Page 74 of Poison Aches

I eye his back, wondering when he’ll finally show his true face. I might have to cause that to happen.

After all, cowards are never up-front about their desires.

Scarlet moves closer to whisper in my ear, “Cover for me, I’m going off grid.” Then she quickly leaves.

I shake my head, knowing full well that she’s about to cause trouble. She’s going to weave a story to her father and expect me to back it up. I sigh.

Xavier is reluctant to go. I know these private chats with Grandfather are what he lusts after the most. I stand in silence, holding up my umbrella, not paying attention to Xavier’s gaze on me.

Never give a clown your attention—they’ll just waste your fucking time.

He’s the type that will go all out to impress Grandfather… but that’s his problem. He can’t recognize the danger in petting and keeping a shark amused and well-fed.

One day, it’ll scent your blood when you scrape your knee, then tear you apart for that mere mistake.

“Grandfather, did I mention that I?—”

“Leave,” Grandfather says curtly, cutting Xavier off.

With one last withering glare my way, Xavier turns and storms out of the graveyard, likely trying to formulate a plan in his thick skull.

At the age of twenty-three, he doubles as a playboy—and a clueless one at that. He isn’t even aware that I have a gift for him that he’ll spend the rest of his miserable life cleaning up.

It’s then that Grandfather presses a button on his wheelchair and swivels around.

“And?” Grandfather starts after everyone is gone, his voice cagey due to the years of smoking cigars. “What’s the situation in New York?”

The question this time is directed to me. He’s got something brewing in that thick skull of his.

“Eli Beaumont is sharp and keeps a tight ship. But I have a way in.”

“And which way is that? Your little band of fools that you’ve been parading as friends for all these years?”

I stare at the tombstone in front of us, thinking back to the heirs.

Alex King, Noah Montreal, the twins, George & Astraea Beaumont… three fourths of the Blues.

But as I think of them, I don’t feel any sentiment.

Sentiment is something I canneverhave. It’s all just business. A means to an end.

“Precisely.”

“Explain,” Grandfather demands. “How can you get a hold of the city and the town while also wiping out the Phoenix?”

Astraea and George’s father, aka the Phoenix, is the boss of The Phoenix Corp and basically runs most of the underbelly in the States.

Once, that used to be us.

Before there was ever such a thing as the alliance between the four families of Westbrook Blues, everything belonged to the Eastons—until it didn’t.

But now, the fact that Grandfather is asking about just one city tells me that I was right.

Sly old man.

In our world, connections are everything.

Wars over turf is really war over power, influence, wealth, and people.

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