Sinful Empire (The Anti-Heroes Collection Book 3)

by Meghan March

  “Magnolia’s a madam. She rose to power by having the best girls and the ability to procure anyone for any reason.”

  “But why would she bring me into it?” Keira’s tone is beyond distraught as her hand drops, along with her jaw. She sits up, wincing at a bite of pain, her legs over the side of my bed before I can stop her.

  I want to wrap her in my arms and stop her from moving, especially because I hate seeing her in pain, but this is how she processes things. I’ve learned that, and I let her have her space. For a few moments, anyway.

  If only I could spare her this . . . but I can’t. She deserves the truth.

  “She knew that the note was supposed to go to Brett. She . . . .” Keira trails off, and I can guess where she’s going with it.

  “She suggested you write it?”

  Keira nods, as if at a loss for words, her confusion and emotions warring on her face. I want to make one thing absolutely fucking clear before this conversation is over—that I’m thankful as hell I got that note.

  I reach out and take her hand, closing mine around it. “Look at me, Keira.”

  Her gaze drops to mine.

  “Regardless of how or why she did it, getting that note was the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. It put you on my radar. Without it, I would’ve never known you existed.”

  She swallows and nods. “That’s not the part I’m struggling with. It isn’t. I swear. I wouldn’t take back that night for anything.” She squeezes my hand.

  Her words and tight grip fill me with another measure of hope for the future. We’re stronger than this. Stronger than the circumstances that brought us together. Magnolia’s motives don’t matter to me anymore, but I know they matter to Keira, and I understand why she needs answers.

  Unfortunately, I can’t give her answers I don’t have. What I do have is a little more information, which I hope won’t cause her more pain.

  “The note was delivered to me by courier, and I was intrigued. Magnolia said she had someone special that her anonymous gift-giver knew I’d like. She guaranteed me that I would never find another woman who would compare, and she was absolutely right. You are incomparable. Unforgettable.”

  Keira

  Lachlan’s hand squeezes mine tightly. I take the strength he offers, even as I’m faced with the undeniable shock of Magnolia’s deception.

  Before this moment, I didn’t know it was possible to be torn in two completely opposite emotional directions. I’m thankful Magnolia put me in Lachlan’s path, but the stabbing feeling of betrayal is undeniable.

  She painted a picture of a man who was scarier than the devil himself, and yet she pushed me into his path. She couldn’t have known how things would end up. Could she?

  I just . . . I don’t freaking understand.

  “I don’t know if my best friend was playing matchmaker or whoring me out.”

  Lachlan squeezes my hand again and reaches up to cup my chin with the other. “Don’t ever fucking say that about yourself. She played us both, Keira. Like a master. I told you she’s the best at what she does for a reason. She knew me. Knew what I liked, maybe even better than I knew myself. Then she put you in my path—the one woman she knew I’d want more of immediately. You were the ultimate drug. She banked on me becoming addicted after only one hit, and she was right.”

  My mouth drops open again for what seems like the tenth time during the last few minutes, and not just because I felt the exact same way after that night. I wanted more. Needed more. Hell, I married the guy I thought he was the next day.

  “I don’t understand her motives, though. That’s what doesn’t make sense.” And that’s truly the one part that has me completely stumped. Was this another case of Magnolia always knows best? Or was she playing Russian roulette with my life?

  “I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. Magnolia Maison didn’t get to where she is by doing things without a reason. She’s smart. Cagey. I’ve always respected her. But you have to know one more important thing.”

  I brace for another confession that I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle. “What?”

  Lachlan’s dark stare softens further, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Two days after the masquerade, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how fucking incredible you were. How you demanded what you wanted, and yet gave me everything.”

  His words send heat pulsing through me as the memories replay in my head, dulling the betrayal as I focus on what matters more—where I ended up because of it.

  “I went back to Magnolia and told her I wanted you again. Long term. Exclusively.”

  “You did?” Shock rips through me.

  Lachlan nods. “Of course I did. What you demanded and gave was completely unique. She achieved her goal. She knew I’d be hooked.”

  Confusion surges up again. “Do you think she expected me to start working for her?”

  “I don’t know that either, but when I inquired about terms and how to acquire you—”

  When I wrinkle my nose at his term, he frowns.

  “Hellion, that’s who I was and what I did. Women were possessions. To be owned. Used. And put out of my mind as soon as my balls finished pulsing. I can’t change that.”

  “I don’t have to like that part.”

  His gaze bores into mine. “Who I was, until you,” he says, emphasizing each word. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. You infiltrated my life. You changed everything.”

  His confession soothes me, yet it doesn’t change the fact that Magnolia lied to me. But that isn’t Lachlan’s fault, and I won’t put it on him.

  “So, what happened when you asked?”

  “Magnolia said you were a one-shot deal. Out of the business. Needed some cash, and you only agreed to one night.”

  The tightness in my lungs eases a tiny bit. “So she wasn’t planning to try to spread me around.”

  Lachlan shakes his head. “No. I may not understand why she did it, but I believe she was honest when she said it was a one-shot deal.”

  I want to believe that, but I don’t know what to think about my best friend right now. I never would have thought her capable of this, so it’s hard to trust anything else about her in this moment.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I offered her a fortune for another night, and she still said no.”

  Again, the words of a man I used to fear alleviate the pain of betrayal from this foundation-rocking confession.

  Then it occurs to me why Magnolia had no choice but to turn him away.

  “She couldn’t give you another night because I eloped with Brett. I married him the next day based on what happened at the masquerade. Thinking you were him. The one impulsive decision of my life—”

  Lachlan sucks in a breath. “I wish I’d gone to her that morning. You would’ve been mine from that night forward. When she told me you’d married another man and were beyond my reach—not part of our world is how she put it—I was furious.”

  “I never would’ve married him if I’d known—”

  His other arm wraps carefully around my waist, and he draws me closer to him. He guides my face down to his lips. “I wouldn’t have fucking let you. No way in hell.”

  His lips sweep across mine and I lean in, soaking up his warmth and conviction. This man changed the course of my life without even knowing he had. When he releases my chin, I meet his gaze.

  “If you had to let me go because of Brett, then how did this,” I gesture between him and me, “happen?”

  Lachlan’s face contains more pride than apology. “Nothing is beyond my reach, Keira. Nothing.”

  I have to force myself not to smile at his arrogance. In this maelstrom of emotion and confusion, one thing is absolutely clear—Lachlan Mount hasn’t wavered at all about what he wanted. Which was me.

  The pieces start to snap together.

  “So you . . . you made this happen. Everything from then on was you pulling the strings.”

 
“Of course. When the prize is right, no amount of effort is too much.”

  I can’t even hold it against him. How else would he have gotten me to fall in love with him? I can’t envision another path that would have led to where we are. Which makes this all the more confusing.

  I think of how Magnolia told me to stand up for myself and not let him walk all over me. How I had to hold my own. Did she know it would keep his interest locked on me? Everything she ever told me is now called into question. While I’m contemplating this, Lachlan keeps going.

  “I forced her to give me your name. I tracked you down, found out who you married. Started watching you that day. Did my research. Learned Brett’s weaknesses. Learned he conned you. And then I waited . . .”

  He trails off, leaving me desperate to know where he’s going with this.

  “Waited for what?”

  “For you to realize exactly what he was on your own. I forced myself to stand back until you moved to sever ties.”

  “Why would you wait? That doesn’t seem like you at all.” I’m trying to come up with an explanation for it, but I can’t.

  “Maybe not normally, but you were different.” He tilts his head.

  Still confused, I ask, “Because you needed me at my weakest to swoop in?”

  He shakes his head. “No. I wanted you at your strongest.”

  “But I was falling apart—”

  “No, you weren’t, Keira. You were coming into your own. Don’t tell me it didn’t take a hell of a lot of courage to make the decision to end it.”

  I blink twice. He’s right. Choosing to end my marriage wasn’t something I did lightly. I struggled and agonized over the decision. Even with as short as my marriage was, it still hurt like hell to admit how wrong I’d been.

  “So you watched and waited. Which explains how you knew the perfect timing. When I went to a lawyer. Got the apartment. Set things in motion.” I press two fingers to my temple as more pieces slide into place. If I didn’t already have a headache, this realization would have given me one. “And that piece of shit agreed to take the money and walk, knowing that you’d come after me for it.”

  Lachlan doesn’t try to deny it. “I did what I had to do to get what I wanted.”

  “So this whole thing, from the very beginning, had nothing to do with the money . . .” My words come out awed at this ground-shifting realization.

  He lifts a hand to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear.

  “No, Keira. This has only ever been about you.”

  Keira

  “This has only ever been about you.”

  The way he says it sends tremors rippling through my body, but not in fear. Never again in fear. They’re from something else entirely—the certainty that no one has ever wanted me like this man wants me. He admitted it himself. I was his addiction. He could have swooped in with his hood and his henchmen and taken me to his compound the day he found out I married Brett, but he didn’t.

  Lachlan Mount isn’t just ruthless—he’s a study in perseverance. He said Magnolia was canny, but he’s a master strategist. I can’t fault the outcome, but I have to recognize the fact that I was just a moving piece in a bigger game than I realized.

  “You were playing chess with my life, and I didn’t even know I was on the board.” There’s no anger behind my statement. I’m still just trying to understand this enigma of a man.

  “Life is a chess game, Keira. Every single fucking day, you make moves that determine your future.”

  “And Magnolia turned me into a pawn.”

  “No.” Lachlan shakes his head slowly, once again caressing my cheek. “That’s where you’re wrong, hellion. You’ve never been a pawn. You’ve been the queen from day one. The most powerful piece on the whole fucking board.”

  “What?” Suddenly I wish I paid more attention to the game of chess when my dad tried to teach me as a kid.

  “A king has the most value, but without a queen, he’s a hell of a lot less powerful. Together, they have the best chance of victory.” He pauses, stroking my cheek again like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever touched. “I’ve spent my life avoiding any attachments because I thought they would create a weakness my enemies could exploit. I didn’t realize how wrong I was until you. You give me strength, and I swear to God, I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

  The vehemence in his tone should scare me, but I find it comforting. And then he says something that hits me even deeper.

  “And while I’d never let anyone take you from me, right now I’m offering you a chance to ask all your questions. Pass your judgment. Make your own decision. I need to know if you can handle life by my side, Keira, because if you can’t, I have to find some way to let you go.”

  The very suggestion tears at my heart in a way I didn’t know was possible, bringing a sting behind my eyes at the thought.

  “If you have another question, ask it now.”

  My brain is swirling a million miles an hour, and I can’t think of anything else that would change my mind. Not now.

  Except . . .

  I press a hand to my lips as I recall that first brutal story Magnolia told me about him. How he forced a woman to dance on broken glass until she slit her own wrists. I can’t reconcile that rumor with the man before me. What’s more, I don’t want to even give voice to the possibility it could be true.

  Lachlan must see the confusion on my face as he releases his hold on me. “Ask your question, Keira.” It’s a command.

  I heave out a breath, gathering my courage. I don’t know what I’ll do if I’m wrong and it’s true. “Magnolia told me a story about you . . .”

  His expression goes blank, and a hardness infiltrates his features. It’s that granite mask I can’t stand to see on his face. It’s like he’s expecting the worst, and maybe he is.

  “There are a lot of stories about me. You’ll have to be more specific. Some are fact, and some are rumor and myth.”

  I just have to blurt it out. That’s the only way. So I go for it. “The story about the woman being forced to dance on broken glass. Is it true?”

  His expression doesn’t change as he shifts away from me, and now the small distance between us feels like the Grand Canyon.

  “It’s true.”

  Mount

  I shut my emotions down, one second at a time, preparing for the inevitable. The moment when Keira says she can’t be with a monster like me. I am the devil himself, and there’s no way she could want to be with someone capable of the things I’ve done.

  It will shred everything left of my humanity to let her go, but I won’t keep her trapped against her will. Not now. We’re beyond that. If she says she wants to leave, I won’t stop her.

  All remaining color drains from her face, and the glimmer of distress that flashes in her gaze guts me.

  I don’t want her fear, but how could a man like me deserve anything else?

  Heavy moments of silence hang between us until Keira, the queen I never knew I needed until we were both tricked into something we didn’t see coming, finds her voice.

  “Tell me why.”

  It’s not a question. It’s a demand, and one I didn’t expect her to make. I didn’t expect her to care about the reason behind it.

  “Does it matter?”

  Her nod is infinitesimal, but I catch it.

  “It matters more than anything I’ve ever asked you. Please tell me why you would do something like that. I have to believe there was a reason.” The threat of tears underlies her tone, and I’d rather take another bullet than hear her sound like that again.

  I don’t justify my actions to anyone. Ever. But I know this is one exception I have to make, or I’ll lose her forever.

  I look away, not wanting to see her face as I tell the story.

  “About ten years ago, there was a boy who tap-danced on street corners of the Quarter, near Jackson Square. I’d see him almost every time I left here. The same boy, day after day after day. People
think that when you’re the boss, you don’t notice details, but that’s completely wrong. When you hold power like I do, you know details are the difference between life and death. This wasn’t one of those details. It should’ve meant nothing to me that I saw the same kid every day, but something about it twisted up my gut.”

  I pause, remembering the expression on the kid’s face, and I force myself to continue. “Every time I saw him, he was more erratic. He should’ve been in school, or so I assumed. He couldn’t have been older than six or seven. I wasn’t sure. But he was more skin and bones than anything else.”

  Keira sucks in a horrified breath at the picture I’ve painted, but I don’t look at her. I’m too lost in the memory.

  “One day, I finally stopped and sat on a bench for six hours, watching him with his bucket in front of him where tourists would toss their dollars. Every couple hours, a man or a woman would crawl out of the gutters and empty it, and the kid would keep dancing. I’ve been around long enough to recognize addicts of every kind. Meth addicts aren’t hard to spot.”

  “Oh my God,” Keira whispers, because she’s catching on to where this story is headed.

  I keep my eyes fixed over her shoulder on the far wall of the room, because the rage that builds inside me when I remember isn’t something I want her to see.

  “Please tell me they didn’t . . .” She trails off, and I wish I could tell her that this story isn’t going where she thinks.

  “The high from glass, a more potent form of meth, can last for eight to twenty-four hours. When he’d start to slow down, they’d grab the bucket and carry him off for a little while. I followed them that day and watched as the woman, his fucking mother, would feed it to him.”

  A sob tears from Keira’s throat. “No. How could she?”

  “There are plenty of parents who do horrible things to their children, and there’s no way to save them all.”

  “I can’t even fathom—”

  “You shouldn’t have to. That kind of shit shouldn’t fucking happen, but it does.”