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“The Brothers will not know. No one will know, Cartier. Do you understand?”
I watch as she pulls out a long knife from the holster strapped around her thigh. Blood oath. My first Kiznitch blood oath. Fun times. “Until the transition, at least.”
“Transition to…” This is Midnight Mayhem, yes, but it’s feeling more like Kiznitch, and that terrifies me. Midnight Mayhem is filled with people who’ve to perform and would never do anything to jeopardize that. Kiznitch, although beautiful, is still filtered with desperation.
She smiles widely, showcasing the small indents of lines on her smooth skin. “Well, that will be all in good time.”
“Are there going to be tests?” I ask, shifting farther up my seat.
“No. That’s more Patience’s thing, not ours. The idea is to have you trained, prepped, and ready in three years. It could take longer or shorter, that will depend on you.”
“For what?” I try again, even though I know she’s feeding me answers that only leave me hungry for more.
Her blue eyes brighten. “Everything. Everything, Cartier. We will show you everything.” She stands from her chair and stubs her smoke out in the ashtray. “Come. I’ll show you around.”
I follow her command as she directs us down a dimly lit hallway. “Everything here is officially yours to do with as you please.” Two young men walk down the stairs as we pass, holding metal trays and dressed in ripped jeans and—well, nothing else. “And I really do mean… as you please. The people included.” She waves her hands, and the boys continue down the stairs with a smile. This is no surprise to me. Our lineage is fucked, and a lot of the women use men as toys. Can’t say I object much, since I’ve seen how The Brothers and Fathers treat women. I mean, The Brothers at least simmer down once they’re with their people, but The Fathers are a different story. There’s no such thing as monogamy in Kiznitch, and it has been that way for some time. Until, well, until I’m hoping our generation.
Delila continues to gesture toward each door. “Your office will be at the end of this hallway, but these doors here will lead you to your bedroom… and other things.”
I pause my steps. “Other things?”
When she notices I’m no longer following her, she turns to face me, tilting her head to the side, causing the sharp ends of her bob to graze against her shallow shoulder bone. “You know that there have always been The Four Fathers who ran things…” She slowly takes another step. “…and that was to be passed down to The Brothers when the time comes.”
“Yes…” Everyone knew what she was saying. “And?”
She raises a perfectly plucked brow. “Cartier, honey…”
“What?” I look to the side, then back at her.
“Things are changing. You will be coached, guided, trained, and primed to do what all four of them have had to do.”
I pale, cocking my head back. No fucking way. “No!” I gasp, shaking my head. “No way! I thought I was going to… I don’t know what.”
Delila’s face remains frozen. “It’s not that bad once you get used to it all.”
“Delila, I don’t think I should be the one who does all of that, and on top of literally all of that, I don’t know how I’m supposed to cover one Father, let alone do all of the things that all four of them have done, which by the way, what the fuck did they do?” I suck in a deep breath.
Delila chuckles lightly, singing while hooking her arm in mine. “Oh, honey. That’s why we have three years, and don’t worry… by the time we’ve finished with you, you’ll be more than ready.” Panic grips around my throat when I struggle to find my next words. She presses the wooden doors with her hands, and they sprawl open to a large room with windows for walls and a simple modern white desk in the middle, facing the entrance.
“This will be your office. Use it as you please. There are new bank details that need your signature on the desk. I know you’ve got access to your Nero trust account, but these accounts are yours for the work you do. It will get vastly bigger the longer you’re here. By the time you’re taking over in three years, you’ll be the first woman with a billion dollars behind her own name that doesn’t come from the family trust.” She leans on the desk, crossing her ankles. “Make no mistake, you will work for it. This job is not going to be easy. It’s going to be hard, challenging, and honestly—” She tilts her head to the side, her lips spreading flat. “A little questionable.”
“No.” I shake my head. She stops talking, and I bring my eyes to hers. “Don’t make it easy on me just because I’m young, or a woman.” I start walking around the room, finding myself near the inbuilt wooden fireplace that’s free-standing offset to the desk. Tracing the curves of the patterns in the plaster, I turn back to face her. “Train me in everything that The Brothers do.”
She smirks widely. “That’s our girl.” She gestures to the papers. “Sign all the boring shit, and when you’re ready to decorate, do so. I’ve left the interior designer details on your desk too. Use him. He’s great.” Delila kicks off the desk. “Today is an introduction. Tomorrow is when we will go through the first door.” My eyes find the doors down the hallway, when I realize there are three. One for each Father or Brother, I gather. With the office being the fourth. Shit.
“Yes, sweet one.” She slaps my cheek lightly, the wrinkles on the side of her eyes deepening. “You will need to be trained with each one.” I watch as she disappears down the hallway and find myself sitting on the plush chair, squeezing the leather arms. I don’t even know what each Brother does. Killian, the trickster and master manipulator. King, the boss—which I’m guessing is this office here. Keaton… death. Kyrin… more death, just the nerdy version—oh combat! In hindsight, it makes sense that I get this job, since all of them raised me. On top of that, I have to recruit. I think they misinterpreted my nickname the Ice Queen because even I don’t think I’ll be able to grow hard enough for that.
Fuck.
I have no one to talk to about this. Not even Nial—especially not Nial—everything has just taken a turn for the worse. Now I don’t want to tell anyone.
I pick up the pen that’s on my desk and start signing the papers Delila laid out without even looking. My mouth is dry and my stomach is grumbling by the time I sign the very last paper, collecting them and laying the stack tidily on the edge of the desk.
The blank computer screen stares back at me and I lean back in my chair, wondering if I’m allowed to turn it on.
I mean, surely…
A black screen lights up with a white space blinking. Weird. Okay.
