stole to keep him fed and alive until the drugs completely took over and she faded into nothing.
“I’m well aware my mother is dead,” he snarled.
Behind Z’s easy smile was a temper that not even I dared to test. His father was a tool, but his mother screwed him over real good after he vanished.
“Fuck.” I blew out a breath and ran my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry, man. I’m just—”
“Forget about it,” he said and waved me off.
“Let me suggest something,” Lucas cut in.
“What’s that?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“As pleasant as we find Mian’s company, maybe she needs someone closer to convince her. As you’ve said, you know her. We don’t. You know how far and hard to push and what makes her tick. Mian’s weakness is her son, sure, but she knows you aren’t willing to go that far. She’s already called your bluff by not talking.”
“So we’re at a stalemate.”
“Not even close. Her kid isn’t her only soft spot. The girl loves her father, does she not?”
I was already turning him down. “I’m not ready to kill Theo.”
“We don’t need to kill him. We just need to push her into a corner with no way out.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
No way out.
MIAN
I spent two days watching the door. Even in my sleep, I dreamed of him walking through that door. It wasn’t desire that made me anxious for his presence. It was the growing sense of doom that kept me awake at night. When the door finally opened, and he sauntered through, I knew instantly the bad feeling deep in my stomach wasn’t unfounded.
He shut the door and helped himself to a seat on the bare mattress. He was dressed in a burgundy waistcoat and tailored black slacks. “How are you, Mian?”
“Sick to my stomach and having this feeling that you have something to do with that.”
“Ah.”
“So?”
“So…”
“Why are you here?”
He rubbed the trimmed scruff adorning his lower jaw and looked at me with something akin to compassion in his eyes. “I wanted to show you one last mercy. Tell me where the book is.”
“I don’t—” I started to deny when he held up his hand, effectively silencing me.
“Before you answer, know, this time, your lies will cost you more than you’re willing to pay.”
“What does that mean?”
“Pray you won’t have to find out. Now, tell me where the book is.”
“I told you before. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Instead of threatening or crowding me to intimidate me into giving up answers I didn’t have, he hung his head, exhaled, and then spoke into his phone. “Do it.”
Tears poured from my eyes and my heart stopped and plummeted from my chest to my feet. What did I do? I heard faint words that sounded something like, “My baby,” and realized it was me who spoke the words brokenly.
“No, not your son.” He held out his hand to me. “Come and see.”
I went. I didn’t take his hand, and he didn’t seem to care. He simply curled it around my waist and tugged me down onto his lap. He held the phone away from me and as soon as I was settled, he locked his arm around me so I couldn’t move and held up his phone. There was a live video feed and the story it told had me drawing back in horror. There was no sound, and I was grateful for small favors as I watched a man be savagely kicked and punched into an unrecognizable pulp.
“What is this?” I looked away, but he grabbed my chin and forced my gaze back.
“This is the price you pay.” I squinted when the camera stopped jostling enough to bring it to focus, and I studied the broken man leaning against the dull gray wall. Blood covered almost every inch of his face, and as I studied him, closer recognition dawned.
“Daddy?” My heart raced, and the funny feeling in my stomach must have been fear. They continued to beat him even when he stopped fighting back. “Stop them!”
“You haven’t paid in full.”
“Angel, please! They’ll kill him.”
“If that’s what it takes,” he coldly answered.
I struggled to free myself and then to look away, but he held my face steady. “I don’t have your book! Just please stop! Please!”
“Do you know what happens after your father dies? You’ll be next. My grandfather wants your head, and he’ll take it, book or no book. Do you want to leave your son an orphan?”
“Don’t touch my son.” My voice was a lot calmer than the rage that stormed free inside of me.
“I won’t kill him. I’ll leave him to a far worse fate. My family will expect nothing less.”
“Then I’ll destroy your entire line.”
“Time’s ticking, Sprite. You’ll be dead in a week.”
I turned my body enough to bring him into view. I wanted him to see just how much I meant my next words.
“And I’ll haunt you from the moment I take my last breath to the moment you take yours.”
I glimpsed in his eyes and saw something more telling than fear.
Emptiness.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Plan B.
ANGEL
Mian was out of time.
Tonight was the night of the ball, and my grandfather was expecting her head. She might have been innocent, but without the book, there was nothing I could do to save her. Her death wasn’t only about the book. It also meant vengeance for Grandfather for his son’s death. I wanted the same, but the eagerness to take her life had faded.
I stared at my mother’s gown. She had an impressive collection, but this one was by far the plainest. The gown was simple, and the color made it a perfect choice for Mian to die in. My mother wouldn’t appreciate on
e of her expensive pieces being ruined, but she chose to leave it behind along with my father’s memory.
I spent the day holed up in my father’s office trying to come to terms with what would happen tonight. Mian’s insistence that she didn’t steal the book didn’t add up. I threatened her life, her son’s, and her father’s, but she didn’t budge. It was not like her to put self-gain before someone she cared deeply for… even if they were undeserving. My decision to leave her father alive didn’t come easily when I could have so easily had him killed, but it wasn’t the right time. I wanted to look into his eyes when he died so it would be the memory of me that tortured him in hell.
When I couldn’t settle the sense that I was making a mistake, I left my office in search of Z. Lucas had already left to escort my mom from the airport. Even though Victor flew in with her, my mother would expect my interference. In Florida, she was Victor’s wife, but here in Chicago, she was still my father’s widow.
I found Z in the den sitting in complete darkness. The only light came from the laptop he worked on. He looked up when I entered, closed his computer, and set it away with ease. I picked up on his subtle attempt to hide what he was working on and made a mental note to ask him about it later.
“I need a favor from you, brother. Off the record.”
“What’s up?”
I took a seat and stared off into the distance before coming to a decision. “I need your skills to find another answer. I need to know that we’ve ruled out every possibility.”
He was silent for several long moments, and I wondered if he was piecing together what we were asking. When he finally spoke, it was low and hesitant. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I waited for him to explain because I really didn’t understand. “You’re asking me to try to save Mian’s life. Is that really what you want?”
His question all but stopped my beating heart.
Was he right?
Was this one last desperate attempt to spare the life of the girl I could never have? Her death was more than just retribution for a stolen legacy and loss of power. It was retaliation against the man who took my father’s life. It was a score to settle, not just for me, but for Z and Lucas, as well. Art became a father to them the day he took them off the streets.
But looking in Z’s eyes, I didn’t see anger or accusation. I saw understanding I didn’t deserve. I wasn’t Mian’s knight in shining armor. I was her executioner.
Z cleared his throat and turned his laptop toward me. He gestured to the screen that was littered with windows I didn’t understand.
“I was already looking,” he said simply.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
When the hour strikes…
MIAN
I was primped and painted, and this time, when I wore the dress, it hugged my body perfectly. The beading adorning the gown was exquisite. I ran my fingers over the intricate design while Madame Torre fussed and barked orders at the Ricardos. I dreaded what the evening could bring, but was grateful to finally have my body covered, with the exception of my shoulders. The gown was truly beautiful. Black wouldn’t have been my first choice of color, but oddly it didn’t detract.
“Do you like it?” I didn’t turn around to greet the man behind the sinfully deep voice. I wasn’t ready to face him after what he did. “It was my mother’s.”
“It’s beautiful,” I admitted reluctantly.
“I want to see all of you,” he said after Madame Torre and the Ricardos had left, and I kept my back to him. If he were anyone else, I would have blushed at the request, but he wasn’t anyone else, and I knew better. He didn’t seduce. He commanded. I turned carefully in the high black and silver stems and rested my hands on my waist for balance when I caught sight of him looking debonair in a black tux. His hair was perfectly gelled and combed into a fashionable design and the hair on his jaw and chin were freshly trimmed to accentuate his strong jaw.
He took his time inspecting me, too. My hair was pulled back so the curls Mohawk Ricardo had skillfully created fell down my back. My makeup was applied sparingly. Goatee Ricardo had focused on accentuating my eyes, which he complimented repeatedly. Even covered in layers of silk, he still managed to make me feel naked. It was as if the heat in his eyes seared away the layers.
“So? Do I satisfy your taste for arm candy?”
He smiled a feral smile. “What makes you think you’ll be my date?”
No sane part of me wanted to be his date, but it didn’t make the rejection hurt any less. “Then what am I?”
“You’re the final act.” He closed the distance between us and then flipped open a royal blue box. The most beautiful diamond choker rested on a velvet bed before he plucked it from the case and tossed it away. I didn’t move as he stepped around me and wrapped it around my neck. It was so heavy and cold against my skin. When I heard the clasp click, I fingered the necklace and wondered if it was real. It seemed too extravagant, even for the Knights.
I was surprised when something settled over my face. He quickly secured it and then stepped away while I fingered what must have been a mask. It was hard but bearable since it didn’t weigh much. I wanted a mirror so I could see and thought about stepping inside the bathroom for a peek, but the jerk held out his arm, offering me the crook of his elbow, and waited for me to accept with a quirk of his eyebrow. I cupped the muscle underneath his finery and stared ahead in horror when my pussy reacted to the feel of his muscles bunched beneath the tux. It had to be a natural response—like drowning when water fills your lungs. I did not desire this man.
Outside, there was a limo waiting. Lucas flashed me a sexy smile while I admired him in the black tux. He held a thick black box in his hand, and I was curious about what was inside.
“You look good enough to eat, pretty girl.” He bit his bottom lip and eyed me. I had the feeling he was imagining doing just that. Lucas opened the back door, and I ducked inside. He then followed and took a seat on the bench across from me. Angel sat next to me, forcing me to curl up against the opposite door. I heard the locks engage as if I were really going to jump from a moving vehicle.
“So, Mian, why aren’t you in college?” Lucas questioned after we’d been riding for some time. He reached for the chilled champagne and poured a glass.
“I had a kid,” I answered coolly.
He shrugged. “Single mothers can still attend school. There are programs, aren’t there?”
“It’s so easy to assume anyone can still conquer the world with a baby on their hip. The world is full of failures and rejects. Programs can’t save us all. If they could, the world would be a much more colorful place.”
“Didn’t you have relatives to help you?”
I noticed Angel’s head cock slightly. He must have been interested in my answer. If he knew about my aunt and uncle, he wouldn’t hesitate to use them against me. I pressed a hand to my stomach. When they turned their backs on me, there was no love lost, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see them dead.
“My grandparents are dead.”
“Theo had to leave you with someone since you weren’t in the system.”
Damn. “I never had family other than my father’s brother and his wife. My mother was an only child.”
“So he left you with them?”
I nodded not really wanting to talk about them but found the words spilling out anyway. “He had to pay them to accept me but, yeah… they were my guardians before Caylen was born.”
“Before?”
I took a deep breath slowly released. I could feel Angel watching my every move. “They kicked me out after they found out I was pregnant.” Angel made a sound I couldn’t describe. I found his eyes black and spitting fire. “You thought I ran away, didn’t you?” He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Before he turned his head to stare out the window, I saw guilt in his eyes.
Why would Angel feel guilty? He
stopped being responsible for me when his father convinced mine to send me home. I thought the day Daddy left me with him was the worst thing he could ever do to me, but it couldn’t compare to the day he took him away from me. How hormones and a little kindness changes things…
We spent the rest of the ride in silence. I looked out the window in amazement when the house came into view. The lush green land stretched far and wide around the castle. It made Arturo Knight’s home seem like a trailer home.
“ What is this place,” I heard myself asking.
“It’s home,” Angel answered.
He was staring when I looked away to face him. “Home?”
“The Knight Estate. It was built over a century ago by the second Knight.”
“Aren’t there more of you in your family?”
He shook his head. “ The Knight not a Knight.”
“I’m not following.”
“The Knight is the head of the family. The head of the family will only ever be The Bandit.” It sounded like a riddle, which I strangely got. The real legacy must be his place as The Bandit. The book he thinks I stole was just a shiny crown.
“So why don’t you live here?” He didn’t claim his father’s home, and I knew now it was because it never truly felt like home to him.
“Because the house can only be inherited after the death of The Knight.”
“And since your father died before your grandfather could—” When our gazes met, words were lost.
“Something else your father took from mine... and me .”
His hate was my truth. I could feel it as if it coursed through my veins. I turned away to admire the house as much as I could from the limited vantage point of the car. When the car slowly stopped, Angel took the box from Lucas. I watched, feeling my heart race, as he opened the box. He lifted a black leather mask from the box and secured it onto his face. When he turned to me, the top half of his face was covered by large wings that extended away from his face. The feathers were captured in amazing detail.
