by J Bree
I arch an eyebrow at him. “Bingley Crawford? You mean Atticus’ older brother? His name isn’t up there because it’s already seared into my brain forever thanks to being forced to spend time with him as a child.”
Illi is very good at hiding his tells, one of the best, but I’m even better at spotting them.
I supposed he met Bing at the auctions… it would be just my luck that he probably bid on Odie and Illi has a score to settle with him.
“The entire Crawford family is awful. All of them except Atticus, so if Bing did something terrible please just— please don’t kill Atticus for it. I won’t stop you from hunting his entire family down and bleeding them out though.”
Illi cocks his head and jabs a finger at the photo. “Where is Bing these days? You know much about what he’s up to?”
I shrug and glance over at Aodhan but he’s engrossed in the Diarmuid information. “He’s the middle child so I know more about where Holden is than Bing but I’d assume he’s still partying in the Maldives with the underage prostitutes he enjoys. Atticus has made very sure that Bing hasn’t been around me since he cornered me at a party their father held and told me he wanted to feel how tight a Beaumont cunt was. I was thirteen.”
Illi nods slowly and I can practically see him running numbers in his head.
I open my mouth to question him more but Aodhan cuts me off, “Who do you have following Diarmuid? Who took this photo?”
I leave Illi to stare at Atticus’ twisted family tree and walk over to Aodhan. “An old police officer who was fired for trying to investigate the auctions. I’ve paid him a lot over the years, I trust him as much as I can trust someone outside of my family. He’s been offered money before to lie to me and not only did he refuse, he killed the man who offered it to him. I give him big bonuses.”
Aodhan chuckles. “I guess being richer than God has its benefits.”
I shrug. “I haven’t found many downsides. I won’t ever feel bad about having the resources at my disposal to take over the Bay now the Jackal is gone.”
He shrugs and says, “So where is the warning photo? It’s not up here.”
I walk him to the small lounge chair I’ve fallen asleep on more times than I can count and grab the photo. I’d stashed it down here the moment I’d found it just in case the MBPD came back for some inane reason.
Illi frowns at the photo and I watch him carefully. “You know him?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, not by name but he was known on the streets as the Collector.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Typical Mounties, everyone has a stupid code name. Aodhan smothers a snort at me and Illi shoots him a look until he gets a good look at my face too.
“You can’t talk, Queenie, whispers are already starting on the streets about you. The Stag shouldn’t have paraded you around the party down at the docks if you didn’t want a name of your own. The Queen of Mounts Bay… has a ring to it.”
I finally just let my eyes roll with a huff. “Could you not have picked something a little more… classy? I don’t at all feel very queen-like.”
Aodhan chuckles again and crosses his arms. “I’m sure you could give any royal a run for their money in the manners department… and shoes.”
I refuse to preen under the assessment but I can’t deny that it’s nice to have someone notice the care and effort I put into my appearance. Life outside of the snake pit of Hannaford is actually pretty nice.
“Where was this photo taken, Queenie?” Illi says, his attention back on the photo and he’s frowning again.
I shrug. “It’s from the party. I’ve been digging into the political web of the Bay, preparing for the Game and everything that will come with… I assume I’ve pressed someone's buttons a little too hard and now they’re sending me threats.”
Illi places the photo on a blank section of the wall and sighs. “This is a very specific threat though. The Collector is dead. The Crow paid Lips a black diamond to kill him. It was the very first favor he ever gave out. I remember it so fucking clearly because D’Ardo almost busted a fucking nut over it. He was convinced the Crow was trying to make friends with her, amped up the assassination attempts and sent a whole lotta chaos his way.”
I frown and set forward. “Atticus paid her for his death? Who was he? What exactly did he collect?”
Illi shares a look with Aodhan that would infuriate me if it were anyone else. They’re trying to gauge how much exactly I can handle of this story and though I know it comes from a good place, it’s entirely misplaced.
“Girls. He collected women, or children, didn’t he? It’s some sick story of a perverted man isn’t it?”
Illi shrugs. “Sort of. He didn’t ever touch them or hurt them, he just… kept them. When Lips killed him, she set the girls in his penthouse free and none of them had been assaulted beyond the head wounds to get them into their cages. He fed them, gave them clothes and beds… but they were all kept in glass cages.”
I slowly sink down onto the lounge and prop my chin up on my fist with a sigh. The sexual perversions of men are disgusting but understandable to me. A childhood of growing up in the Beaumont Manor means I understand exactly what the darkest of sexual fantasies can be, but this? This isn’t something I understand. The power men wield has always tied into their sexual urges.
This absolute power with no sort of bodily harm is strange.
“Yep. Lips never could fucking understand it either.”
Aodhan sinks down in the seat next to mine and tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. This all feels so… normal. As if we’ve done this a thousand times before and I have, just not with these two men. But I trust them both, I trust them enough to be sitting here in my basement without the constant guard of my brother here with me.
Aodhan sighs and rolls his head on his shoulders to look at me. “It’s a threat. Clearly, it’s a threat to you but it’s also a threat to Lips. Whoever posted it there wants you to sweat over how much they know.”
Illi grunts and pulls out his phone, tapping away at the screen. “Well, we know that they’ve walked their ass up to the front fucking door so this place isn’t safe until we lock it the fuck down. Question is, why the fuck didn’t the Coyote catch this?”
He lifts the phone to his ear and then snarls into it, “You’re on my last fucking nerve, asshole, and I’m about to come call into your bunker for a little chat… yeah well, what the fuck happened to your security at Queenies place… no, I’m sure there’s been a breach, I’m staring at it… you have ten minutes, make them count.”
Aodhan snickers under his breath and I cast him a look. He shrugs, “It’s funny when the threats aren’t being aimed your way. You wanna come stay at mine, Queenie? It’s not as pretty as this place but you’ll be safe there.”
Illi huffs. “Like fuck. She’s coming back to my place. Odie will be fucking thrilled to have you, she’s been at me about putting together the nursery and I’m sure she’ll appreciate your taste a helluva lot more than mine.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Let me guess… you wanted a cleaver mobile for the crib? Blood spatter decals on the walls?”
He grins at me and shrugs. “Hearts in jars on every surface, just so the kid knows what Daddy does to anyone who comes after the family.”
I smile at him because how could I not? It’s too sweet how much he loves his wife and I know for sure that it doesn’t matter how high his body count is, that child is going to be loved more than any Mounty has been before.
Aodhan grimaces a little. “Please don’t say Daddy around me again until the baby is here, I think my soul just left my body.”
Illi roars with laughter and Aodhan looks a little sick.
I roll my eyes at them both. “I’ll pack a bag. Do me a favor and don’t tell the guys? I’ll call Lips and tell her but Ash will try to come home and I don’t want to cut his trip short.”
Illi shrugs and agrees easily enough, I guess he only really answers to Lips and even then,
she has never treated him as anything other than an equal. A beloved friend who’s in this fucked up life with her.
Aodhan traces a finger down the back of my hand idly, like the touch of my skin is helping him think and I’m not sure I can take all of this casual touching. I don’t want it to stop, but I need to know what the hell we’re doing.
Have I given up on Atticus?
Does Aodhan actually want me or is this some sort of… weird obligation thing, like he’s still feeling awful about the sex we’d been forced to have?
I don’t know.
I’m too scared of the answer to ask.
Chapter Ten
I refuse to spend more than a night at the Illium household.
Not because I don’t love seeing Odie, she really is a great friend to have and catching up with her now that she has the most perfect little bump is exciting, but I have no interest in being holed up and under a constant protective guard again so I arrange for even more security with the Coyote and once every inch of my property has sensors, cameras, and alarms I head home to redecorate and to plan out my outfit for the Gala.
I plan on making a statement.
The Morrison Family Charity Gala is held at the Alexandria Ballrooms in LA every year.
There’s only ever a hundred people invited with plus ones that are personally vetted by the Kora board. Now that I have more than half of them under my thumb it’s easier than breathing to get an invite for myself and Illi.
He could show up in his leather jacket and blood-spattered jeans if he wanted to.
That’s not the statement I want to make here though, I’m looking at kitting out my own black book and though I want the people in it obedient. I want them terrified of the right things.
Illi could murder them.
I’d ruin them, I’d take every last asset they owned and drag their names through the mud. I’d break them so completely and then I’d kill them.
But that’s for another day, for now they’ve all been loyal and obedient.
It takes me half a day to get ready for the event. It’s not just about throwing a dress on and a little makeup. It’s all about the prep work, there’s no point building a look on poor foundations.
I once tried to explain this to Lips and she stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
Someday I’ll make her do the full gala experience and I know for sure that there’ll be three idiot guys drooling all over my hard work. I shouldn’t think about that because it just makes me upset to think about how no one will appreciate the effort I’m going into tonight… well, no one will want to rip the dress off of me but at least I’ll have them all fearing for their lives.
I’m not sure which one I’d prefer.
I dress entirely in white, once again making sure that my allegiances are on display, though I’m not sure anyone attending would even know about the intricate color systems of the Mounts Bay Twelve.
Probably more than I’d think.
I choose a Galvan dress that is more sparkle than substance, the split up the thigh meaning that it’s going to be a no underwear sort of event, though the longer sleeves subdues the look to something classy enough for me to wear. I have nothing against showing a lot of skin, but half of the battle with high society is the image they all hold in their minds of you and I want them to be terrified, not gossiping about how much skin I have on show.
I choose a pair of Louboutins, my personal favorite designer and though the shoes aren’t comfortable the stiletto heel is sharp enough to slit a throat if I had to.
I straighten my hair and slick it back so it hangs around my shoulders in a dark curtain, my eyeliner is winged and my lips are my signature shade of blood red.
Illi lets himself in downstairs while I get ready but when I start down the staircase, I find Aodhan standing there with him.
Neither of them notices me when I first start down the stairs, a silk YSL clutch in one hand and the other holding the marble railing, but when Aodhan glances over his shoulder at me butterflies start up in my stomach.
I guess someone is enjoying the effort I’ve put in.
“Holy shit,” he mutters and Illi huffs at him.
“Wipe your chin, for fuck’s sake. I’ll call Ash to come kill you if you pop a tent in your pants right now. I’ll fucking do it, just for funsies because I don’t wanna see that shit.”
I level a savage glare at him but he grins and shrugs at me. “You look like you’re about to kill your husband for his oil fortune, Queenie.”
I grin and wave a hand in his direction. “That was the exact look I was going for so my job here is done. The suit is perfect, by the way. You should wear one more often, catch your enemies unaware.”
He huffs and kisses my cheek, a hand on my elbow in such a brotherly way that I feel a pang in my chest again for Ash and Harley and even Morrison with his mopey ways.
Aodhan finally finds his words. “You look fucking stunning, don’t listen to Illi. He’s blinded by his love for his wife, he can’t see just how fucking—“
“Did I not just say I’ll call the cavalry home? Keep running your mouth about her and you’ll be waking up in the morning to Ash gouging your fucking eyes out with his bare hands. I’ve seen him kill, you know? I’ve seen just how Beaumont he really is when you fuck with one of his girls and there’s a reason I trusted him with the Wolf’s safety while they prance across the country.”
I snort at Illi. “I thought you trusted Harley with her safety? He’ll be devastated to find out you replaced him.”
He shrugs. “That’s a given. Arbour is a Mounty, of course he can take a swing and shed a little blood. No way you can breathe the air down there and not be a little fucked up.”
I roll my eyes at him and then with a pointed look shoo him off so I can speak to Aodhan without his threats. He waits until Aodhan isn’t looking and then grins at me like this is all just one big joke to him.
Asshole.
“You really do look fucking beautiful, Queenie.”
The way his voice dips low makes me believe him too. “If I didn’t have the lipstick on I’d let you kiss me, O’Cronin, but I need to look my best. What are you doing here, anyway?”
He huffs out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. “Illi mentioned you guys were heading out and I thought it would be best if someone was here to keep an eye on the place while you’re gone, just in case they wanna drop off another clue. Now I’m fucking glad I saw you before you left… fuck me.”
He says it like a prayer but I lean up into his space and enjoy the way he stops breathing. “If you’re here when I get home… maybe.”
I smirk as I turn and walk away, enjoying the muttering he does under his breath and the way he clutches at his chest like I’ve stabbed him.
Again.
Illi helps me into the BMW and shuts the door behind me, ever the gentleman, and then he gets us onto the highway. I can wear a seatbelt without ruining my dress but when I mention this to him, he shrugs.
“I already told you you’re safe with me. Just sit there and enjoy the drive, we’re close to two hours away so maybe get a nap in, kid.”
There’s no way I can sleep with all of the planning and mind games and plotting happening in my head.
No rest for the wicked.
My phone buzzes with a text from Aodhan and the butterflies start a riot in my stomach.
I can’t wait to strip that dress off of you when you get back.
My thighs clench together and I have to remind myself that I’m not wearing underwear and the fabric is very thin. Probably not the best idea but too late to reconsider now.
My phone buzzes again and I find a message from Lips there.
Illi sent me a photo of the dress. Try not to run away with Atticus when he sees you in it.
I scoff at her but before I can reply she sends through a photo of her own. They’ve stopped into a bar in some little town on the road. Blaise has an arm around Finn and a grin on his face while Harley scowls
at them both with a beer at his lips.
Ash is staring into the camera and there’s no doubt that Lips is the one behind the camera. He doesn’t give anyone those soft eyes but her, the smirk on his face a loving thing rather than the one that he gives everyone else that drips with acid.
His hair has grown out a little, curling at his temples and, sitting at the bar in a pair of jeans and an old Vanth tee, he looks like a normal teenager. He looks happy and tired and in love and so at peace with everything and I’ve never been so fucking thankful to the little lost Mounty girl we tormented through freshman year.
The worst part about the gala is coming face-to-face with Blaine Morrison, the namesake of the Gala, standing in the center of the room talking about how fucking amazing his life is now that he’s once again a single man. It doesn’t matter that every last person here knows that he abandoned his oldest son, gave up custody of his infant son, and is in a bitter divorce with his wife after years of mental and financial abuse, every last person attending flock around him like he’s someone worth knowing.
Illi scoffs at the sight. “He’s on our kill list, right? Want me to do it tonight? Quick and easy, no more deadbeat daddy wasting good oxygen.”
I smirk at him and murmur back to him, “Lips has dibs on his death, she was very clear about what she has planned for him. We just need Blaise on board first.”
He huffs and holds out his arm for me to take as we walk towards the bar area. The socialites all stare at us with varying levels of fear and disgust. A few look at Illi like they’d be open to him bending them over a table somewhere out of sight which has him rolling his eyes.
I make note of them all.
Every detail counts in the games of war.
Illi orders us both drinks and then, as he sips at his whiskey, he murmurs, “So, who’s on our hit list? Please tell me I can kill someone tonight. There’s not enough… fear in this room.”
I sip delicately at my champagne and raise an eyebrow at him. “Dead socialites and businessmen are no help to me. I know it’s hard to put up with them all but I need some very specific skill sets.”