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Gabriel slouches, a tall drink in his hand. He thinks no one’s noticed that he stopped drinking since he got back to Emerald Beach, that he’s been tossing alcohol into bushes and leaving it out of his own cocktails. He’s wrong – I always notice. But he’s drinking now, gulping back a tall glass of straight rum like his life depends on it.
It figures. When the going gets tough, Gabriel Fallen retreats into a fantasy world and bars the door behind him.
Beside me, Noah’s a coiled spring of rage. But I can feel the edges of it. This rage doesn’t belong to Noah – it’s on my behalf.
Noah rests his hand on my knee and squeezes his fingers – it hurts because the dude does not know his own strength anymore, but I know that squeeze is a promise. I held Noah together when he descended into hell four years ago. He’d take a bullet for me. I can’t count on much in my life, but I can count on that.
“Spit it out,” Noah rasps. “The truth. No more hiding behind your fake trauma. The agreement we had isn’t worth shit now.”
Not-Mackenzie’s mouth opens, shuts, opens again.
“Eli deserves the truth,” Noah snaps. “If you won’t give it to him, we’re going to the police.”
“I’d be careful with my threats if I were you,” Antony says, coming forward to stand beside Not-Mackenzie. He cracks his knuckles, and the amusement in his eyes is menacing. “This is not any ordinary Valley Girl you’re talking to. Gentlemen, meet Claudia August, prodigal daughter and rightful heir of the August crime family.”
Claudia
It’s almost worth this entire charade just to see their faces when Antony gives them my real name.
I always thought of Gabriel as a dark angel, but even angels have their limits. His eyes swim with a shock that reaches deep into his psyche. He clutches his glass like it’s the only thing stopping him from sinking into the floor. His mouth wobbles and tugs, and I’m not sure if he’s going to laugh or scream.
Noah Marlowe looks impressed. There’s shock in his coal-dark eyes, sure, but the corner of his mouth twitches that way it does, like he’s trying to smile but it’s been so long he’s forgotten how. I take that almost-smile as a grudging acknowledgment from a bitter rival that I’ve bested him.
Or maybe all I see is the residual lust burning off from our fuck in the panic room. Either way, Noah’s not my main concern here.
Eli… sweet, unshakeable Eli bends over and throws up on his shoes.
My own stomach twists as I wrestle with the pain I’ve caused him. I knew on some level the truth would break him. That’s why I tried to push him away. That’s why I fucked Noah in the panic room and why I lost my virginity to Gabriel – because I thought Gabriel wouldn’t give a shit what my real name is as long as I continue to intrigue him.
Judging from the way my favorite musician’s mouth twisted into a frown, I think I misjudged him.
I didn’t expect Eli discovering my secret to be such a punch in the gut. It’s almost as if I want to be Mackenzie Malloy so much – I want to pick up her perfect life where she left off and have the all-American boy with the too pretty smile love me with a fire that hasn’t dimmed in ten years.
And now he’s lost to me forever.
I stand up and pace the room, my boots clacking on the marble floor. I don’t want to speak my secret heart into the world like this. I don’t want to break the threads that connect me to these three princes, or give them the ammunition they need to destroy me. But they aren’t going to let me get away without an explanation. I can’t shove these skeletons back in the closet. Gabriel is a mess and Noah is out for blood and Eli… I can’t even look at him right now.
I don’t look at them as I speak. I can’t. If I have to witness the pain flooding Eli’s eyes or Gabriel’s broken wings unraveling, I’ll break myself. “Antony’s telling you the truth. My real name is Claudia August.”
My name is Claudia August.
It’s been so long since I used that name that it tastes foreign on my tongue. Like a character from a book that I used to enjoy but then grew out of.
Like an evil queen who burns her kingdom to ashes and dust.
“My name is Claudia August,” I say again, trying to get used to the sound of it. “I am heir to the August criminal empire. I grew up in Tartarus Oaks, on the other side of the city. My father is Julian August. You might’ve heard of him.”
Both Gabriel and Eli look blank, but Noah’s mouth does that twitch again. “Holy shit. Julian August was a big-time crime boss about a decade ago. I believe he used to be in charge of narcotics and human trafficking into the city.”
I wonder how Noah Marlowe – the senator’s son – knows about this, but it’s not my turn for asking questions. “That’s him. And he didn’t go in for skin of any sort – dead or alive. No prostitutes. No body parts. Our family empire is built on drugs and black-market antiquities. It wouldn’t surprise me if Daddy sourced the Roman coins and other artifacts that decorate Howard’s study—”
Antony glares at me. Zip it, Claws. I swallow again. I am still bound by the family oath, even though I never had anyone to spill secrets to… until now. All I wanted to do was make them understand, to find some way for words to dull the pain that I’ve inflicted. “All you need to know is that Julian August was a gentleman criminal, a terrible man and a great father. When I was twelve… I… I…”
I was buried alive.
I can’t form the words. The trauma holds them on my tongue, so when I swallow I taste the bitterness of graveyard dirt. The memory sits on my skin – my nails stinging from scratching at the wooden lid. I sit on my hands, clear my throat, and try again. “When I was twelve, I saw my parents betrayed and killed, and I knew they’d come for me next. So I ran away from home.”
Nothing. No reaction except for Noah crossing and uncrossing his boots on the table.
