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We had security stationed outside her door, and when she tried to barrel up the stairs, she was lifted and deposited outside. She wouldn’t be Samantha Davenport if she didn’t make a scene. She screamed about her fiancée status and how she would have their heads once she informed her fiancés about their treatment of her.
Blistering text messages followed. All of which have gone unanswered.
“Explain to me again why you killed Blair Davenport?” Mr. Edgewood demands, forcing me to focus on the inquisition taking place.
I’d been asleep for maybe two hours before we were summoned by the Council. Once word of Blair’s death reached them, our presence was required.
I’m actually surprised it took as long as it did.
“She needed to pay. Blair Davenport was one of the many catalysts for the clusterfuck we’re in now,” Owen declares.
Mr. Edgewood levels Owen with an icy glare. “That wasn’t your fucking decision to make,” he growls, slamming his palms against the table.
Owen meets his gaze, and without any fear, he rebuts, “You’re welcome for cleaning up another one of this council’s many fuck ups. Fuck ups so monumental that the Novus Ordo Seclorum made a personal visit.”
The shades of red Wes’s father turns in the span of ten seconds has to be a world record. Mr. Edgewood works his jaw, the muscles flexing before he responds. “All the more reason to stop going off half-cocked. Edgewood—the Fraternitas are under immense scrutiny. Any more fuck ups, as you’ve so nicely mentioned, and this entire town, Ariah included, will be eliminated.”
“What the fuck do you mean, Ariah included?” I snap.
“I’m glad we finally have your attention,” Mr. Edgewood hisses before continuing. “The Novus Ordo Seclorum is unforgiving and unyielding. They rule with an iron fist and will wipe out anything and anyone that presents as a problem. They are the big bad in the world. Nothing happens without their approval.”
I stew on his words, remembering the warning levied when they visited.
Did we just make things worse?
“I see you’re registering the severity of the situation,” my father chimes. “You all need to tread carefully moving forward.”
“We need to get this back in order now. We can’t afford another visit before the Tribunal. Do you all understand what I’m saying?” Mr. Edgewood snarls.
One by one, we each agree.
“Good. Now, tell us what you learned from your meeting with Blair,” Wes’s father commands.
30
ARIAH
“Again,” Reign commands, and I strike the bag in rapid succession. Chop to the throat, elbow to the stomach, and fist to the groin.
We are in the final circuit of today’s training session, and I want to throat-chop Reign for making me do this at all. I’m hot and feel extra swollen today. My back hurts, and one of the babies has decided they should tap dance on my spine.
“I know where you sleep at night,” I warn, and he chuckles. “Sleep with one eye open.”
Reign’s laughter grows. “Come on, Ry, we’re almost done. If you were back in Colorado with your other trainer, you wouldn’t make a peep. Now, combos.”
Groaning, I shake out my legs, straighten my posture, and get into the neutral position, facing the punching bag. At Reign’s command, I shift into a fighting position. My wrapped hands are up, protecting my face as I slightly bend my knees, evenly dispersing my weight on the balls of my feet. I quickly move through my first and second sets. . . right hook, left hook, and front kick.
I’m drinking water during my rest period when Elias walks in. “We should test your training against a person. A bag doesn’t hit back, and there may come a time when you’ll have to defend yourself. An assailant won’t care that you’re pregnant. In fact, that will probably make them bolder.”
“Are you stepping in the ring then?” I challenge, pulling my curved daggers from their sheaths.
“Not if I actually want to keep my head,” he quips and glances over his shoulder as Thomas walks in.
Thomas’s massive frame eats up the doorway. “Means you’re smarter than you look, Prescott,” he quips.
I watch as he clears the threshold and enters the gym. I smile as he approaches. I’m so grateful to have him. I missed him, not because he’s back to protect me, but because he’s family. “It’s been too long, T,” I complain, sheathing my knives before hugging him.
A warm smile appears on his golden, tanned face. “I wasn’t gone that long, Ariah, and I’ve been back.”
