Page 51 of Goldsin

“Deal.” A smile tugs at the corner of her plump lips.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AURELIA

“Are you sure about this?” Eleanora asks, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve told you a million times, I don’t trust the Harrow brothers. Especially Julian.”

I’m standing in front of the mirror at Eleanora’s house, applying a thick layer of red lipstick to match the color of myValentino Garavanisilk wool mini dress. Adrian gifted it to me on our second anniversary. It’s too pretty to throw away, so I still wear it sometimes.

I frown at her mention of Julian. It’s been two days since the meeting with Lucian Harrow, and I haven’t heard from him since.

“Trust me.” I glance over at her as she carefully curls her long black hair. “I feel the same way. But I need to blow off some steam, and Julian’s club has the best booze. Plus, I can’t spend another pamper Friday stuck at home watching ‘The Sweetest Thing’ one more time.”

Eleanora rolls her eyes, their amber color striking, and sighs in agreement. “Fine. But don’t come crying tome when Julian goes celebrating his victory with one of those skanks, breaking your heart again.”

“Please.” I scoff, giving myself a once-over in the mirror. “As if I’d let someone like him mess with my heart. Besides, you can’t talk. Last time I checked, your relationship with Emeric wasn’t all sunshine and roses.”

I’d never let Julian mess with my heart?Liar. He already has.

Eleanora and I became friends during our freshman year of high school, right after she found me crying my eyes out in the girls’ bathroom because Julian had pushed past me, ignoring my very existence, in front of his friends. She dried my tears and offered me some wise words on how to make him regret ever treating me that way while she munched on the star cookies I’d baked for him.

Her confidence and independence—and my lack of both—were what brought us closer together. She taught me how to believe in my own strength, while I taught her to let her sensitive side take over occasionally.

It’s funny how Eleanora helped me to become this version of myself who stands up for herself and the ones she loves—who isn’t scared of killing the people who wronged her mother—more than she knows.

“Exactly,” she says, “because there isnorelationship. We aren’t dating. We just have fun.”

“Whatever you say, Eleanora.”

She and Emeric are fuck buddies. She insists she likes it this way, but I know she’s secretly harboring feelings for him.

As we make our way to the Den, a place where predatorsgather to watch their own kind battle it out, I think back to how self-controlled I was in Lucian’s studio while my insides were screaming.

He was so relaxed as depravities left his mouth. The things he talked about crawled all over my skin. I wanted to end his life there and then. I was so tempted.

Instead I kept my cool and agreed to work with Julian on entertaining Victoria—whatever that means. It’s a risky move, but it’ll get me closer to my goal. And once the Marlowe family goes down, Lucian will be left vulnerable and exposed for me to kill him.

The fight club is packed when we arrive. The atmosphere is electric with anticipation. Glancing around the gloomy navy venue, I watch the crowd jitter with excitement for tonight’s fight. Two weeks have passed since the last one.

I feel my pulse quicken to the beat of the music as we move through the crowd. Even if the people here are all ironically dressed formally, this place remains tainted with danger, exciting me in ways I can’t fully understand.

“Look at us.” Eleanora’s voice strains above the blaring music. “We look like femme fatales, ready to break hearts and take names.”

I grin at her, feeling confidence surge in me with the way people are staring.

Eleanora looks stunning, dressed in a form-fitting dark purple leather dress that showcases her long legs. We decided to wear a matching set of black combat boots. The contrast between them and the red mini dresswith bows is exactly what I was aiming for: formal but edgy.

“Let’s hope so.” I scan the room for Julian. Tonight I need to make sure he sees how much time has passed since we were friends. I want him to see how much I’ve changed. He needs to know I’m not the same naïve little girl he discarded. And maybe I want him to want me. Just a little ... just for fun.

We take our positions near the front, close to the boxing ring in the middle of the room, as the crowd cheers and jeers, signaling that the fight is about to begin.

Julian will soon step into the ring.

Tonight the winner of the last fight will be up against him, vying for the title of the Most Ruthless Fighter in Seattle. A title Julian has held for three years now, ever since he opened the Den at twenty-five.

These tournaments happen every two weeks, drawing in people from all backgrounds who crave the adrenaline rush of watching the brutal fights—or participating in them.

This isn’t a closed-door event like the ones of the Inferno Consortium. Everyone is welcome here.

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