Page 215 of Chandelier Sin
His breath was stolen before he could cry out.
His face turned blue, his eyes bulging as his mouth went slack.
Was this real?
Even though he’d tried to have me killed, should I intervene, do the right thing and try to help? Shouldn’t I follow the ethics I adamantly believed in?
My gut told me it would put Stella at risk, and Eve, too. My procrastination felt like torture—holding back meant tipping the balance to futility.
He was being strangled until the air in his lungs was all used up; even as his brain continued the fight to survive.
The man fell backwards onto his attacker, his heels protesting as they squeaked on hardwood flooring, arms and legs flailing.
I now realized that no one was immune from their wrath. Status and money meant nothing here.
Lance’s body was now splayed at an odd angle on the hardwood floor.
Fucking hell, they’d killed him. In cold blood. For all to see. As I scanned the masked faces, I saw no sign of horror in their eyes. That indifference was a horror in and of itself.
Lance had lived his life on the edge of terror, and he’d been shackled by it in the end.
Without ceremony, he was hoisted up and two men dragged him toward the door.
Nausea welled up in my throat. I cringed when his lulling head was bashed against the doorjamb on the way out.
Easing my hand away from Stella’s eyes, I sensed she’d heard Lance’s death gurgle. She leaned back against me, staring toward the center of the room, seeing that Lance was gone.
Her body stiffened as though she feared what had happened to him might happen to her.
I knew she was wondering if she would be next.
The magnitude of what I’d just witnessed hit me.
We’d all stood around witnessing a man take his last breath, and no one had lifted a finger to help him.
There were so many damn crimes of his to consider, and yet him trespassing onto the sixth floor had been his undoing.
How the hell had I survived?
Aemon had decided I had value—that had to be it.
We all hated Lance, obviously. Still, seeing him go out in such a manner was fucking terrifying.
I kept checking the reactions of the others and was still shocked to see they were unperturbed. If anything, I felt a crackle of excitement whip around the room. These guests were feeling high from witnessing a man’s death.
Pulse racing, chest tight, I resisted looking over at Eve. The eyes of those sitting on the dais were scouring the room, as though assessing our reactions.
Had Eve witnessed this kind of thing before?
I didn’t want to see her in that way, even if she had been coerced into taking part in it.
But most important now was getting Stella out of here.
Eve’s expression conveyed her aching sadness. As though she knew I was finally seeing her in her natural habitat.
A den of evil.
There was no turning back. No way to prove that Stella hadn’t trespassed into this chamber alongside Lance.
