As if he would be so salacious. “I didn’t purchase her for my own benefit if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Unbidden, Kit’s gaze drifted over to Luna and lingered a second more. “Very little doesn’t benefit you in some way.”
Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.
And he was also clearly not impressed with his choice.
“She’s a little young for what you need, isn’t she?”
He might not have known who she was, but he was already protective of her, which was the reason he’d wanted to entrust her care to him in the first place.
Darkly amused, he asked a question of his own. “Should I be asking that of you?”
“You are fucking insufferable,” Kit said with a long-suffering sigh, speaking in their mother language so Luna didn’t understand him.
“Excuse us, Luna,” Kit said, looking from him to Luna again. “Continue as you were.”
His brother wasn’t the sort to make a scene in front of others—even if that someone was like Luna. Instead, he liked to wait until he had the person secluded away before he said what he wanted to say.
That way, if he felt that homicidal urge as many assassins did, he could kill them with less fuss.
“I’ve known for the last twenty-two years of my life that your actions are reckless and premature, but I would never think that you would let hubris get you killed. What on earth has possessed you to make an enemy of Lawrence Kendall?”
“An enemy?” Uilleam questioned with a shake of his head. “He came to me. Apologies that I don’t recount my every move with you, brother. Should I call you when I wipe my arse as well?”
Kit ignored his last comment entirely. “And the girl? What is she here for?”
To make a liar out of you. “For the same reason that the rest of the broken souls are brought to my compound.”
“You mean to make her into a mercenary?” he asked with clear disdain. “Though your depravity doesn’t surprise me, that still doesn’t explain why she’s here.”
Now, he needed an excuse. “Zachariah is busy at the moment working with another recruit—a Russian. Pathetic little thing really, but he shows promise. Besides, he has this new rule where they need to be of a certain age—men and their ridiculous morals.”
The trick was to thread just enough truth around the lies he told. Z had told him that he wouldn’t train Luna because of her age at the time, but as it stood, he had no idea where the man was at the moment.
But Kit didn’t know that.
“And,” Uilleam added as he picked up the glass Kit had offered him, “considering where she’s been, I thought it might be better if she could focus on her training rather than the scores of men at the compound.”
“You care about her feelings?” Kit asked sarcastically. “You?”
As if he weren’t a human capable of empathy, but he’d let him believe what he wanted.
“I care about my investment.”
“An investment you made … today? You decided to just buy her?”
Uilleam shrugged. “He happened to be holding an auction. Who would I be if I didn’t partake? It was the spirit of the evening.”
“It wasn’t that simple. It never is with you.”
“No, I’m far too clever for that.”
“Then my question remains the same. Why have you brought her here?”
“Let’s call it a test run,” Uilleam said with a narrowed gaze. “I want you to train her.”
He knew as much as Z did, and if he was right, he’d also be a mentor for her.
“You misunderstand. If I thought you were incapable of seeing this done, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place. That’d be a waste of both our times, no?”
“If I’m to do this, I’m not going to be quick about it,” Kit said. “She won’t be ready for some time—six months at the minimum.”
“Not to worry,” Uilleam said, thinking of Luna’s mother and the plans he had in store for her. “It’s not an election year.”
Kit didn’t understand his meaning, but it was clear he knew those words meant something. “What game are you playing at?”
“Do I have your agreement that you’ll train her?”
“You do.”
“Very well.” Uilleam moved to his feet, job done. “And the game? It’s not one that concerns you presently.”
He had bigger prey to apprehend in the interim.
“Not everyone enjoys the games you play, Uilleam,” Kit reminded him.
As if he really needed it. “Yet so many profit from them.”
“Of course. It doesn’t sound like you’re giving me much choice here.”
A smile stretched wide across Uilleam’s face. “We always have choices, brother. The question is whether you’ll pick the right one.”
12
Embrace The Pain
Isla wanted what was best for her.
She would, Karina knew, protect her at all costs because that was just the sort of sister she was. And in her mind, a lie told with her in mind didn’t constitute the same weight as one told just for the sake of it.
Except Karina had gotten good at spotting her tells. Before, Isla had always stumbled over whatever lie she told, and when she caught on to that, her gaze would shift to the left. But in the years since, Isla had gotten better.
Had perfected the art in a lot of ways … but the hopelessness she’d felt in the last few years had finally started to chip, revealing a throbbing, beating feeling in her chest that she was still trying in vain to contain.
But it was there now, brewing at the surface
And when she had her questions answered, whatever Isla said would either cause the dam to burst or cool the hottest flames of her anger.
“Iz—”
Isla sat on the side of her bed as Karina entered, a towel in her hand as she wrung her hair free of water. She looked surprised to see Karina standing there, and something else lingered behind her gaze.
“I thought you’d be—”
“You faked my death.”
“Yes,” she said, her brows drawing together in confusion. “I told you that.”
“But you never told me why.”
Her chin tilted up a fraction. “Because you wanted me to make it all go away, and that’s what I did.”
Oh, how she wished it was actually that simple—that she didn’t think Isla was hiding something from her. “You taught me that it is always better to tell an unkind truth than to tell a lie, so I’m asking you to tell me.”
Isla sighed, tossing her brush aside. “Karina, why can’t you leave this be?”
“Because I’m stuck,” she said—confessed, feeling the weight of the words. “Because I feel like I’m chasing a ghost while everyone else knows that I’m not.”
“I don’t—”
“Zoran looked at you back there.”
“You can’t possibly think anything was behind that? Zoran always looks at me.”
“But this time, he wasn’t looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. He looked at you once he heard Grimm’s name.”
“Karina—”
“Isla, just tell me the truth now! What are you hiding?”
“Who he works for,” Isla said on the heels of her question as if she were just as anxious to share as Karina was to find out.
“Grimm?” Karina asked. “But we already know who he works for—a man named Z.”
“One of the best assassins to come out of the Lotus Society, so I’ve heard,” a voice interrupted. Katherine emerged from the shadows, focusing her gaze on Karina. “Was so good, in fact, they hired him to be something of a teacher for any new recruits brought into the folds. Or at least, that’s the official story.”
Usually, Isla would try to stop their mother from speaking further, but for once, she was silent.
And it was then that she knew … she was about to get the truth.
“But he wasn’t just an asset because he could make a man’
s death look like an accident. He was also brought in because he was the only one who could get close to Alexander without getting himself killed in the process.”
Another name.
Another fracture-like feeling in her chest.
Alexander was the name of Uilleam’s father.
Z, the mysterious uncle she hadn’t gotten the chance to meet.
“Do you hate him so much that you would accuse him of ... of—”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it. It just wasn’t possible.
“You were introduced to a man named Gaspard when the two of you went to Paris, no?”
“Yes, but what does he have to do with anything?”
“Gaspard has holdings in more than two dozen different businesses around the country. Three of which provide shipping routes around the Eastern Seaboard.”
“And if you have control of docks,” Karina responded absently, remembering all of her lessons, “you can smuggle in anything you want.”
“Or anyone. The possibilities are endless. But Gaspard wasn’t just an eccentric businessman with a taste for all things illegal. He had a seat at the table. A table that requires a vote for anyone who wants to sit at it. You have to prove yourself worthy to them.”
The world is a chessboard—you just have to learn to play the game.
It was connected.
All of it.
One move after the next until …
“Jordan Omerti had an arrangement with Uilleam,” Karina whispered, her voice too soft.
Too afraid.
“I’ve heard rumors about the man you’ve been meeting with. The Kingmaker, they’re calling him.”
“You’re wondering whether he’s made me an offer?”
“I know what it’s like to be on the opposing side of him, knowing it’s better not to cross the Kingmaker. He doesn’t respond well to perceived slights.”
Uilleam didn’t respond well to being betrayed. He reacted violently.
He didn’t think about what he did. He just acted with blind rage, making his displeasure known.
No matter how often she’d told him actions had consequences, he never considered it.
It broke.
That mass in her chest that she’d carefully buried down deep for the last three years splintered and shattered, releasing that bone-deep agony that she’d been trying to ignore.
The pain was back.
Stealing her breath away.
Her arm shot out to catch herself on the bedpost before she could fall—before that burst of feeling made her crumple to the floor.
His mercenaries were his legacy. His way to gain power and make the world fear him in return.
And he’d used one the first chance he got.
It didn’t matter that he hid behind the scenes because he was the one who was truly in charge.
He was the one who’d ordered the hit because he’d felt slighted.
He was the one to send a mercenary to murder a man and whoever he was with because that was the way of it. No one was safe from him.
Not even her.
She was merely another pawn in Uilleam’s game.
“Karina,” Isla whispered, the blurred shape of her appearance at the edge of her vision. “I’m sorry.”
Not as sorry as she was.
Because when it came down to it, he had cared more about his title—even cared more about murdering people than even talking to her when she’d called him that day.
“Darlin—”
“He took something from me,” Karina whispered, struggling to find her voice—to remain standing in the face of what had just been revealed. “It’s only fair I take something from him in return.”
She’d been as blinded by him as the rest of the world—seeing who he was and what he could become.
She had loved him, and he’d broken her.
Stolen the life she had never got to hold.
Uilleam didn’t have to answer to anyone, but he was going to answer to her if it was the last thing he ever did.
Pressed between the pages of the heaviest book in the library was a single flower she had brought along with her from New York.
Karina hadn’t known how long she’d be away—had hoped, in fact, to be home by now—but a part of her had wanted to bring this flower along with her if only because it had felt important to bring a piece of what meant the world to her.
It brought her peace to know it was tucked away where no one could find it.
Which was why she needed it now.
Something to ground her—to make sure she tethered herself to something lest she get sucked back into the pool of despair she’d only just escaped from.
On her knees, she placed the tome in front of her, flipping through the pages until she found the flower tucked away in the very center.
The red petals had faded to a softer color, the stem having browned slightly. But it was still a poppy all the same.
Karina picked it up, turning it around in her hand for a long while before she stood and walked over to the window where the row of candles was waiting.
Katherine had always been old-fashioned and preferred a certain aesthetic within their home, which was why in every room, there were candles waiting.
She struck a match and lit three, watching the flames lick at the wicks before settling.
The doctors had told her there was nothing wrong with having a funeral. It could possibly help in the grieving process, they said. From the moment those words were out of their mouths, she dismissed them just as quickly.
She hadn’t been ready to say goodbye—to acknowledge the truth about what happened.
But now, she knew. It was time.
“I could never say goodbye,” she whispered to the flower as she set it on the ledge in front of the candles. “But wherever this should go, know that it’s for you.”
Because Karina would do everything in her power to avenge her.
To make everyone involved pay for what they had done.
And most of all, he would understand what pain really meant by the time she finished with him.
Uilleam Runehart would rue the day they ever met.
13
What Wasn’t Said
Three months later …
“I’m sorry it’s taken this long,” Karina said to the silent man sitting in the corner.
Truthfully, she had thought it would be easier to forego everything she knew for the sake of the vengeance she wanted. But knowing why she needed to do something and actually doing it were two very different things, she’d come to learn.
In the three months since she had learned the truth about that day, she still hadn’t acted. Sure, she had learned everything she possibly could about Grimm and the new shadowy organization he belonged to.
She had pieced together everything she knew about Uilleam from her time with him and created her own file on the pair of them.
Now, the only thing she needed to do was use it.
“I’d hoped to have you free by now,” she continued, resting back in the chair she’d been given.
Despite the Director’s hesitance in willing to sell the man’s services, his complaints at her repeated visits to see him had dwindled. And on the rather occasion, like today, he even had one of his guards bring her in a chair so she wouldn’t have to stand the entirety of her visit.
The subject of her attention, however, hadn’t changed in all the time she had spent with him. He was as silent as ever, though they didn’t require him to wear the mask any longer, and no matter what she said to him, he never responded.
But she still felt a connection to him, even if she didn’t understand why. She still wanted to free him of this place because it was what he deserved. No one deserved this existence.
But whether he responded to the things she said to him, she still talked to him as if he were a person rather than talk about him as if he weren’t in the room at all.
“I—”
“Miss Ashworth, the d
irector wants to see you.”
She glanced back at the guard who’d entered the room, his wary gaze lingering on the man in the corner as if he expected him to rise at any moment and attack him.
“Can it wait?”
“No, ma’am.”
Very well. “I’ll see you soon.”
“He’s coming too.”
Karina didn’t allow her surprise to show, merely went along with the guard’s direction as he led them out of the room.
Since that very first day she arrived, she and the director had come to … something of an understanding, though she often thought that description was shaky at best.
He did let her visit as often as she liked—thanks in part to a phone call from Katherine, she imagined. But he refused to bend on what she needed to ultimately free him.
Not just a person that would take his place here, but someone who could withstand fighting him in that pit for longer than five minutes.
But as much as that idea had scared her before, she’d thought of that for quite a while since the day he told her.
There would have to be someone capable of that same kind of skill—someone who could manage to kill a number of people in a short period of time and escape before he could be caught.
Someone Uilleam would recruit to his newly formed Den.
She and the director weren’t on the same page by any stretch of the imagination—especially when she refused to bend on the way she felt about this place.
People were entitled to run their business the way they saw fit, but she didn’t have to be a fan of it, nor did she have to support it, and no matter how that might have made her look, she had her own business to run.
Which was why she wasn’t entirely sure why he was requesting a meeting with her. After that first time, he tended to avoid her when she came around, making her wonder just how Katherine had threatened him.
Or if she had information on that could prove disastrous …
“Miss Ashworth,” the man greeted formally the moment she was inside his office.
He was far too pleased with himself as he gestured for her to have a seat in front of his desk as if she were one of his subordinates and needed to be instructed like one.
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