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I then asked something that most would probably consider too intimate: “Did your parents love you?”

“Did my…” She chuckled, though it was a bitter sound. “We were a family of assassins. I still don’t know if people like that are capable of love. I loved my brother. I loved him more than the whole world. But my parents… I think I only loved them out of obligation, and now that I’m old enough to look at it objectively, I think they felt the same about me. Why all the questions, Giselle?”

“Nothing,” I said, and I knew I said it too quickly. “If my father didn’t have an heir, he’d be out of the running for the Hand, right?”

Something in her eyes sparkled at the question. “Right.”

“Can I ask you something? Something about the Hand.”

“Maybe,” she said.

“What exactly are you guys looking for in your new member?” I realized how this could sound to Shay, like I was digging around for my father, so I felt compelled to say, “I just… I don’t think my father would be a good fit for the organization.”

That made her speechless, if only for a moment. “Most heirs would die on the hill that their parents should be on the Hand. I don’t know of any that don’t believe in their own parents. Why don’t you think Miguel would be a good fit?”

“I heard what happened with the Cobra.” When I brought up the Cobra, Shay’s demeanor changed. She stiffened, and her full lips curled into a slight frown. “It’s the whole reason Piper wants to leave. This place, you guys… you remind her of what she lost.” It was a feeling I understood all too well; it’s why I’d tried to get rid of Father Charlie’s cross. “I assume you don’t want someone else like the Cobra on the Hand again.”

Shay narrowed her gaze at me. “And you think your father’s like the Cobra?”

“I never met the Cobra, so I can’t say for sure, but he might be worse. He doesn’t hide behind a mask. He will smile at you, charm you, say whatever it is you want to hear, all while planning on how to get rid of you. He doesn’t work well with others. If you, or Atticus, or anyone else on the Hand ever depended on him, he would only disappoint.”

The more I talked shit about my father, the more I wondered if this would get back to me, if Shay would tell Atticus this and Atticus would in turn tell my father. I should be more careful talking shit, but God, I was so fucking tired of these games.

I could tell Shay didn’t know whether to take me seriously or not. She was slow to say, “I’ll keep that in mind.” She shook her head once. “You are definitely something else. By the way, how do I know I can trust you? After you tried going after Nix, I’m finding it a little hard to believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”

Fair enough. “I don’t want any of your boyfriends. It wasn’t my idea. I told you my father is always scheming—he will do anything he can to get on the Hand.”

“Even if it means putting his only daughter in the crosshairs by telling her to go after a taken man?” To say Shay sounded miffed at past me’s indiscretions would be an understatement. She sounded like she wanted to throw down with me again, right here, right now.

“You said your parents were assassins. Mine is a megalomaniac. He’s shown time and time again that he doesn't care about me or what happens to me.” I breathed in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before letting it all out in a prolonged exhale. “I just thought you should know exactly who you’re interviewing for the Hand. That’s all.”

Shay once again folded her arms over her chest, sizing me up. “I can’t tell what game you’re playing at.”

“It’s no game.”

“Okay, if you say so.” She pushed off the counter. “We should get back to the party. It is for you, after all. Don’t want a crowd out there, looking for you.” Shay sauntered over to the door and left without looking back.

I watched her go, an uneasy feeling rising in my gut. I wasn’t sure how that talk had landed with Shay; she was hard to read, honestly. Would she tell Atticus everything I’d said? And, more importantly, would it get back to my father? At this point, I didn’t think I cared.

I lingered in the restroom for a few more minutes, trying to calm myself after that chat. By the time I pushed out, I was as good as I’d get. I passed Shay on the dancefloor; she was with Piper, talking and laughing, looking like she was having a good time. They were surrounded by her guys, who were each trying to bust a move—but also failing. Just because they were handsome men did not mean they knew how to dance, apparently.

Moving past the dancefloor, I spotted Zander still near the bar. He wasn’t drinking, but he was talking to Luca. Didn’t look too happy while talking to him, but then again, that was also his expression when speaking with anyone who wasn’t me.

As much as I wanted to know what they were talking about, I didn’t want to go up to them and interject. I was still kind of fighting the waves of emotion I got when I thought about Luca and how close he’d been to me, how I didn’t hate it… how I kind of liked it.

So, instead of wandering up to them, I went back up the stairs to the second floor of the club. Cade was still in the corner, nursing whatever drink he had, looking quite miserable.

I felt that. Also, if he was that miserable, why stay here? Just go home. I kind of wished I could leave right now, frankly.

I hugged the balcony railing, the metal cool beneath my gloves, staring out at the club. I saw Shay and her men below. Piper had moved so her guys could sandwich her, and they took turns grinding up against her front and her back. If they didn’t have clothes on, I didn’t doubt that would turn into an orgy—almost like I was at the Playground.

Piper had wandered over to a few of the other would-be heirs who were dancing, grabbed one by the collar and started shaking her ass for him. Even though he must’ve only been sixteen or seventeen, she didn’t seem to care.

Everyone downstairs, save for Zander who currently looked like he wanted to punch Luca, looked as if they were having fun. This party was on my account, but that was just an excuse for most of them to get out of the house, get away from their parents and their responsibilities, and let loose. I understood the sentiment behind it. If I was them, I’d do the same thing. The only one who really was here for me, ironically, was Luca.

And Zander, but he was everywhere for me.

I heaved a sigh, leaning on the railing. I bent my head down, wishing everything was easier. It was my life; hence it would never be easy. I should’ve known that—

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