AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Hawke is here somewhere, too, but he’ll be keeping a low profile. He and his partners are in charge of the other face of Noire House. A side reserved for hedonism and excesses and catering to all manner of sexual appetites that could ever desire to be fulfilled.
When required, on nights like tonight, the mansion is open to only a select few when it is all glamor and displays of power for the members of Anguis. At other times, these very same people return and use it as the den of iniquity it has become notorious for.
Noire House is a sex club frequented by only the most exclusive and wealthy of Port Macabre. Where tastes run wild, and discretion is paid for in multimillions at a time.
But there is a hidden level to this place. One that is drenched in the blood of innocent lives. That is the legacy of Foxglove Noire’s father, and the trafficking rings he coordinated while the rich and wealthy of Port Macabre turned a blind eye upstairs. That is the underbelly that we are here to tear apart piece by piece from the inside.
My own motives are personal. Emotional. I have my sister’s life to seek bloody retribution for.
Ky’s reasons are murkier. They come mostly out of loyalty to the Callianos. And to me, I suppose, after everything we have been through together.
Thorne…well, his motivation to destroy Noire House and take control comes from somewhere even darker. Born of a hatred for everything he and his brother were sold into. He keeps his cards close to his chest, even from the two of us. But I know abuse when I see it.
Both of the Calliano brothers have suffered at the hands of the Noire Household.
From my vantage point on the upper landing, I watch her lilac hair swept up on top of her head re-emerge from beneath the gilded staircase. Loose curls fall down either side of her face. In amongst the sea of blonde and brown and black hair, she sticks out from a mile away. Not to mention the way her tattooed skin is in stark contrast to the endless suit jackets and designer gowns.
The others have taken up their positions, and now we get to enjoy the spectacle. The girl has no idea what tonight is about or why all these people are here. Little does she know it is all for her.
Her fucking funeral.
She’s being surrounded now. There’s a throng of seedy, old men grabbing her by the shoulders, all looking her up and down like she’s their meal ticket to greater power. The ones most loyal to Andreas, and likely entrenched in his foul schemes.
Of course, amongst this glittering show of wealth, there are Household members of similar age to Foxglove Noire herself. Noire House and the Anguis have collected loyal followers through bloodlines, through initiations, and in our case…through being bought.
This isn’t just a room filled with balding men, far from it. However the lure of Andreas Noire’s heir arriving back among their fold tonight is attracting the most hungry, while other House members are content to sit back and watch the spectacle unfold.
Each of those swarming close pretends to offer a hug, pressing against her ear to no doubt share their sympathies for the death of her father. But I see their true intention with every hand that wanders a little too low on her back and embrace that lingers a fraction longer than necessary.
They all think they can collect her. Add her to their roster of women and men. That’s the thing about this world we all inhabit and the way we choose to live our lives. The Anguis expect devotion to only the Household each person serves. Not to any particular individual. Arrangements and contracts and alliances form the foundation of any bed of power.
Empires don’t succeed by following the fickle wants of the heart or lust racing through heated blood.
This world is no different. Power is the ultimate goal of the Anguis and its members.
Many of us defy convention with our partnerships. Whether that is a result of nature, or nurture, who fucking knows. But we all live by a code that ensures we don’t rely on one single person or conform to monogamous expectations. Not only is it dangerous to do so, but in a life such as ours, placing the burden of trust on one single partner would be insanity at best.
It is rumored that the foundations of the Anguis were built by encouraging multiple partnerships to foster power. To spread allegiances and maintain control. But there are too many in this modern iteration of the Households who use polyamory as an excuse to abuse others. Too many men and women in the Anguis have taken the notion of not committing themselves to one person, and twisted and distorted it until the very concept is rotten to the core.
My eyes narrow on one particular man who hangs off to the side, with slicked-back, graying hair and a thin mustache. He hasn’t touched her, but his beady gaze is intensely fixed on her curves. There’s no mistaking his interest in what he sees as prime meat on offer this evening.
I know exactly who he is. Massimo Ilone. One of her father’s right-hand men, and key player in the trafficking rings they controlled together. He’s already marked for death in my eyes. It's only a matter of time until I drain the life from his corpse and toss the bastard into a pit.
There’s a tall blonde woman whose name escapes me, but she has her by the shoulders now. Touching her face and talking like they’re old friends. With every interaction like this, the girl is turning as pale as the moon hanging in the night sky.
She thought it was possible to escape this world?
Well, here she is right back at the sick and twisted heart of it. All these people gathered here tonight have been informed of her intention to step into her father’s shoes…and the upcoming ceremony.
Everyone except her, that is.
Another associate of her father, a man with a large gut and reddened nose, clinks his glass to draw the attention of the crowd. A hush descends around the room as everyone eagerly awaits the announcement coming any second now.
Thorne has orchestrated this all to perfection. Using every powerful connection and blood-stained debt he’s been able to accrue over the years, all leading to this moment.
“Welcome, our Gathered.” The man bellows. “Tonight, we are here to celebrate the return of the Noire House heir to her rightful place among us.”
There are cheers and glasses raised as the room’s energy whips into a frenzy of anticipation. I watch the girl’s shoulders shrink in on herself. She’s glancing anywhere but at the sets of eyes all fixed on her. The tall blonde woman has her clutched to her side with fingers like talons, red nails indenting her tattooed shoulder.
