We step out of the car, the crunch of gravel under our shoes unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence. The front doors are massive, carved wood that swallows the light. Aria is waiting for us there, bedecked from head to toe in a black cloak, though her mask remains at her side.
“Ellie,” she says, her voice a silken caress that makes my skin crawl. “So good of you to join us. And you brought my other guests. How thoughtful.” Her icy eyes zero in on me, plunging to negative ten degrees, before she slowly rearranges the mask on her face, obscuring her elfin features from view.
My men stand behind me, a solid wall of muscle and simmering hate. I can feel their presence like a furnace at my back. I want to turn to them, to melt into their strength, but I know I can’t show weakness. Not here. Not in front of her.
We walk through the grand foyer, our footsteps echoing on the marble floor. The air is heavy with the scent of lilies and something else, something metallic and cloying. Blood. It’s always blood with her.
Panic speeds up my heart, but I tell myself that whatever Aria has planned, we’ll fight back. We’ll always fight back.
We won last time, didn’t we? We got Senator Reece out.
Even as I think that, I remember the people whodidn’tescape. Innocent men and women forced to play POP’s wicked game.
It’s nearly impossible to swallow around the spike in my throat.
We reach the entrance to the ballroom. The doors are thrown open, revealing a sea of masked figures, their laughter and music spilling out into the hall like poison.
I stop, my feet glued to the floor. “Wait,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
I turn, seeking out Beckett, Zane, and Dominic. I need their strength. I need?—
They’re not behind me anymore.
The air feels heavy, like the breath wants to be pulled directly from my lungs.
Where the fuck are they?
They were there a second ago. I know they were. When did we get separated?
Worst-case scenarios form like toxic chemicals in my head. My stomach moves in riotous swirls as fear skates up my spine and knots in my throat.
Where.
The.
Fuck.
Are.
They?
Aria is beside me in an instant, her hand clamping down on my shoulder. The force is unnecessary, a painful reminder of who’s in charge. Her perfectly manicured nails dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my dress.
For once, she’s not wearing gloves.
“You shouldn’t have betrayed me, Ellie,” she says, her mechanical voice dropping to a low, venomous purr that’s only for me. The warmth of her hand is a brand, a violation.
My blood runs cold. Horror floods my veins, sharp and suffocating.
Betrayed her? My mind races, frantically searching for a misstep, a word I shouldn’t have said, a look I gave away. I’ve done everything she asked. I was her dutiful daughter, even if I did talk back. I’m here.
Is this about Reece? She already punished me for helping him. She killed Doyle and Harvey.
Does she know about my conversation with Fischer? She shouldn’t be surprised by that. She had to have known I’m looking for her black book.
“What do you mean?” I choke out, my voice trembling, despite my best effort to keep it steady.
She doesn’t answer but instead gives my shoulder a final, bruising squeeze. She leans in close, her mechanical voice scraping at my skin.
