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I’m not prepared. Why didn’t Liam and Gage prep me for this? How to answer. What I can reveal and what I can’t. Especially since I’m assuming this information came from Liam.
I tread lightly. “Which gift are you referring to? Ben was always generous.”
My father nods, his eyelids creasing at the corners—more pride, it seems. “Impressive, Celeste. You are every bit as unflappable as your mother and I raised you to be. That will serve you well now that you’ve … made your choice.” He pauses there for a beat, and the words whiz around in my head.
“You’ve made your choice.”
Makes sense that it would all boil down to that—a single choice. Although I don’t want to see this as an either-or scenario. No one needs to turn to salt here. Why can’t I choose Liam and Ivy and the rest of my newfound family and still choose the one I was born into?
His fingers do a giddyup waltz on his wood desk before he stands and rounds it. “Let’s not dance around this. I know what Ben left you. And I know what’s in it.” As he seats himself on the front of his desk, he raises his palm to keep me from jumping in. “Before I ask you anything, I’d like to explain myself.”
Wow, that’s … unexpected.
I trap my ragged breath inside, maintaining my composure even though this is all making me dizzy. “I’d like that.”
“Plausible deniability is important—remember that—so bear with me.” He searches for his words, probably because that plausible deniability means he’s going to speak in code. “Entering The Order is a prestigious affair. They are the best and brightest. You don’t receive an invitation until you’ve been accepted to graduate school—primarily business, law, or medical. Although there are other degrees sought after for various reasons.”
He pushes off his desk, suddenly antsy, and moves to his office bar, pouring us drinks—Johnnie Walker Blue for him instead of a Manhattan, which means he’s stressed. “As you know, much to your grandfather’s dismay, I chose business over law. It didn’t seem like a big deal because my brother was planning to pursue a career in politics after he retired from the military, which, of course, didn’t happen. But it enabled me to dabble in other interests. I’d heard about The Order and wanted in. I yearned to make my own way.”
I relate to that so much—wanting to make my own way. He careened onto his chosen path before his brother died though. I have no idea where I’d be if Ben were still here or if he’d died when I was older. Ivy’s fate wouldn’t have changed, so I would have still met Liam. And my heart shouts with every beat that even with the butterfly effect, he’d be my destiny.
My father passes me a glass of cabernet as he continues, “I had an interest in architecture and business, so when I went through the first round of initiation, I caught their eye with my aspirations of becoming a home developer. My autonomy ended that day. Once you’re in, your life is no longer your own. You do the job you’re given. No questions asked.” His eyes plant on me as he sips his scotch, lowering the glass with a straight-lipped frown. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so.” My chest tightens, but I cover my uneasiness with a sip of wine.
He had no choice but to become the mortician for The Order. Bury people or be the one who is six feet under.
Maybe that’s what Liam meant when he said Ivy knows how it works. None of us are free. Especially those below the sovereign five. That’s why my father views it as me choosing them over him—I’m at the top now. The hierarchy upends our power balance.
He’s in charge of the dirt.
My new family spins the world.
“Good,” he commends.
My cognizance of how everything is changing has me offering him assurance. “I’ve always guarded the gifts Ben gave me with the utmost care. This is no exception.”
He tilts his head, brows pinched. “You have it? All the gifts he gave you?”
“Yes. I can’t—”
He shakes his head briskly, imploring me not to finish as he cuts me off. “I understand. I trust you, Cee.”
Sometimes, we don’t realize what we need to hear until the words grace our ears. Maybe this isn’t the type of promotion Ben was talking about, but after years of feeling like the Carver family pawn, this—hearing that my father trusts me regarding his life and business and sordid underworld—feels an awful lot like becoming a damn queen.
I’m all dolled up, in a one-shoulder violet jumpsuit with my crystal-embellished Versace slingback pumps on. Adorned in diamonds. Picture-perfect smoky makeup. Hair half back in soft, flowy curls. My favorite buttery-cream wool peacoat draping my shoulders. Hands clasped elegantly in my lap, across from Rex in the back of a limo.
And having an absolute panic attack.
It started last night when I realized that Liam had deserted me without my phone. I was unhappy when Wells seized it before we left for Tennessee, but understood. I’d been kidnapped, and they’d just killed a warehouse full of scary thugs. It was a small concession to keep me hidden. But to leave me here without any way to contact them? What were they thinking?
I used Rex’s phone to call Ivy, but she didn’t answer. It was late by the time I’d thought about it, so maybe she was sleeping or with Felicity. Although it’s been nineteen hours, and still, no word.
Rex doesn’t know anything—or won’t share anything with me. He probably isn’t privy to the truth anyway, so I haven’t nagged him too much.
My parents are taking me to the opera. That’s why I’m wearing purple. My mother insists it’s my color. She’d prefer an evening gown, but this is the best I could do. The opera is something they’ve always enjoyed sharing with me. Apparently, immediately after Liam notified them that we were coming, they bought tickets for us to accompany them. A peace offering. So much for that. Since Liam disappeared abruptly, Rex is my plus-one.
For all the shit Liam and the guys gave me about safety, it seems contradictory to abandon me without any way to contact them. Anyone could take me and disappear. It happened right under their noses, but suddenly, it’s not an issue. What the hell?
