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Guilt.
I saw it all in a heartbeat before he shut me out. The warmth I was used to, the humor and mischief, the joy—all of it gone. Nate opened his mouth like he was going to say something but stopped. Instead, he straightened his shoulders, tipped his chin, and crossed the room without even a glance back.
No.
My fingers shook, and I slid them under the table where I clenched them so hard my nails carved grooves into my palms. I didn’t care. Not then or when the skin went sticky with blood.
All I could do was watch and fight to keep my mask on so no one could see the horror I felt. Dominic and Greyson practically vibrated with rage behind me, the emotion so heavy I could feel the blister of anger against my skin.
This couldn’t be real. I wouldn’t survive it.
It has to be a mistake. Please let this be a mistake.
Deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
Every step Nate took was a knife to the heart as the man I loved dropped in pieces to the floor. It was like he transformed the farther away he got, his posture more arrogant, his steps more assured.
When he took his place at Cash’s shoulder—a mirror to where he’d stood behind me—I actually looked down, sure the useless fucking organ would be flailing on the table. I looked anywhere but at him because I couldn’t correlate the man who’d whispered I love yous last night with the one who stood at my enemy’s side.
Nate—my Nate—was a traitor.
A liar.
An Ace.
White noise was so loud in my ears, I could barely hear the words direct from Cash’s filthy, smirking mouth, but I did.
“Esteemed leaders of the city, I’d like you to meet Nathaniel Beckstrom. My little brother and heir to the Aces.”
•••
