Page 100 of Princess of Vengeance

Elliot stands abruptly, his hands clenched into fists. For a second, I think he might hit me—and I’m ready for it, already calculating my counter-move.

Instead, he laughs. A harsh, ugly laugh that sets my teeth on edge.

“You’ve got balls, lady. I’ll give you that,” he says. “But what’s your plan if we do take him out? What happens to the Syndicate?”

“We all run it together or we disband it,” I say firmly. “We go back to being free agents. No more being bound to decisions we didn’t make. No more votums. No more blood debts.”

“And why would I want to disband it? The Syndicate has been good for business.”

“Has it?” I ask. “Or has it just been good for Malcolm? When was the last time you made a move without his approval? When was the last time you truly operated freely?”

“Every territory expansion, every major decision—they’ve all needed his sign-off,” Imogen adds. “That’s not a partnership. That’s servitude.”

“Being king of your own domain is better than being a soldier in someone else’s army,” I say, holding his gaze. “Do you want to be a king or a fucking foot soldier, Elliot?”

He stares at me for a long moment, then nods slowly. “I’m in. But if this goes sideways…”

“It won’t,” I say with more confidence than I should probably be feeling.

“But if it does?”

“Then we’ll all have bigger problems than who betrayed who,” Imogen cuts in smoothly. “It won’t happen though. Malcolm has been getting careless. He’s too comfortable. He thinks he owns us.”

“It’s time to show him he doesn’t,” I add, exhaling for the first time in what feels like forever.

Imogen smiles, just a quick quirk of her lips, but it’s enough to let me know that we’ve done a damn good job today.

“I’ll set up a meeting with Rafael,” she says, standing up. “He’s been unhappy with Malcolm for a while. I think he’ll be receptive.”

“And once he’s on board?” Elliot asks.

“Then I’ll talk to Owen,” Imogen says. “He’ll be the easiest.”

Elliot’s chuckle rattles deep in his throat. “Owen will fall in line if you ask him, Imogen. He’s been trying to get in your pants for fucking ever.”

Imogen rolls her eyes. “I’m aware.”

“And you’re not above using that,” I say, not a question.

“In this game?” She shrugs. “We all use what weapons we have. Owen is a simple man with simple desires. If flirting gets him to help take down Malcolm, I can flirt.”

“Just don’t promise anything you’re not willing to deliver,” Elliot warns. “Owen can get… fixated.”

“I can handle Owen,” she says dismissively. “Let’s focus on the real threat. Malcolm needs to be dealt with before he figures out what we’re planning.”

“How soon can you talk to Rafael?” I ask.

“Tomorrow,” Imogen says. “I’ll set it up as soon as we leave here.”

“Then we’ll meet back here once I get the word from you,” I decide. “We need to start planning the details.”

Elliot nods, standing up. “We’ll meet here. And Quinn? If you’re playing us, I’ll make what Malcolm would do to you look like a fucking day at the beach.”

“I’m not playing anyone,” I say. “I want out of this marriage and away from him more than you can possibly imagine.”

As I watch them go, a rush of adrenaline hits me. We’re almost there. Two more to convince, and we’ll have the numbers to move against Malcolm.

Soon, I’ll be free. Soon, I’ll have him bleeding out at my feet.

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