Page 30 of Princess of Vengeance

“The deal,” Malcolm continues with a slight nod in Quinn’s direction, “is for her.”

12

QUINN

Malcolm’s wordsmake my stomach clench, but I keep my face as neutral as fucking Switzerland. The last thing I’m going to do is let this asshole see how much it rattles me to watch the Princes forced to their knees in front of me, zip-tied and bloody.

The guard behind me shifts and grinds his gun harder against my temple, reminding me that one wrong word or sudden move will end this for good. My men are counting on me to get this right, and I don’t want to let them down.

There’s a dull ache in my side where my wounds have started to open again. They’ve started to heal, so it isn’t as dramatic as it was the first time it happened, but I can still feel blood starting to seep through my shirt.

Physical pain is just an inconvenience right now though. That’s the kind of shit I can handle all day long. What’s tearing me apart is seeing my men like this and knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do about it at the moment.

It seems that Malcolm really did learn his lesson at Noctura. Those zip ties are cutting into their wrists tight enough to draw blood. Every guard is laser-focused, with their weapons trained and ready. There’s no loose grip to break free from, no moment of distraction to exploit. No miracle escape this time.

Atlas’s face is smeared with blood from whatever hit he took, but his eyes are locked on mine like he’s trying to tell me something. Next to him, Nico’s lip is split and swelling, rage coming off of him in waves that I can practically feel. And Killian… Jesus. Even with a gun pressed against his head, he looks ready to rip someone’s throat out with his teeth.

“What do you want?” My words come out surprisingly steady, considering the way my heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest. Whatever bullshit deal he’s about to offer, it’s going to be bad for me and worse for my men. Malcolm doesn’t do anything that doesn’t benefit him in the end.

“Since the Dark Lotus Syndicate was formed, our rules have been followed to the letter. Do you know why?”

He sounds like he’s giving a fucking Ted Talk instead of holding us at gunpoint. I keep my mouth firmly shut, which makes his jaw flex with irritation. Good.

“Because without rules, organizations like ours devolve into chaos. Into meaningless violence and petty backstabbing that tear everything apart.” He stops directly in front of me. “The rules are what separate us from common street thugs.”

“Get to the fucking point,” I hiss.

I’m pushing my luck by talking to him like this. No, I don’t fucking care anymore. Every second he wastes on this theatrical bullshit is only delaying whatever impossible choice he’s about to give me.

He’s clearly already thought this moment through to its conclusion. The only thing that remains to be seen is whether I decide to play along or die.

His eyes narrow at my tone, but that cold smile never wavers. “The point, my dear, is that rules must be followed. And the rule clearly states that for refusing to carry out your votum to Elliot, you must die.”

One of my men lets out a quiet snarl. Atlas, maybe, or Killian. I fucking hate that they’re being forced to listen to this pompous asshole deliver his speech. All they want—all they’ve ever tried to do—is to ensure my safety. Even when I gave them every reason to want me dead.

All I’ve done to repay that loyalty is to lead us into one life-threatening situation after another. This might be the end of the road for us though.

“However.” Malcolm steps closer and reaches out to touch my face, but I jerk away from his hand. “There is a way around that particular rule.”

“Yeah?” I bite out. “And what’s that?”

“Marry me.”

The words shock me into silence. It’s literally the last thing I expected him to say, and I stare at him for a suspended second, trying to process his words.

“Be my wife,” he continues, “and I can protect you from the consequences of your poor choices. No one would dare touch my wife, after all.”

I finally find my voice and manage to choke out, “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Not at all.”

Malcolm closes the distance between us with two smooth steps. The guard shifts enough to let him lean in close as his voice drops to a low murmur meant only for me.

“Let me be very clear about something. By our rules, the only life that’s technically forfeit is yours. Your men aren’t part of the Syndicate. The only thing they’ve done wrong is to follow you, ill-advised as that might have been.”

I’m starting to see where he’s going with this, and I think I might throw up.

“But if you refuse my generous offer?” He angles his head slightly, no doubt making sure I can see the cold satisfaction inhis eyes. “I’ll kill them anyway. And this time, I won’t save them for last.”

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