Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“That’s fine!” She widens her eyes and pops a fry in her mouth. “I’ll come back in a year and marry you.”
I throw a fry at her and her laughter dies.
“Fine! I’ll stop playing. In all seriousness? Mafia? No. As if I’d go there without proof.”
She’s partly right. They both spend too much time playing to crowds to belong to any outfit. We’re also close enough to Chicago that they’d warn us if we started drifting into that world. Leon and their underboss trade shit over cognac. We’ve crossed borders for hits and shared intel on rival territories when it fattened everyone’s pockets. If Asher or Atlas had stepped into that blood pool, we’d have heard about it.
“Then what?” I ask, because no way are these two putting us in a spin. “Spill it, Luce.”
She chews slowly, holding my stare.
“Think patterns, Vanya. The winter before last, Asher ghosts, and then is hot and cold on you for months. Atlas sticks closer to the spotlight, but even he ducks questions about his twin’s downtime. And then fast-forward to last winter, to you—you know…”
My legs itch to move, and I shove off the bed and head for the window, pacing back and forth as if it doesn’t add water to an already steamed engine inside my head.
“Everything feels off,” I finally say.
My fingers trace the choker around my neck. “I can admit that.”
She slides off the mattress, crossing the room in two strides until her hands find my shoulders.
“Off is right.” She squeezes once. “But you’re not going in blind. I’ve got Punk digging deeper, off-grid stuff that doesn’t show up in searches. Even our own.”
I nod. This should be a relief because I trust them, but the knot in my gut pulls even tighter.
Am I contaminated? So much so that I can’t see through whatever smoke he’s blowing onto my mirrors?
Maybe I’ve unknowingly trained myself to believe monsters always wear the face of evil, when it’s love that makes for a perfect mask.
She forces my chin up. “Listen to me. If he is hiding something, you know we will find it.”
Luce is soft, but she’s soft like the wires that connect a bomb. She goes into everything prepared for carnage, sure, but she’s also the brain that holds us together.
This time, I’m not so convinced by her words.
I collapse onto the mattress. “I don’t know what he wants from me, other than my mind to torture. I’d prefer a bullet to the heart, if I got the choice.”
Luce flicks through images on her phone without looking up. “Sounds terrible. Is he going to fuck you in the meantime?”
I glare at her. “I’m serious, Luce! I’m too old for this.”
“You’re thirty-one, Ivy.” She drops the phone onto her thigh. “You’re nowhere near old.”
I drag my hand over my cheek. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
Her smirk dies. “I’m sorry. I know...” She gathers up the trash and drops it in the bag.
“Look. He’s not going to hurt you. At least not yet. It would defeat the purpose of all—“ She lifts both hands, gesturing blindly around the room. “—this. I say we scope him out. Play the game. See what his deal is and why he’s doing what he’s doing, and then when we find our opportunity, you leave for good.”
She grabs me by the face, forcing my attention. “I mean it, Ivy. You’re going to be free of this life. Even if it’s the last thing I help you do. This is a bump in the road, not the final destination.”
I want to believe her. God, if there ever was a time that I want to believe her…
“Anyway!” She claps her hands. “Atlas mentioned some small get-together tonight and showing face. Jord and Punk are somewhere, most likely getting the grand tour of this monster house.”
I chuckle. “It is annoyingly over the top.”
Everything stops.
“Wait, what do you mean get-together? I didn’t know about a get-together?”
CHAPTER
FIVE
ASHER
Twenty minutes of watching this fucking screen. Twenty minutes of reminding myself why I need a brother. Why I shouldn’t bury him in the backyard.
Jesus. I gotta pull my shit in.
Maybe it’s been thirty minutes. Or maybe I stopped counting when Atlas made her laugh and flipped my murder switch.
I focus back on her, where she’s on the bed, gesturing in that animated way she does when she’s forgotten to perform.
Leaning back in my chair, I roll a pen between my fingers. Fucking Atlas. Always so charming and smooth. She wouldn’t usually fall for it, but I can’t tell anymore. This Ivy looks soft and unguarded as she laughs at whatever dumb shit he just said. This was the version of her I got when no one was looking.
Or maybe, this was just simply what she wanted me to see.
My jaw locks.
Why the fuck am I sitting in my office with a hard dick, watching my brother try to flirt his way into my...