Page 92 of Princess of Vengeance

“I don’t think so,” Quinn insists. “This felt genuine. And it makes sense—if Malcolm has been using this blood debt system to manipulate all of them, to build his little empire of powerful criminals who owe him… why wouldn’t they resent him for it?”

I exchange a look with Nico, who seems to be considering it.

“If she’s really on board,” he says slowly, “this could actually work. Imogen has connections and resources. She could help recruit the others.”

“Exactly,” Quinn says. “She already has a relationship with Cassandra. She thinks she can bring her over to our side.”

“And then what?” I ask. “Say you manage to turn all of these Syndicate members against Malcolm. What’s the endgame?”

Quinn’s expression hardens, a cold light entering her eyes. “We take him down. Permanently.”

“You mean kill him,” Killian clarifies, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “He dies. And we make sure everyone knows it was the Syndicate that did it—that his own people turned on him.”

“That sends a message,” Nico nods approvingly. “It destabilizes the power structure he built.”

“And it keeps us off the radar,” I add, starting to see the logic. “If it looks like internal Syndicate business, no one comes looking for outsiders to blame.”

“It’s smart,” Killian admits. “But it hinges entirely on these people actually hating Malcolm enough to turn on him. You’re sure about that?”

Quinn’s face is set with determination. “No one in that room genuinely likes Malcolm. They fear him, they respect his power, but they don’t like him. And fear only gets you so far.” She takes a deep breath. “Imogen said it herself—the members of the Syndicate are survivors first. If they think Malcolm is going down, they’ll abandon him to save themselves.”

“Let’s hope they’re as predictable as Imogen thinks,” I say.

Quinn’s eyes meet mine, and I see a flash of the old Quinn there—the fierce leader who took over Enigma after her father died and kept it running through sheer force of will.

“They are,” she says with quiet certainty. “And even if they’re not, I’ll find another way. I’m not staying Malcolm’s wife for one day longer than necessary.”

I reach out and pull her to me, one arm wrapping around her shoulders. “Damn right you’re not,” I mutter against her hair. “You’re ours. And we’re taking you back.”

There’s a moment of quiet as we all take in what this plan against Malcolm could mean—freedom for Quinn, revenge for us, maybe even a chance at something like a normal life. But I can see there’s more she’s not telling us. Something’s weighing on her.

“What is it?” I ask.

She hesitates, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. “I had to go back to him after the last time I was here,” she says finally. “I had to sleep in his bed.”

I feel my muscles lock up, and beside me, Nico and Killian go equally still.

“Nothing happened,” she adds quickly as her eyes dart between us. “I made sure of that. But… he won’t wait forever.”

Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and it takes everything in me not to put my fist through the nearest wall.

“He’s fucking creepy,” she continues, wrapping her arms around herself. “The way he looks at me and talks about my mother. I don’t understand why he’s so obsessed.”

I reach for her, but she straightens her spine and lifts her chin. “I’m okay,” she insists. “I can handle it. I only have to wait a little longer until we can spring the trap on him.”

Her voice is steady, but I notice the goosebumps that scatter across her skin and the slight tremor in her hands that she tries to hide. She’s putting on a brave face, and it makes me want to tear Malcolm Mercer apart with my bare hands.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all,” Nico grumbles.

“What choice do I have? If I try to run, he’ll hunt us all down. This is the only way.”

Killian sets Princess down gently and moves toward Quinn. “We could end this tonight,” he says. “One bullet. Problem solved.”

She shakes her head. “And then what? The entire Syndicate would come after us. This way, we take out Malcolm and neutralize the Syndicate threat in one move.”

“She’s right,” I admit reluctantly. “Doesn’t mean we have to fucking like it though.”

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