Page 179 of King of Envy

He’d joined the team a year ago. Now he was dead because of me.Always because of me.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Emmanuelle said. “I knew he’d been tailing me for weeks the same way I knew you’d bugged my office. I admit, it took me longer to find the surveillance chip than I would’ve liked, but you are better at this than him. I’m almost offended you didn’t send someone more experienced to keep an eye on me.” She clicked her tongue. Her eyes slid past me and rested on Roman, who’d been silent this whole time. “Good job. He fell for the plan just like you said he would.”

“He’s predictable when it comes to her.” Roman tipped his chin toward Ayana. He sounded bored. “It would be romantic if it wasn’t so stupid.”

Ayana’s eyes blazed. She glared up at him like she was imagining tearing his entrails out, inch by inch.

“Enough chitchat. It really is time to get started.” Emmanuelle waved her gun in Wentworth’s direction. “Do what you must.”

His face lit up. He approached Ayana and sat her upright again.

“Trying to escape with a high heel?” He laughed. “Cute, but it was never going to work.” He reached for her top.

“Touch a hair on her head, and you’ll regret it. I promise.” My soft warning echoed in the vast space.

The thirst for vengeance pressed deeper inside me, making me bleed, bleed, bleed until a film of bloody crimson covered my vision.

Wentworth paused. Surprise lit up his face, followed by malicious delight. “So he speaks! Here I thought you were just a stupid brute.”

Ayana opened her mouth, but I cut her off with a quick glance. I did not want that asshole’s attention to return to her.

“What’s the reason for this? Control of the Brotherhood? Or revenge for your brother?” I asked Emmanuelle. She was the one I needed to worry about, not some punk who was trying to act tough. “If you wanted me, you could’ve attacked me directly instead of doing all of this.” I nodded at our surroundings.

“My brother?” Emmanuelle blinked, clearly surprised I’d connected the dots between her and Shepherd. She recovered a second later and laughed like I’d told a particularly funny joke over afternoon tea. “So. You found out about Stéphane—or Shepherd, as he called himself before he died—but no, this isn’t about him. In fact, you did me a favor by killing him. He thought he was so smart and could take control after the old leadership died.” She snorted. “But he always lacked vision. Strategy. That was how you were able to ambush him so easily. But he had the name recognition and manpower, which was how he’d stayed in the game for so long. Otherwise, I would’ve crushed him long ago.”

Her words sank in. My gaze didn’t waver from hers. “You’re the other faction leader.” It wasn’t a question.

Emmanuelle’s smile widened. “No, not a stupid brute at all,” she said. Wentworth rolled his eyes, but he appeared to be so enraptured by our conversation he’d forgotten about Ayana—for now. “I’ve kept my identity hidden from all except my most loyal followers. No one ever suspects I’m a woman. Misogyny can be a useful tool if you know how to wield it.” She closed the distance between us. “Roman was my cover. My figurehead. People thought he was the leader.” She laughed again. “We sent him to infiltrate my brother’s faction, and he did so admirably. Even convinced you to take out Shepherd for us.”

She paused for a response. When I didn’t give her one, she continued, looking slightly disappointed. “I initially didn’t care whether we took you out or not. We’d agreed that whoever killed you would become the next leader, but I simply sat back and let Shepherd go after you. I knew he’d never beat you. It was only a matter of time before you got rid of him for me, and you did.” Emmanuelle shrugged. “Control of the Brotherhood is an inevitability. Like I said, my brother had no vision. He wanted to keep things the same when the organization has the potential to be so much more than a group of for-hire killers. With its manpower, it could be anempire. Arms dealing. Money laundering. Nothing was impossible. But he never got that.”

“Yet you funded him throughout this ‘war’ between the factions,” I said coldly.

“Only a little bit.” She wrinkled her nose. “I had to play the part of the good sister. He didn’t know I was the other faction leader. That’s how clueless he was. He told me a little too much about the Brothers even before the old leadership died. Shepherd always had a big mouth. I was able to slip in through him and see how things worked. I quietly built a following of members who shared my vision. Only a trusted few knew my real identity; the rest were drawn to what I promised, not who I was. If Shepherd had taken control, he would’ve run the Brotherhood into the ground. But you know…” She tapped her gun against my arm. “I would’ve left you alone if you hadn’t stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. I don’t like leaving loose ends behind. Fortunately, Ayana turned out to be a useful distraction.” Her smile returned. “I kept you both busy enough with the lawsuit while I set all this up, didn’t I?”

“She had me plant the photos of what you did to that poor man in Ayana’s apartment,” Wentworth piped up. “Said it would throw you two into a tailspin, and it did. If she?—”

“Shut up, Wentworth,” Emmanuelle said without taking her eyes off me.

He quieted again, his mouth taking on a mulish set.

“He was very upset with what you did, Vuk,” she murmured. “I promised him he could make you suffer if he helped me out with a few small tasks. I hope you don’t mind. I simply must repay my debts if I want to start my empire on the right foot.”

I was sick of this woman’s voice. She was smarter than her brother, that much was true, but she was also like every other narcissistic megalomanic out there—driven by the desire to flaunt her “accomplishments” and blinded by the need for validation from those they deemed worthy of bestowing it.

That was why she’d rambled on for so long when she could’ve easily shot us both and gotten this over with.

Sadly for her, she would never have my respect. Not a single ounce of it.

I leaned forward, looked her dead in the eyes, and spat in her face.

Wentworth’s jaw dropped.

The saliva dripped off Emmanuelle’s perfectly made-up face. A snarl destroyed her gloating calm, and she backhanded me with the gun so hard my ears rang. Pain exploded across my right cheek. I spat out a mouthful of blood and smiled.

That only enraged her more. Her eyes bulged, and she raised her arm as if to strike me again before she stopped. “Roman, step back. Wentworth, take care of Ayana,” she ordered.

Roman removed the gun from my temple and stepped aside without a word. Terror seeped through the cracks of my fury when Wentworth reached for Ayana again.

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