Page 17 of Chandelier Enthralled
“Your debauchery won’t continue unchecked,” I replied, my tone laced with venom.
“Come back inside and play, or your friends will know all about your connection to Pendulum.”
“I don’t care for bribes, or blackmail.”
“You’ll lose everything.”
I glanced back toward the club. “You ruined it.”
“Pendulum exists because of men like you. Don’t forget that.”
“You’ve twisted the truth.”
“Pleasure is a delicacy best savored slowly.”
“With a hint of revenge?”
“Perversion. You just don’t have the stomach for dark delicacies, Greyson.”
“You believe the world will just look away?”
“Of course.”
Because it always does.
It was the brave few who made the difference; their names lost to history, but their hearts lived on in the good they did…we did.
“Tell me…” I leaned in, eyes gleaming with intrigue. “How long do you think you can keep the ghosts at bay? Places like this never forget. And they never forgive.”
“So dramatic, Greyson.” She curled her finger and caressed my cheek. “You’re the grand architect of Pendulum. The one who created the blueprints to the High Chamber.”
I never intended for anyone to get hurt, I thought bitterly.
She pouted. “After the night you saw Lance murdered, you never came back up. You don’t even have the stomach to enjoy what you designed.”
I had crafted a space with soaring ceilings, graceful arches, every detail a testament to beauty, and she’d twisted my vision into the grotesque.
I drew in a sharp breath. Beneath the surface she was right. I had played my part, inserted my vision when I had handed over the blueprints.
“Scared, Greyson?”
“I’m the one you’ll never see coming.”
She flashed me an impatient look. “You’ll let me do whatever I want to you because I own your future.”
“Not true.”
“You’re a man lost in his own illusions, too caught up in crafting masterpieces to ever see the truth. You sculpted beauty in there, while turning a blind eye to what was really happening. And by the time you woke up to reality, it was too late.”
Was that a barb aimed at Amelia?
Jewel was the embodiment of darkness itself, a malevolent elegance that relished the chaos left in her wake.
“Leave the others out of it,” I said. “Haven’t you done enough?”
“Not quite enough. I’ve outbid you.”
I paused to make sense of what she was saying. “You never wanted Pendulum.”
