Page 59 of Queen of Madness

What if it does do all those things?

Will I still feel the need to carry on with my plan?

The need to rip them all apart?

It’s too big of a risk. So I push the burn back down my throat, wipe away the sting radiating across my eyelids and wash the filth from my body.

Though I’m leaving myself to wander through the dark, I know two things.

One, I’m not alone.

Two, I’m not lost.

* * *

I sit to the left of my uncle in the long meeting room, surveying the many faces I’ve gotten to know much more than I’d ever wanted to in the past.

We have these gatherings every quarter and all the heads of each area come and have something like a brainstorming meeting. One of the twins is shadowing the man in charge of weapons and another over security. Both of them are older and while death is usually the retirement plan, they have been made privy that they get to spend some years on the beach when the boys hit twenty-one.

Kilo fidgets next to an even more erratically moving woman. She hasn’t worked for us long, and judging from the dark circles encasing her eyes, the constant scratching, and the tweaks of her head, I don’t think she’ll head the drug distribution much longer.

It seems as if for every part we gain, we lose, and I know my uncle feels the same frustrations as he goes over our numbers. We’ve profited a ghastly amount of money in weapons and cocaine. Our clubs are doing okay but need a bit of work to modernize them, just like our rentals.

“There’s a social media influencer that does interior design. Let’s pay her and dust our hands of it, uncle. One less thing to worry about. We need to focus our efforts on the consistent loss of heroin product.” My dark eyes flash over to the woman who has the nerve to look irked.

“What are you trying to say, girl?” the woman snaps, her head tilting to the side.

“Thisgirl, the one restraining herself from slicing your throat across our beautiful table, is your Boss.” I keep my voice calm, but pointed, an itch starting to irritate my calm. “Have you checked with your runners? Made sure they are not skimming something for themselves?”

“So what if they are? What is a little bit of compensation in the grand scheme of things? It’s not as if the money would be missed.”

My uncle adjusts at my side, but I don’t take my eyes away from the woman. I examine her unmanicured nails, filled to the brim with dirt and probably dead skin. Her suit is far too big, letting me know she must have ruined or sold the ones we give all those who work for us and replaced it with a cheap replica. Her hair is pulled in a bun, but the strands are haphazard, and look as if they haven’t been brushed in days.

After my parents’ death, the Murphys took advantage, killing some of the people we’ve had for years. They can’t come anywhere near the Embros estate, but they have done well, ridding us of good soldiers—of good people. We were left to choose the best among what was available. People we knew we needed to watch until we could trust them.

Now, it seems as if the unfortunate soul in front of me will have to join all the others that couldn’t make the cut. “I want to make one thing clear. You’re saying it is okay to steal. From me?”

Her dirty green eyes widen, the realization settling over her.

I am not my mother, nor my father, but something in between. Something that was once light and full, now tragic and barren. My reign as their predecessor will be made from the blood of anyone who opposes me, and my throne will be fastened with their bones.

Everything that kept the hidden monster at bay is long gone. All that is left is something hungry for screams, and I must feed it.

By the time I’m up and behind the woman, she barely has time to turn. The knife I keep between my breasts is sliding across her narrow throat. Tingles erupt through my body, the sensation euphoric as it sends shivers down my spine.

Blood spurts in a perfect one-hundred-and-eighty-degree line, decorating the table, and the sleeves of those she sat next to.

After wiping both sides of my blade on her horrific suit jacket, I return to my seat, my words meant for Kilo. “Find out if it was her, or her runners.”

He nods and stands, moving with the twins, who are already up and disposing of the body, filling the room with the copper smell.

“Yes?” My uncle’s deep voice garners my attention. I hadn’t realized someone had called him, but a phone is to his ear, the folds of his skin prominent as he furrows his eyebrows. “We’ll be right there.”

“Who was that?” I question, my high slowly subsiding as I rise with him, hurrying to the door.

“The Murphys tried to pass some women through the port. Nothing new, but it was a setup. Soldiers were in the van with some women they must have planned to dump and attacked our people.”

Fire blazes through me, the mere mention of their names closing my throat while burning me from the inside out.