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I always had a good sixth sense when it came to whether people liked me or not. Most fell on the latter, and I brandished the fact as if it were a superpower.
My father always said fear is a weakness. If you garner it in people, you hold the power. Fear gets you what you want. Fear reaps rewards.
You only get fear from people who dislike you.
Tobias is trying hard to remain level-headed. I can see from the way he scowls. He’s trying to outsmart me because he’s scared he’ll look the absolute fool if I beat him.
“Think you can survive hell, princess?”
“Already here, sweetheart.” I meet his gaze and twist a little more sweetness into my smile. “Now, why don’t you go back to the point of this meeting? I’m nothing more than an onlooker to whatever you’ve cooked up with Mr. Knight. And looking at the sour look on his face, you’re wasting his time, not mine.”
“And if I’m not done with you yet?”
I grin viciously. “I think you are.”
My easy attitude and blasé tone do little to calm or deter him. He remains in front of me, watching me like I’ll suddenly realise he’s something special and drop at his feet.
It’s even funnier watching as questions poise on his lips.
“How do you think this is really going to end?” he asks, tilting his head. “The likes of the Knights will only use you as their scapegoat.”
“Oh?” I gasp, a hand coming to my chest. “Little ol’ me?”
I let my face fall, my eyes dropping as I soften my glare. I whimper, and a sob unravels from my throat as despair filters out of my body.
“I was brainwashed, your honour. I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m a victim in this. My father used me all my life, and Beckett Knight? Well, you see, your honour, he took complete advantage of my grief and upbringing.”
Tobias stares at me for a second before he starts to chuckle, his laughter ringing out, reverberating off the metal shell of the warehouse.
“You’re a fucking psychopath.”
“Why thank you!” I accept his comment and then resort to my previous serious manner. “Now, go back to the point of this meeting. I am the least of your concerns.”
He doesn’t move. “They always warned us about you.”
“Couldn’t have been all bad because here you are, honey. Still entertaining me.”
“I’ve wanted for years to wipe that smug little look off your face. Now feels as good a time as any.”
“Tobias.” Beckett’s voice bounces around the warehouse, fired by agitation.
“Scurry along now,” I lightly order him.
But he doesn’t move. Not yet, anyway.
“You stay in London too long; you’ll know exactly what pain feels like.” He watches, waiting for my reaction.
“Bring it on.” He goes to speak, but I hold a hand up, stopping him before he can say anything. “But wait! Isn’t it me who’s going to destroy it all? Sorry to paraphrase, but you muttered that so I’m going with what I heard. So, under that assumption, Tobias, people will feelmypain. You included.”
“You and what army?” he mocks. “Because from his reaction, you aren’t here with The Company like you’re supposed to be, are you?”
“Rather that than in your position. What percentage is the cut this time, and can I get a gram or two?”
Beckett didn’t need to tell me anything. I knew about the O’Connor’s unsavoury hand in getting cocaine out onto the streets of London.
“I know your father liked to cut his coke with the shady stuff. I’d like to see if it’s true what they say… like father like son. After all, the apple never falls far from the tree, does it?”
“What did you just say?”
