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Nicholas: Of course.
Matthias is the only one waiting for me when I exit the back of the hotel.
“Where’s Nicholas?” he asks.
“I gave him a special assignment.”
The corner of his lips twitches. “So he’s with your girl?”
The construction of the Elysium club took years. Xander led the project, pitching his concept, then following it through to completion.
The space is designed with revelry in mind. A complete loss of inhibitions. There’s fabric panels hanging from the ceiling, creating private areas that encourage guests to push the limits of their comfort zone.
Electric music fills the space, the underlying bass controlling their bodies.
Xander created a club where we’re gods controlling the pions’ every emotion.
Tobias, the security guard responsible for limiting access to the upper floors, gives me a nod and shifts out of the way of the spiral staircase leading up to our level.
I swipe my key fob at the door, and it swings open to our private area. There’s floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the chaos below, tinted to only see out.
Matthias comes in behind me. The noise from the club silences as the door shuts, and he sits in a deep green leather club chair facing our brothers.
Xander paces on the side, his expression void while he speaks on the phone.
Bash is laid out over the other club chair, one wrist over the arm while he leans all the way back. As the youngest, he has an almost sinister playfulness that’s become the bane of Matthias’s and my existence.
We’ve all but given up, switching to the strategy of reducing the fallout of his actions.
I pour a glass of whiskey, swirling it around my tumbler before sitting on the long leather sofa, facing the rest of them. “What’s the update?”
Matthias leans forward, a darkness taking over his face. “Someone’s taking out the Unsainted.”
The Unsainted are men who haven’t gone through their trials to be initiated as Saints yet. The Order of Saints has a clear hierarchy, and the Unsainted are at the bottom. That doesn’t mean we’re going to let people go around killing them.
As the Lords, controlling The Order is our responsibility, and someone’s fucking with it.
“How many?” I ask.
“Five,” Matthias answers, and the serious look on his face has my muscles straining.
Bash whistles under his breath and tips his head back. “Sounds like someone’s goading us into war.” His toothy sneer makes it clear he likes that idea.
Xander sits beside me, raking his hand through his hair. “Fuck that.”
Matthias agrees. “We watch for now. I’ve got eyes on all the Unsainted. If something happens to them, we’ll know.”
I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “Who is it?”
“Unknown. There’s no benefit to anyone to challenge our authority,” Matthias responds seriously.
I drum my fingers. “Set up guards, then we’ll use one as bait and see who bites.”
“That’s just cruel, brother,” Bash adds, not looking disappointed at all. He and Xander were just kids when everything went down. We’d hoped they were young enough to forget, but there’s a twisted side to Bash. One that shows glimpses of the damage it caused him. He’s not just an adrenaline junkie; he walks on the cusp of death every chance he gets.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out.
Nicholas: Miss Hart has been dropped off. Do you want me to stay here?
