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No, that was Giana, the girl’s mother.
The bitch ran away; she deserves to have her tongue removed.
By the time I set foot in the cavernous foyer, my palms are sweating and the commotion crackles around me like wildfire. People outright stare and talk about me as if I can’t see the way they sneer down their noses. Others gawk at me with eyes bugging out of their heads, as if I’m some sort of celebrity idol in the flesh.
It’s a struggle to focus on anything in the dimly lit space, with glinting reflections of the ornate chandeliers and lanterns hanging from the walls whirling around me.
Like wisps of smoke, my three captors vanish into the crowd without so much as a backward glance. Leaving me stranded on unsteady legs amongst the sea of vultures.
They cut imposing figures by my side as I entered the mansion. Now that they’ve disappeared, I might as well be naked without them to shield against this glare of unwanted attention. Those pricks will be watching my every move for the rest of the evening to ensure I comply with their demands, but right now, they’re testing me. A trial whereby they’re throwing me in the deep end to sink or swim and won’t lift a finger to assist me until my lungs are heavy with water. If they decide to help at all.
So, I give in to the overwhelm and flee for just a moment, making a quick escape to the bathroom that I know is located behind the main foyer.
Pushing past the murmurs hidden behind glasses of champagne, I round the corner into the marble-clad alcove, and that’s when it hits me.
With astonishing clarity, I now understand why Thorne’s face seemed so familiar to me.
This is where I first saw him. Right here, in Noire House, at a party not too dissimilar to this one—a gathering of my father’s associates and other loyal Household members. At a time when a much younger seventeen-year-old me had attempted to hide within this very alcove, I encountered an equally younger Thorne.
He’d been an imposing sight even then, dressed entirely in black, and so fucking powerful it took my breath away. The difference in our ages felt so much more pronounced. Me, having barely passed my mid-teens, while he would likely have been in his late twenties. I don’t know exactly how much older he is, but at a guess, I’d say there are nearly ten years between us. At that moment, those piercing blue eyes had locked onto mine, and I’d found myself transfixed. Watching him fuck the face of some waiter knelt at his feet. Standing in the shadows with a hand gripped in the man’s hair and in total command of each deep thrust forward.
That night, I’d been desperate for an escape. Rushing to this secret space hidden beneath the grand staircase. Needing to evade the wandering hands and leering eyes of men more senior in age than my father, who wanted to purchase me and own me. The kind of men whom my own flesh and blood were hungrily entertaining offers from and threatening me with on a daily basis.
Thorne had studied me with painful clarity, choking the man in front of him with his cock. The picture of unaffected calm. Meanwhile, the naive teenage girl version of me had been utterly hypnotized by him. Unable to look away, even though I’d intruded on something so private.
“Either finish what he’s started or get the fuck out of here.”
I remember his growl. The way he taunted me.
After he’d tossed those words in my direction all those years ago, the spell had been broken. Turning tail, I fled. Running as far and fast as possible from such an alarmingly beautiful man.
His dismissive tone had stung like a bitch but also left me shaken up in a way I’d never experienced before.
Until the day he walked into my tattoo studio, that is.
But now, as I hover here alone in that same spot with the ghosts of that memory, I can’t help but wonder…does he remember me? Has he known I was that same girl this whole time?
God, who am I kidding? Of course, he wouldn’t recall such an insignificant moment.
With a shudder, I do my best to shake off the past and push through the door to the bathroom, trying to shove aside all memories of how my body responded to him back then.
I most definitely do not feel anything but pure hatred for him now.
11
There’s a power void swirling through the shadows of Noire House.
It hungers for a new mistress.
Thorne and his brother have been angling to take over for years now, and this little bitch is going to give them everything they’re owed. Everything they’ve suffered for until now.
I’ll proudly stand beside them as they continue to rid this world of the filth that has multiplied in this place. Fuck it, I’d gladly be the one to dispose of the corpses for them one by one. All they need to do is ask.
Being a Calliano in this world has been hell for both of them, yet they’ve risen through the ranks of the Anguis by stealth and pure determination.
Tonight, a glittering show of wealth from those very members of their secretive ranks is on display. I’ve taken up my vantage point overlooking the foyer on the floor below, while Ky and Thorne will be doing the same.
Our role within the Anguis is to provide elite-level security. We’re the ones these assholes entrust with their lives, and yet they have no idea we’re actually planning the downfall of Andreas Noire’s rotten empire.
