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I’ve got nothing but my memory to go on.
The only question is how the hell am I supposed to get through the main door and the security checks within? Last time I needed a key, one that I certainly didn’t have, and yet somehow Nikolai knew I was here the whole time. Perhaps there are sensors or something along the tunnel, alerting Empire when people are approaching. I wouldn’t put it past them. It’s not the most fucked-up thing they have ever done. In fact, it’s kinda smart when you consider everything they have to protect.
Quickly hurrying down the long tunnel, it becomes startlingly clear just how out of shape I am. Not even the intense dicking I’ve been getting on the regular is enough to boost my cardio. Though, I’m sure it certainly helps. After all, I just made it halfway through the city and haven’t collapsed yet. But knowing my luck, I’m sure it’ll happen at the most inconvenient time.
My gaze remains locked on the tunnel walls, trying to find Empire’s secret door, and just when I think I’ve gone too far, I find it, just as imposing and intimidating as ever.
I swallow hard, nerves pulsing through my veins.
How the hell am I supposed to get inside and through security?
Shit. I think the bigger question is how much am I willing to risk to save my father?
Hoping like fuck I was right about the security sensors, I pound against the big door, and the echo of my fists makes my skin crawl. It’s pitch-black down here, almost impossible to see another foot in front of me. Anybody could be hiding in here and I’d never know. That thought alone has me pounding harder until finally, I hear that same little click of the lock I’d heard when Nikolai Thorne stood on the other side.
Fear pulses through my veins, and I take a hasty step back, my hands shaking with unease. I watch as the door pushes open and there, hidden within the darkness is a man I’ve never seen before. He’s older, maybe in his fifties, and he looks tired, almost as though he’d been woken and forced to watch while everyone else ran to the rescue after the explosion.
He looks at me, his gaze narrowed, clearly able to tell I don’t belong, but from the ripped gown, tears staining my face, and the cuts and bruises decorating my skin, it’s clear I’ve come directly from the ball. “Who are you?” he demands, not ready to shrug me off just yet.
“My name is Oakley Quinn. I am the granddaughter of Julius DeVil—the true blood heir of Empire,” I say, watching as his eyes widen, “and I know who’s responsible for the explosion at Cara Thorne’s initiation ball.”
The man gapes at me, not knowing what to say or even think, and I cross my hands over my chest, raising my chin and silently demanding respect. “What are you waiting for? Let me in. I need to speak with whoever is in charge. Zade DeVil is dead, and there’s no knowing just how many of The Circle are rotting in hell right beside him.”
“I, umm . . . Yes. Of course,” he says, nodding. “Right this way, Miss . . .?”
“Quinn,” I say firmly.
“Quinn,” he repeats, ushering me through the big door and pulling it closed behind me with a heavy bang. “That’s not a name I recognize.”
“No, it wouldn’t be,” I say. “Lawson DeVil went to great lengths to hide it as did his son, but I won’t be hidden a moment longer. Now, please, show me to whoever is in charge.”
He nods again, and seeing the suspicion in his eyes, it’s clear he thinks I’m full of shit. Like he said, my name is not one widely known around here, nor do I really want it to be, but this guy doesn’t need to know that. He only needs to know enough to entice him to open the door.
“Zade DeVil is dead, you say?” he questions as he steps into the wall and lowers his face toward the retinal scanner to unlock the security gate.
“That’s correct.”
“What a shame,” he mutters, stepping into the gate and opening it wide, the heavy clanging booming down the long tunnel ahead. “He would have made a great leader.”
An ache settles into the pit of my stomach as I force a smile across my face. The idea of Zade never getting to achieve his dreams and dying like that tears at my chest. God, I wish I could have been strong enough to give him what he wanted, but I’m not ready to give up yet. I’m too young to die for someone else’s dream. “I’m sure he would have.”
The man steps through the gate, his suspicious stare still heavily trained on mine. “Right this way,” he murmurs, ushering me through the gate.
