AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I might think you’re a crazy bitch, but you’re my crazy bitch,” he growls. “Now get in the car before I change my mind and make you stay home.”
I’m grinning from ear to ear as I slide my ass into the leather seats. Noah and Eli help me inside, while Gabriel mixes me drinks in the limo’s bar. My three princes are dressed to the nines – Noah in his boxing robes, the Barbarian’s horned headdress covering his face and my fresh ink dripping blood down his arm. It’s hardly sanitary, but it will look good for people to see their favorite fighter wearing the August seal. Beside him, Eli leans back in the leather seat, sipping from a crystal whisky tumbler. He wears a grey suit that hugs his body in all the right places. His golden hair is slicked back from his face and his eyes glow with warmth.
And Gabriel… Gabriel is dark and moody and mysterious in a black pinstripe suit and patent leather creepers. His facial piercings glitter with new jewelry – he’s had them specially designed – gold skulls with blood-red rubies for eyes and crowns upon their heads.
I smooth down my new purple gown. This one is free of bloodstains… for now. George has twisted my hair back and secured it with tiny diamond clips from Ainsley Malloy’s jewelry case. On my head, I wear a gold tiara studded with more diamonds, and diamond jewels that look like icicles drip from my throat.
I look like a motherfucking queen.
George holds Madeline’s hand as she climbs up into the limo. My History teacher looks like a Hollywood starlet in a fifties-style emerald backless evening gown with a halterneck and fishtail skirt. Tiberius can’t take his eyes off her. I’m surprised he’s not drooling. George climbs in next, wearing an antique Victorian wedding dress she dyed crimson, the sleeves torn off and the hemline cut in ragged ribbons to reveal her favorite scuffed New Rock boots. George glances nervously between the gangsters, the horned Minataur, her teacher, and her best friend the mob queen, before gratefully accepting a cocktail from Gabe.
Antony sighs as he slides in beside me. He squints at me and reaches for the Scotch. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I know the organizations have swelled in number since Brutus and Nero started in business together. And the announcement of a new Imperator will always bring old faces out of the woodwork. But I’m not prepared for just how many people crowd into the Colosseum for the Saturnalia feast.
The last time we entered this club, we did so in disguise. Now, I strut over the disused railway tracks with my head held high. I’m flanked on all sides by my boys, Tiberius, and Antony’s handpicked bodyguards. The crowd moves aside for my entrance like I’m Moses parting the Red Sea, swallowing us into their throng as we press forward, desperate to catch a glimpse of me.
The whispers of my true identity precede me. It’s like walking through the halls of Stonehurst, only amplified a hundredfold.
Tiberius leads us up to the VIP area. I step toward the tables at the front, but he grabs my hand and points to a narrow, winding staircase. I climb up to a third level, parts of it built from old train cars welded into an impressive structure. Here there are three round tables set for a banquet, each with a centerpiece depicting the family crests.
The sword and laurel. The eagle. The she-wolf.
The three great families, together again.
From his seat beneath the eagle, Constantine nods at me, bringing his wine glass to his lips. I nod back, not able to manage any other greeting. I’m afraid I’ll lose my lunch.
I lower myself into my seat. I fancy I catch the scent of my father rising from the fabric – his distinct smoky cologne lingering in this spot where he commanded his legions, like a ghost general returning to the battlefield.
This is what he always wanted for me. This is the future Brutus tried to destroy, but the natural order of things has a way of righting itself.
The only problem is… I spent so long assuming I can never go back, that this destiny is no longer mine to claim. And now that I have the guys, my family has grown. I have more to protect.
More to lose.
The boys arrange themselves around the table. Tiberius pulls out Madeline’s chair and drapes her napkin over her lap. It’s sickening and beautiful.
“There’s no seat left for Antony.” I glare at Tiberius.
“He’s got a full lineup of entertainment to manage. He won’t get a chance to sit down tonight.”
That’s right, the entertainment. Eli has spent every spare hour this week preparing Nero’s animals and transporting them to the Colosseum for the spectacle. He hates it, but he knows we don’t yet have the power to change things for them. I peer over the railing, watching as the tables and grandstand seats fill up with people. The crowd is in high spirits – it’s already a free-for-all down there. Right beneath the platform, two men bend a woman over the table, ripping off her skirt. She slides red lips around one’s cock while the other buries himself deep inside her.
Across the table, Gabriel’s eyes sweep over my body. He’s moved by it too, the power of what goes on here. A ritual that draws out every craven desire, every wanton thought. This is the magic he conjures with his music.
Heat flares between my legs. I long to slide my fingers beneath that pinstripe suit. Save it for later, you animal. You need all your wits about you to survive tonight.
There’s clattering on the stairs. I turn as Nero and his entourage step onto the platform and take their seats at the third table. On Nero’s arm is a pretty blonde woman – pretty in that plastic way of certain older wives, as if she’s had so much Botox it’s changed the structure of her face. She glowers at me as Nero pushes in her chair, and I can’t help but notice how much her eyes look like her son’s.
So I guess she knows I’m the competition.
“Mom.” Eli’s hands ball into fists.
“Son.” She bristles, but plasters a smile that’s all teeth and loathing. She pats the chair beside her. “I’ve saved you a seat at our table.”
Eli stiffens, but he hides it well behind his golden smile. “No thanks. I’m happy where I am.”
“Elias Hart, you get over here right now. We’re not honestly going to sit here all night and pretend it’s okay that you’re dating the slut who’s trying to steal my fiancé—”
