Page 34 of Princess of Vengeance

There’s nothing subtle about the unspoken threat. He’ll wait, but not forever. And I’d better be on board by the time his patience runs out.

“You’ll see eventually that this is all for the best, Quinn. This arrangement will benefit both of us in time. You’ll see.”

The best thing—the only thing—for me to do right now is to keep my mouth shut. Let him think whatever he wants. Let him believe I’ll come around. As long as it keeps him from touching me tonight, I don’t give a fuck.

He turns to lead me down the hallway, and a dozen ways to kill the bastard flash through my mind. I could go for his throat and try to crush his windpipe before his guards could stop me. I could throw myself at him and dig my thumbs into those cold eyes until they pop. Or maybe wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until that condescending smile disappears forever.

But I don’t do any of the violent shit I’m imagining, because none of it would accomplish a damn thing except getting me and my men killed. And that’s the whole fucking point of this nightmare—keeping the four of us alive and making sure they stay breathing even if it means letting this monster put a ring on my finger.

“Your room.” He gestures to a door at the end of the hall, and it’s impossible not to notice the possessive glint that’s back in his eyes. “For now, at least.”

For now.

The implications in those two words make my stomach twist. Until he decides I’ve had enough time to “adjust.” Until he decides to move me into his bed whether I want it or not.

“I trust you’ll find everything you need.” I follow him until he stops and opens the door to reveal a spacious bedroom. “Unless there’s something specific I can provide for you?”

Yeah. A gun. A knife. Any weapon I could use to slit your throat while you sleep.

“No.” I keep my tone as flat and empty as his smile. “This is fine.”

The look on his face tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking. And that he doesn’t give a fuck, because we both know I won’t act on it. Not while my men’s lives hang in the balance.

Once he finally leaves me alone, I peel off my bloody shirt and check the damage. Most of my remaining stitches held, thank fuck. Well, thanks to Killian. But the thought of him makes my chest ache worse than any of my injuries.

The cuts I made through our tattoos have mostly stopped bleeding too. Three clean lines slashed through the circles that bound us together. My fingers trace over them, and the pain is sharp and immediate—exactly what I deserve after what I did to my men.

Gritting my teeth, I pull my shirt back on, switch off the light, then collapse onto the soft sheets of this prison-cell bedroom, too exhausted to do more than kick my boots off. A bitter laugh bubbles up in my throat as I remember how terrified I was about marrying Nico, thinking he was my enemy. I seriously thought all three of them were my enemies.

Fuck, I was so wrong.

Because those three men? The ones I just betrayed in the most brutal way possible? They’re the other pieces of my soul. And now I’m about to bind myself to a real monster. A man who deals in human lives like they’re playing cards.

I stare up at the ceiling. I’m fucking bone-tired, but sleep doesn’t come. So I lie here in the dark, staring into the shadows on the walls and remembering the warmth of Atlas’s arms around me. The sound of Nico’s heartbeat under my ear. The way Killian’s hands always steadied me when I needed it the most.

Thatwas supposed to be my life. Those three men.

But I chose this.

And now I have to live with it.

14

KILLIAN

I standin the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, watching Nico lose his fucking mind. He’s already put three holes in the wall and broken every piece of furniture in sight. His knuckles are bleeding, but the dark smears he’s leaving on the plaster with each new punch are the least of my worries.

“Why did she do this?” Another crash as he hurls a lamp against the wall. “Ma che cazzo! She wouldn’t fucking do this to us.”

But she did. I saw it with my own eyes. We all watched her take that piece of glass and slash through the marks that bound us together like they meant nothing. Likewemeant nothing.

Atlas moves to grab Nico’s arm before he can throw the chair he’s holding. “Stop. You’re going to bring the whole fucking neighborhood down on us.”

“Let them come.” Nico pulls free and hurls the chair at the wall. “What’s the fucking point anymore? Malcolm got what he wanted. The Syndicate doesn’t give a shit about us now that they have her.”

They have her.

The words stab me right in the heart, but I don’t let the pain show. The only tell I’ve allowed myself is that my hands twitchslightly as I curl them into fists. That’s how tempted I am to join Nico in destroying everything in sight.

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