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I saw a woman who was going to take her life back, one step at a time. She was stronger than she was three years ago. She would not let fear of the past control her anymore. The girl staring back at me in the mirror was a new girl, and she was going to do whatever the hell she wanted from here on out… and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Once I was calmed, I pushed off the counter and walked to the door. I exited the restroom, entering the lobby. I didn’t really want to go back to the ballroom where everyone was, and that was when I remembered what Molly Palmer had said.

The heirs were upstairs. Had to be both the Black Hand heirs and the potential future heirs, because I didn’t see anyone near my age in that ballroom, other than Zander, and he didn’t count. The only problem with that was this building was giant. I didn’t know which floor they were on. I supposed it could be a process of elimination, but did I really feel like going floor to floor and crossing them off as I continued upward?

Hmm.

My feet took me to the elevators, and I was about to hit the up button when I saw the elevator on the left was coming down. Only a few floors up, I’d have to wait a few seconds for it to get here. Hell, even if it took me all night, even if I never found them, it was better than being in that ballroom with my father and those men.

The elevator door slid open, and a girl with a sleeve of tattoos walked out. Her blonde hair was long and straight, practically reaching her ass. She wore all black, and her makeup was done perfectly, brightening her already light blue eyes to the extreme. She wore leather pants and a tight black shirt, reminding me of the outfit I chose to wear when I went out at night.

She froze when she saw me, and then her lips curled into a smile. “You’re an heir, aren’t you?” She didn’t wait for me to reply; she went on, “I was just coming down to get some drinks. Help me.” She said nothing else, walking away, expecting me to follow just like that.

I watched her go, not knowing who she was. Judging from how confident and bossy she was, I’d say she was a Black Hand heir. There were only two women on the Hand, my father had told me. Piper Lipman and Shay Arrowwood.

Well, I guess there was only one thing to do, huh?

I trailed after her, and even though I didn’t want to return to the ballroom, I did just that. I stuck near the blond girl, listening as she ordered a bunch of drinks, telling them she’d need carriers for them. As the staff got to work, she turned to me, eyeing me up and down.

“Pretty dress,” she said. “White’s not really my color, though. I don’t think it’s anyone’s color here. Who are you, exactly?” She leaned her arm on the bar counter, a lot more at ease than anyone else here.

“Giselle Santos,” I said.

“Ah, Miguel’s daughter? I’ve heard some things about him, and about his daughter. You are not what I expected.” Her lips smiled again, although this time, I could tell the smile wasn’t as real. “I’m Piper Lipman.” And that would be why.

She was the one who was leaving the Hand, giving up her position. She’d lost her whole family, and now she wanted nothing to do with this life. Who could blame her? I was sure she’d never been the official heir; I was pretty sure I’d heard she’d had a brother, but now he was gone.

I felt for her, I did. I understood loss.

“We were missing an heir,” she said. “Everyone’s waiting to meet the final heir upstairs. It’s where the cool kids like to hang out while the boring ones do their thing down here.” Piper shrugged. “Although, I guess, Nix, Shay, and me should be down here anyway, but I don’t really care about all of this, you know?”

I didn’t know. Not really. I only knew they were Black Hand members with no heirs for themselves since they were so young. Still, I found myself nodding, agreeing with her.

As the bartenders got her the drinks she’d ordered, placing them in what looked like boxes for her to take upstairs—mostly bottles of beer, from what I saw—Zander walked up to me, an irritated look on his face. He didn’t even realize I wasn’t standing there alone, his eyes fully focused on me as he said, “You shouldn’t go running off, especially here.”

“Your boyfriend’s right,” Piper chimed in. “You can’t trust anyone around here. The sooner you learn that, the better off you’ll be.” She flicked a hand out to the ballroom, at everyone currently in it. “They might be all smiles and manners now, but when their backs are turned to each other, the claws come out.” She then realized she hadn’t been introduced to Zander, for she cocked her head and added, “Who are you?”

“Zander. I—”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I muttered under my breath the same moment Zander told her, “I work for Miguel.” That was one way of putting it, I guess. Couldn’t have Piper telling the rest of the heirs and the younger Black Hand members that my father thought I needed a bodyguard in this city. I’d be the laughingstock of the whole place.

Piper glanced between us, a strange expression on her face. “Right. Okay. So, just for future reference, he’s not your boyfriend. Is there one? A boyfriend, I mean? Or maybe a girlfriend?”

I shook my head. As if I could have a boyfriend. For one, it wasn’t like I wanted one. Secondly, my father would only let me date someone if he thought he could get something out of the deal. It wasn’t like I had experience in that department—not where it counted, anyway.

And as for a girlfriend? I didn’t swing that way.

She shrugged. “Eh, had to ask.” The bartenders finished with her drink order, and she took the first box, handing it to Zander. “Here. Be the muscle, will you?” She stacked a second box on top; they were small enough boxes, so even with two in Zander’s arms, he could still see over them. She took the third.

I wasn’t going to complain; it saved me from having to carry one.

Piper said not another word as she walked out of the ballroom, and Zander and I shared a look. “Uh,” he said, “I guess we should follow her?” Together, we hurried after her—but not before I tossed a quick glimpse at the crowd of people chitchatting in the center of the ballroom.

Rocco Moretti stood with my father, talking and laughing. My father wasn’t a funny man; he didn’t make jokes. And Rocco? Don’t even get me started on that man.

I pulled myself away from the ballroom, walking with Zander as we caught up to Piper. We followed her to the elevators, and she punched the up button with her elbow. The elevator was there, waiting, so the door opened right away, and we stepped inside.

The inside of the elevator was just as fancy as the rest of the place was, though a few fingerprints marred the shiny golden interior. Piper gestured to the panel with the buttons, saying, “Would you hit the top one?”

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