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Eventually.
Doubt still clouds his eyes as he studies us across the expanse of dark wood.
I cross my arms and lean against the wall beside the door. “Now, I know you have no reason to want to help, given that we stole her from you in the first place.”
His eyelid twitches.
I wave my hand. “Yes, I know, but she was there. We were there, and we wanted her.”
“You know how it is when you see a thing you want.” Cian shrugs.
Lawrence studies us for a long moment with a deeply furrowed brow. “It’s the alpha in us.”
I shrug. “Well, she ran, and since you’re trading omegas…”
Lawrence’s eyes narrow. “You’re up to something.”
Cian smiles. “Of course we are. We’re trying to get an omega. Clearly we came to the wrong Wentworth. Sloane was right. We should have gone to Byron. Let’s go.”
We turn to go.
“My father doesn’t hold all the power in the Asylum. He’s Chair, but he won’t be for much longer,” Lawrence calls out.
Pride.
Cian saw it and dragged it to the surface. Now we’re about to use it to hang as many Asylum members as we can before we hunt out the rest. And wewillhunt out the rest. Not only for what they did to Everleigh, but for what they’re doing to vulnerable omegas in the city.
Pack Ashe is ruthless in business and when it finds an enemy…
I smile.
“I’m sure your father will appreciate what we can do for the Asylum.” Cian sweeps his eyes over Lawrence’s office. It’s old. He must have inherited this mansion from a relative. Everleigh said Lawrence had to get permission from his father if he wanted to buy something expensive.
Does Lawrence even have any money of his own? Probably not.
“And we’re always eager for new business opportunities,” Rune says, spotting the weakness Cian has exposed and moving in for the kill.
“Sloane told us the auctions only happen on a Friday,” I say, handing Lawrence a rope for him to hang himself with it. “Surely, there’s a way for them to happen more regularly than that. Tomorrow night, perhaps?”
“The rules—”
I cut Lawrence off without compunction, pretending not to notice his frown in response. “What are rules to people like us? We’re not betas to fall in line or omegas to submit to them. Alphas make the rules… Well, at leastwedo.”
Lawrence’s lips tighten.
“The Asylum might appreciate a liquid cash injection.” Cian takes over. “Perhaps led by a Chair with fresh, bold ideas. Or do you intend to pick up where your father left off and do nothing to make your stamp on the club?”
“The Asylum is grounded in tradition.” Showing the first signs of agitation, Lawrence rises from his leather chair and crosses over to a corner drinks cabinet. We watch him help himself to the whiskey from a crystal decanter. He doesn’t think to offer us a drink, not that any of us would accept. “Everyone expects auctions on Fridays and trading midweek if you’ve received a dud omega.”
I envision stabbing Lawrence in the back of the neck. “Sloane suggested—”
Lawrence takes a gulp of whiskey. “Sloane is old and senile. Since he fell for one of the omegas he snatched up from a heat clinic, his brain turned to mush. He knows the rules just like everyone.” He snorts. “Father should have known not to touch Everleigh. She’s an overpriced whore.”
He drains the contents of his glass and reaches for the decanter.
I’m still smiling as his words arrow through me.
An overpriced whore.
