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“He’s a bastard.” She falls silent, distant again and sets the barely nibbled on cake aside.

“Colette?”

She just shakes her head like she can’t speak just yet.

“He was there when my…when I had the virginity test.” I manage the words, feeling my face flush.

Colette’s mouth tightens into a thin line. “Santiago made you—”

I shake my head. “He didn’t know. It was my brother. My half brother.”

“Abel.”

“You know him?”

“Not personally,” she says, but from her tone I know she doesn’t like what she does know and I wonder if Holton’s visit is somehow tied to Abel.

“Santiago wouldn’t have made me do that,” I say with the knowledge that it’s true. Even then he wouldn’t have submitted me to that humiliation. “But Holton stood as witness and I still shudder when I think of his eyes on me. His hand when he—”

“God, Ivy.” Her hand is covering her mouth, her eyes wide.

I shake my head. “What did he do to you? Why do you hate him?”

“You can’t tell anyone. If The Society finds out…” she trails off.

“I won’t. I promise. Tell me what it is.”

“Jackson’s uncle, one he never even really knew, it turns out he was involved in some pretty bad things. He and Jackson’s father never were on good enough terms for Jackson to even know much about him. It just makes no sense.”

I wait as she gazes down at Ben, rocking him a little as he sleeps again, his tiny mouth barely hanging on to her nipple.

“I think he’s scared,” she says, and looks up at me. “Jackson I mean. I think he’s scared they won’t believe him. That he’ll be guilty by association.”

“Guilty of what?”

Again, she’s quiet for a very long time and when she turns back to me, she looks like she’s going to be sick. “You know about the gas leak a few years ago?”

I feel the blood drain from my face and Colette’s eyes fill up with tears.

“The one that killed Santiago’s father and brother. The one that burnt him so badly,” she continues but she doesn’t have to. I know.

“I know The Tribunal has been investigating. Even though they said it was a leak. An accident. They’ve been investigating for years. And Jackson, as an advisor to The Councilors he’s been privy to all those meetings.” She breaks off altogether unable to speak for a moment. “It needs to come from Jackson, you know?” she asks, her voice strange.

“What does?”

I see how her hand is trembling when she brushes a finger gently down Ben’s cheek again. “Holton is blackmailing him.”

“Blackmailing?”

“Threatening him.”

“For what? With what?”

“Jackson’s uncle was one of the men who funded it.”

“Funded it?”

“It wasn’t a leak, Ivy. It was planned. It was murder.” She breaks down entirely on that last word. “I told him he needs to go to them. They’ll listen to him. They know him. But if Holton goes through with his threat,” she stops, shakes her head. “I don’t know what they’ll do, who they’ll believe. Jackson had nothing to do with it. He only found out about his uncle’s involvement when Holton came to him with evidence.” She looks at me, sniffles back her tears. “Evidence he claims your brother gave him.”

18

Santiago

"It's been too long," I growl. "Something should have shaken out by now."

Marco watches me quietly as I toss the stack of files onto my desk. More crap that Eli has sent over. Some of the evidence Abel gathered on the excommunicated members. I'm beginning to feel like he's sending me on a wild goose chase.

"He's only giving me this to distract me from finding his son," I mutter.

Marco scratches at his chin. "Possibly."

When I meet his gaze, I can tell he wants to say more.

"Just tell me." I gesture at him. "You won't offend my delicate sensibilities by being honest."

"I understand you are in a difficult position," he offers carefully. "Being that Eli is your father-in-law. But if you feel like he’s fucking around with you—”

"Why don't I just torture it out of him?" I shake my head, disgusted with myself.

"Yes." He jerks his chin. "You could keep your wife away until he healed. She wouldn't ever have to know. Eli won't tell her if you don't let him."

But I would know.

And that's the fucking problem.

I collapse into my seat and reach for the bottle of scotch, which seems to be the only answer to my current problems.

"There are only so many sewers a rat can hide in," I say.

"In one city," Marco agrees.

He's right. Abel could be anywhere. And Eli isn't offering up any ideas. My men have searched every inch of this city and turned up nothing. He seems to have disappeared. And he isn't the only one. The Society is known for having a vast reach, but even they haven't been able to track down everyone involved in this scheme who's turned up MIA.

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