Page 63 of Poison Vows

“When were you given the order?”

“At two in the morning.”

I’m stunned into silence.

It’s only a little past noon now and six hours ago these people were done completely obliterating Jackson’s father’s entire life.

Six hours ago I was still in Emmett’s bed, in some state of numbness and unconscious.

Meanwhile, his men were out there, doling out a revenge so brutal and swift, it was done within four of the five hours he ordered.

A flutter of disquieting unease blooms in me with an intense rush that weakens my knees. “You guys did all that in just four hours?” I mutter.

“Actually, it should be three and a half. My cousin’s command over the Family is almost absolute and undeniablyfirm. No one dares to disobey so, of course, it was done with terrifying speed.”

I stare at Vaughn’s handsome face that could be on the cover ofGQ, feeling like I’ve just been run over by a freight train.

“You sound resentful about that.” I whisper conspiratorially.

The annoyance in Vaughn’s dark eyes is unmistakable.

“I won’t hide it from you,” he says seriously. “I grew up in my cousin’s shadow. He was the golden child. The one who everyone feared, respected, and listened to. He even had Grandfather’s full support from the time we were toddlers. How can I not be annoyed?”

“You don’t strike me as the jealous type,” I muse. Vaughn chuckles but it sounds bitter.

“When you’re constantly criticized for being a little slower, a little less capable, or a little less unaccomplished than your brilliant cousin, you naturally grow some resentment in the pit of your consciousness.”

I eye him silently, realizing that Scar was right. This is far bigger than a mere rivalry.

“Like I said that night, there must be something about you that’s worth taking seriously,” I say softly. “Otherwise, why would you be in competition with him?”

Vaughn glances at me.

“Well, I’ve been known to slide in an advantage here and there,” Vaughn says. “Besides, things are no longer how they used to be before.”

“Oh? It sounds like you have an ace up your sleeve?” I pry.

“Of course I do,” he says cheerfully. “I noticed something at dinner last night.”

Masking my discomfort, I ask, “What?”

“My cousin is trying to win you over.”

I whip my head to look at him so fast, I think I almost snap it in two.

“What?”

“From the beginning, when Grandfather made it clear that it was down to my cousin and me to inherit his position in the Family, my cousin has been indifferent toward everything,” Vaughn says with a narrowed gaze. “It bothered the crap out of me how much he never cared about it at all, but the moment you were introduced as the deciding variable, everything switched, and last night, I finally, after all these years, became someone who bothers him.”

There’s a sense of pride and mirth in Vaughn’s words, as if he’s thoroughly enjoying this development.

“Is being a bother to Emmett that much of a good thing?” I ask silently.

Vaughn’s jaw clenches slightly. “My cousin’s level of detached is impossible to reach. I don’t know how to explain it, but I swear it’s like everything isnothingto him.”

That’s because everythingisnothing.

“Take the scope of the topmost people in the world, and then sift that by power, wealth, and ability, you’ll find that Emmett is considered as one of the upper 0.0001%.”

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