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“I don’t want to hear any of it. As far as we’re concerned, this matter is settled. Make sure tonight runs smoothly and keep your mouth shut.” Stefan flicks both buttons of his jacket closed and snaps his fingers. “Tia! Get in here.”
I swallow over a groan. “Don’t bring her—”
Once Stefan has his fiancée around, all conversation halts. Period.
I shift around to cut off his exit before he has a chance to blow me off. “Stefan, I’m serious. We were supposed to stop.”
“And I’m telling you to trust me,” he replies, his gaze hardening. “If you have a problem with the way I run things, then shut the fuck up and fall in line. I don’t give a shit about any moral qualms. Tonight has to be perfect. Put your focus where it actually matters. Tia! Get your goddamn ass in here before I beat it off you.”
He barks out her name like the woman is no more than a dog. The door opens half a heartbeat later, and Tia enters with her head already ducked low in subservience. A massive diamond glitters on her left hand, displayed to perfection by the dark velvet of her long-sleeved gown. The dress is cut low enough to show only a glimpse of the purple bruises marring her pale skin.
Shaken, bruised as usual, even with her brown locks perfectly curled around her heart shaped face—she used to be absolutely lovely. Radiant. Now, she’s subservient.
“You need me, my love?” she asks in a soft voice.
Stefan holds out his hand for her to take and wrenches her to his side, forcing her to swallow her pained gasp when he presses his mouth against hers.
“Just do your fucking job, Marco,” he says as he pulls away from her. “You have one purpose tonight: to make sure all goes well.”
That’s the end of our conversation, the end of any sort of opening I’ll ever get to have about the decisions he’s made without me.
He stalks off down the hall, dragging Tia along with him, heading to the conference center, no doubt, or wherever the fuck he wants to go before the auction while he shoves the bulk of his responsibilities off on me. I should walk with a hunch. I’m practically shouldering the bulk of running the Syndicate by myself, my brother too lost in his own head and darkness to be bothered.
Except this threw me for a loop.
After a few heartbeats along in the office, I finally head out and take the steps two at a time.
The office building we’ve claimed as our headquarters is half a block from the massive convention center we rented out for the holiday party and charity auction. The wealthy elite of the city are invited, as well as a few fucking guests connected toournew business venture.
I grit my teeth against the wave of cold smacking me in the face the moment I push outside. Great gusts of icy wind creep inside my jacket, wrapping around my ankles and gnawing at any hint of exposed skin. I hurry my stride, head down, working to keep myself under control.
Goddamn Stefan. He knows I’ve had reservations about drugs since we started. It was my hard line, the one thing I told him I was unwilling to do.
Still, his latest surprise is fuel for the fire inside me, the one I’ve been doing my best to ignore, because once the fire lights for real, there will be no stopping me. I’ll be done trying to patch things up between us, done trying to make this work when his darkness grows alongside my conscience.
I head in through the back entrance, taking a second to warm myself before striding into the main section of the party space.
The massive interior has been transformed into a winter wonderland. A few guests already mingle before the bulk of the festivities start while the caterers move on silent feet, carrying trays of appetizers and bottles of wine and expensive liquor, finishing their setup.
An hour passes, an hour of me smoldering and grinding my jaw, muscles tensed beneath the facade of normalcy. The food is fucking perfect, and there, in the center of the crowd, my brother and Tia hold court, laughing at some joke one of his simpering courtiers made. No one seems to realize the sound is as fake as his white smile.
No one holds my interest, and although I’m on the lookout for cartel members, I spot nothing out of the ordinary, which pisses me off even more.
Then, a flash of red from the entrance has me turning in that direction, and my heartbeat falters.
Red on red, it seems. The petite, crimson-haired beauty is clothed in a dress of a similar hue that, rather than clashing with her hair, only accentuates the fiery strands, like sunlight on rubies.
Her nerves are obvious, despite her attempts to blend in with the rest of the guests shuffling through security. Despite the fantastic strides she’s made to fool everyone around her, she practically reeks of it: the obvious cop among the bustling merrymakers.
A flash of fury rises inside me before it twists and transforms into something else: curiosity.
I take a step in her direction before I realize I’ve moved.
The FBI has been trying to take Stefan down for some time now, and the last agent they sent our way…didn’t end well. I’d watched it all happen; his death was gruesome.
Ifthisis another one of those feeble attempts, then it may very well be impossible to knock Stefan down from his pedestal. The woman stands out like a drop of blood on fresh snow, with her red hair, pale skin, and luminous blue eyes.
Unless—
