Page 153 of Princess of Vengeance

“Yeah, but look at the subtext,” Atlas argues, flipping back through previous pages we’ve completed. “It’s all been building to this moment. The way he saved her by taking a bullet for her? The look they shared in the rain in that alley? Come on, vicious. He fucking loves her.”

“And you think she just forgives him? After everything?” I’m smiling now, because we’ve had this argument a dozen times over the last few months, ever since we decided to continue our own version of the graphic novel series.

Atlas smirks. “I think they’re both stubborn assholes who’d rather fight than admit they belong together. Sound familiar?”

I laugh, nudging him with my shoulder. “Maybe a little. And I promise, they’ll get their happy ending. But make him work for it a little more.”

“Deal.” Atlas nods, and then his hand is at the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, his tongue sliding against mine with a familiar hunger.

“Don’t get her all worked up yet,” Nico’s voice interrupts. “We’ve got plans for later.”

I break away from Atlas to see Nico and Killian entering the shop, both of them sporting identical grins that immediately make me suspicious.

“What did you two do?” I ask, sliding off the stool and crossing my arms.

Nico’s mismatched eyes gleam with mischief as he pulls me into his arms. “Nothing bad,” he promises, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “In fact, I think you’ll like this surprise.”

“We just closed a major deal in Lansing,” Killian says, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine even after all these months. “The black market channels we’ve opened up there will double our distribution capacity.”

“Seriously?” I look between them, excitement building. Those connections in the state capitol have been on our wish list for months. “How did you make it happen?”

“Let’s just say our recent successes have been noticed,” Nico says. “The Collective is gaining a reputation, and people want in.”

“We should celebrate,” I say, already mentally calculating how these new channels will affect our bottom line.

“Exactly what we were thinking,” Atlas agrees, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “We’ve got something planned.”

“Should I be worried?” I ask, although the excitement in their eyes makes me eager, not anxious.

Killian’s mouth quirks up at one corner. “Worried? No. Ready? That’s another question entirely.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re on our bikes, racing along the highway with the setting sun painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold. The wind whips through my hair as I follow the three of them, curious about our destination but content to let them lead.

When we take the exit for the county fairgrounds, I’m genuinely confused. The place is usually packed this time of year, but as we pull into the parking lot, I notice something strange—it’s practically empty.

“What the fuck?” I ask as we dismount. “Is it closed or something?”

Nico just grins, taking my hand and leading me toward the entrance. “Not closed. Reserved.”

“Reserved?” I repeat. “You reserved a fairground?”

“Just for tonight,” Atlas clarifies, his hand sliding to the small of my back. “Perks of having friends in high places.”

I’m still trying to wrap my head around it as we walk through the main gate, passing a security guard who nods at Killian like they’ve already met. The fairground is eerily quiet, the usual crowds and noises absent, although the colorful lights of the rides still flash brightly against the darkening sky.

“This is… a lot,” I say, not quite sure how to feel about such an extravagant gesture.

“You work too hard,” Killian says simply. “We all do. Tonight is about having some fun.”

“At an empty fairground?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not the entire fairground,” Nico corrects, steering me toward a large, mirrored structure near the center of the park. “Just this particular attraction.”

My pulse quickens as we approach the funhouse. Its facade is garish, painted with exaggerated faces and bold letters.

“What exactly are you three planning?” I ask, although I’m starting to get an inkling, and heat is already building low in my belly.

Once we’re inside, Killian turns to face me and reaches into his pocket. My breath catches as he pulls out the familiar mask—the one he used to wear at the club, back when he was a stranger who fucked me in the dark.

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