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Zade DeVil has always lived in black and white, but Oakley Quinn has gray written all over her.
I’m not going to lie, the little she-devil has a spark to her, something that has me wanting to know more. I’m curious to see what makes her break, just how far she can be pushed. Not even with Zade’s hand around her throat did she crumble.
She was fucking petrified, but she sure as shit didn’t break.
Making our way deeper through the old train tunnel, we find the door on the right, and Zade steps up toward it, slipping the old brass key into the lock. It looks just like every other maintenance door in here, only this one is different. So fucking different.
Zade turns the key and we all listen for the familiar sound of the intricate locking system within the wall. We have many entrances to our underground compound, but this has to be my favorite. Parking lots of high-rise buildings, church basements, there’s even one below the city prison, but this right here . . . this one was the first.
Empire is the most exclusive society this country has ever seen, home to those who boast power and wealth. Politicians, law enforcement, judges, and CEOs of multi-billion-dollar corporations. How else would we get things done? We’re a system, a partnership, and we have each other’s back.
Being a member of the most exclusive society gets you whatever you could possibly need. Want a college degree without the bullshit? Consider it done. Need to fake your own death? Easy. Accidentally put a bullet through your wife’s fuck boy? Not a problem, it’ll be dealt with before you’ve had your breakfast.
Empire is a well-oiled machine, everybody pitching in where needed, and because of that we’ve thrived for generations, each of us benefiting from a system that rewards power. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Walking through the old door, we each stop at the security checkpoint. I place my hand on the palm scanner while also leaning in toward the retinal scanner, watching as a blue light flashes behind it and scans my eyes. My face appears on the screen with my name and Empire member details. “Welcome Easton Cross,” the robotic voice says. “Please enjoy your stay.”
“Oh, I will,” I tell it, letting Venom slither in through my shirt sleeve and up over the back of my neck where she likes to stay. I don’t know what it is about these tunnels, but she doesn’t like them. She gets agitated down here and usually, I try not to bring her. But with the party at the apartment complex, there was no way in hell I was about to leave her behind.
Bringing my hand up, I brush my fingers over her body, letting her know she’s safe before sailing down the steps, sending me deeper underground.
Sawyer trails behind me, and as we hit the bottom of the narrow stairs, he reaches ahead to the gold-plated, wrought iron gate—the main entrance of Empire’s greatest compound. Sawyer unhooks the heavy chains before pushing another key through the lock and giving it a firm twist. He pushes the heavy gate open and we trail in as he holds it for us. Once inside, Sawyer pulls the gate shut and locks it again, our security one of our greatest assets.
There’s another set of stairs, and the further we get, the more at home I feel. We go farther down, deeper into the darkness, then finally, we push through a third door and Empire stares me in the face. A cloud of the most expensive Cuban cigar smoke hits me before I even get a glimpse of the rich mahogany bars that line the room.
Welcome to the most exclusive gentlemen’s club this world has to offer.
The country’s most powerful men linger around with cigars hanging from their fingers, boasting about their achievements as dancers grind on their laps. Every room I walk through tonight will look just like this.
The city of Faders Bay was built on the backs of the men of Empire after our compound was completed all those years ago. Faders Bay quickly became a home for our families, schools for our children, workplaces, hospitals, and stores, and has since grown into something incredible.
We make our way into the compound, my feet skimming the dark Italian marble, and with every step we take, I feel their curious stares fall toward us. It’s always a fucking party down here, always alive and thrumming with dancers and booze. But since Lawson DeVil, Zade’s father, was found dead in his home, there’s been a strange tension in the air. We’re in this mourning period, a transitional time for Empire, and it puts everyone on edge. There’s no telling what could happen. Everyone has always been curious about Zade. He was the leader’s only son, the heir who would one day reign, but now that curiosity is almost overwhelming. He has the attention of every last man in the room, whether he’s looking this way or not.
Everybody is wondering what will happen. Whether Zade is ready to lead our people and if he has what it takes. Just one sign of weakness will have the foundation of Empire crumbling. We may be a society built on blood and trust, but the kind of men we surround ourselves with can smell weakness. If Zade can’t fulfill the role left by his father, it’ll be a fucking blood bath.
They won’t stop until Empire is theirs, even if they have to burn it down to get it. That much was clear the second a hit was put out on Oakley, which is the very reason we’re here.
Someone betrayed Zade, and it starts with The Circle, our highest members. I suppose it somewhat works like a board of directors for a big company. They all think they hold the reins, when in fact, they’re nothing but glorified pencil pushers for Zade . . . or at least, they will be by the sixtieth moon. The Circle answers to the blood, and since Zade is the only remaining heir, the only living member with the blood of Empire pulsing through his veins, that makes him a big fucking deal around here. Which is exactly why we need to figure out who the fuck ordered that hit.
Sawyer’s father, Nikolai Thorne, steps out of a side room, his sharp gaze locked on his son. “Sawyer,” he demands, his tone low and full of authority.
Sawyer nods and takes off to meet his father, and I watch with a sharp eye. Down here within the walls of Empire, Nikolai is a straight-to-business kind of guy. He’s one of our twelve Circle members, and when the time comes for him to pass, Sawyer will take that position. Nikolai’s been training him his whole life, pushing him to be the best, and it’s paid off. Sawyer is more than ready to walk in his father’s shoes. Despite Sawyer having absolutely no interest in taking over the position from his father, that won’t stop him honoring the tradition and duties expected of him. It was what he was raised to do.
Me? Not so much. My father was a piece of shit, and the day he died was the best day of my life.
With Sawyer occupied, Zade looks at me. “Know what you’re doing?” he questions, flicking his gaze to Dalton, and despite being on different pages when it comes to Oakley, I know Dalton will always have his back.
I nod, my stare sweeping the room—a room full of suspects. “We’ll find this fucker,” I promise him. “The asshole was as good as dead the second he decided to step out against us.”
“Keep your eyes open,” Dalton says, reaching out and taking a glass of whiskey from the waitress getting around in nothing but black lingerie, fishnet stockings, and a pair of black heels that make her ass look good enough to bite. He lifts the glass to his lips and finishes every last drop in one swig. “Whoever this bastard is, he’ll be here tonight trying to cover his tracks. After his hit went south, he’ll be desperate and will eventually slip up.”
Zade nods, his sharp gaze out at the mingling crowd. “Good. Find this bastard and bring him to me,” he says, his tone chilling and cold. “In the meantime, I’m going to have a nice little chat with my Circle members.”
Chapter 14
OAKLEY
Myeyesarewideas I stare at Cara’s small TV, listening to all the sordid details about the DeAngelis brothers in the latest True Crime serial killer documentary. I hoist my blanket up, covering my mouth and nose while my eyes peek out over the top, unable to look away despite knowing the three psychopathic brothers are going to make frequent visits in my dreams, and it won’t be the good kind of dreams.
