: Chapter 11

One of the first things I learned in my training for survival in this world was masking my emotions. Welcome the feeling, mold it into something else and package it up, but don’t forget to throw away the fucking key.

The key must have been thrust into my spine, and with each roll of the tires, the seat digs the jagged metal farther into my flesh until it’s grinding against bone. That’s how bad my back is aching right now, my muscles seemingly frozen fucking stiff.

Anger, frustration, and raw humiliation burn through me at a dangerous rate. It boils low in my stomach and high in my throat, rendering me speechless. A fact that’s confirmed when my secret husband’s ex-wife naively decides it’s safe to speak to me.

“I’m nervous.” She smiles, looking out the window as we wait in the red carpet line, her hands clenched tight in her lap proving her words right.

She wouldn’t last a day in the private rooms at The Enterprise. They would chew her up and spit her out so fast she wouldn’t know what hit her until she felt the blood trickle down her temple.

Her mystic green eyes are wide and happy as she swings them to me, and I have the sudden urge to take the pins from my hair and drive them through her pupils, dirty them up a bit and hide the fact that her bright eyes make mine look like the knockoff version of hers. They’re duller in every sense of the word.

“You look fantastic, by the way.” She grins.

I press my teeth tighter together.

“The color really suits your complexion.”

My heart is beating manically, but I take slow, controlled breaths.

Inhale. One second, two seconds. Exhale.

Repeat.

“And the shoes⁠—”

“Enough.” My voice is level and calm and I deserve a medal for it.

Katana frowns, her mouth opening as she moves her eyes from me to the man beside me. “I don’t⁠—”

“I will make the scene of all scenes if you so much as look my way again tonight. I don’t give a shit who you are, where you came from, or why you’re still here. For however long it is that I have the seat you were pushed out of, you will stay the fuck away from me. Talk to him all you want, fuck him for all I care, but stay the hell out of my way.”

Her eyes flare wide and a deep grumble comes from the asshole beside me, but I’m done.

I don’t wait for our turn, reaching over and throwing the door open when we’re still two cars away.

Enzo’s swift grip latches onto my wrist, and I swing my head around.

His furious gaze clashes with mine, but I lift my chin.

“If you don’t want half the city bidding on your body parts for putting your hands on Rayo Revenaw’s daughter, I suggest you let me go.”

“You need to be briefed,” he snaps, grip tightening.

“And you need to remember that I don’t need you. It’s you who needs me.”

“Walk away from me now and I will have to punish you for it.”

“You mean showing up at my sister’s place of business with the bride you bought and the whore you won’t let go of isn’t punishment enough? Or maybe that’s your entire game. Maybe that’s why you wanted me, as you keep claiming. Degradation of the desperate daughter.”

His eyes flare. “Watch your fucking tongue.”

“Watch your moves, Mr. Fikile,” I seethe. “I know what I bring to the table here, but you?” I scoff. “You are nothing but a name to me.”

Enzo’s face goes slack, void of all emotion, leaving nothing but fire in his hellish eyes, but even that washes away with a single blink.

“Is this what happens when you get your feelings hurt?” His tone is full of ridicule. “Are you that threatened by her presence you⁠—”

I’ve got the blade I stole from Jayden’s trunk removed from beneath my right sleeve and flying across the car before he even realizes it’s happening, he’s so focused on my face.

Katana gasps, and his head whips her way, his fist shaking in rage at the sight.

I don’t have to look to know the blade is sticking half an inch into her bicep. I calculated the distance against the angle and weight of the blade when he was still mid-sentence. I threw just hard enough to cut through her muscle without piercing the bone.

“Boston, what the fuck!” he shouts, yanking the door closed. “Pull around again,” he orders the driver, and then we’re passing the entrance altogether, driving in a circle to get back around to the entrance.

“Bitch,” Katana hisses as she yanks it out, and I grind my teeth when Enzo offers her the handkerchief from his pocket.

She goes to take it, but when Enzo doesn’t release it, her eyes pop up to his.

He lowers his chin. “I don’t care if she shaves the skin from your bones, you will not speak to her that way, do I make myself clear?” he tells her.

A huffed laugh pushes past my lips and I shake my head.

He turns his glare on me, his mouth opening, but I cut him off.

“If you’re about to threaten me against harming her, I would advise you take me right back to my prison and add a second lock; otherwise, I will walk inside this building and make a mockery of this relationship as you are making one of me.”

His eyes narrow, some of the anger fading as he calls out to the driver who has just begun to brake in front of the red-carpet-covered steps for the second time. “Step out with Katana a moment. Keep her hidden.”

“Boss—”

“Now,” he barks, and the man moves quicker than I’d have thought possible, helping Katana from the car and locking us inside. Enzo wastes no time, getting right to it. “Did you not hear a word I said to you tonight?”

“Kind of hard not to when you spoke them directly to my face.”

“Then what possessed you to show hatred of me in front of her?”

I blink at him and then blink again, an incredulous laugh escaping. “Are you serious? You want her to believe we’re, what? In love? Like she’s not fully aware of what this really is. You expected me to smile and hold your hand and lie about how fun the night was about to be with your ex-fucking-wife?!” The last few words leave me on a scream.

“That is exactly what I expect.”

“Oh, get real, Enzo. My god.” I drop against the seat, disgusted in myself for not hating the idea of coming to this thing. I should have known the universe would find a way to remind me of my place in this world.

I don’t fucking have one and I’m not meant for it. That is the only possible answer, and to deny that is to lie to my damn self.

I hate this.

I hate that I was so eager to stand beside him tonight.

After several seconds of silence, I finally look his way, which is exactly what he wanted.

His dark brow lifts instantly. “Are you done?”

Wow.

Okay.

A humorless laugh leaves me, and I shake my head, pinning him with a blank expression. “You want me to play your game? Fine. But humiliate me any more than you already are, and I will wipe the fucking board with you.” I reach for the handle, but pause, looking back at him. “And then I’ll nail her to it for fun. I’ve been a good girl, Enzo Fikile. Do not test me.”

“Do not get out of this car. You have no idea what you’re walking into.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I need to tell you—” he snaps, but I’m already climbing out, stretching out of his reach.

“Don’t worry, fiancé, my father made sure I was an ace in adaptability.” The rest of the excitement I never meant to let bloom is buried as the seconds grow closer to us making our entrance. “I’ll follow your lead like a pro.”

I turn, attention slicing to where the body builder of a driver blocks Katana from the press, strategically hired to make this little fundraiser seem as innocent as it sounds, and not like the money washing pit it really serves as. But the minute my shoe hits the concrete below, all heads swivel this way, cameras rise, and flashes blind the pathway to the door.

Unlike the woman from the magazine, these people are well aware of who I am, my sister guaranteed to have already arrived, Bastian on her arm.

So, it’s expected when Enzo steps up behind me, and the audible gasps from the masses ring in my ears like the bells of St. Paul’s Cathedral, but there are no saints here. Only sharp-dressed demons. My very own, a shadow across my back.

Enzo’s giant palms clasp around my hips and he steps closer, plastering his chest to me, gently shuffling us forward as one.

Questions are shouted and screamed with shocked excitement.

“The rumors are true!”

“Mr. Fikile, is she the one?”

“Oh my, Boston Revenaw, is this where you’ve been hiding?”

“When’s the wedding!”

“You make a lovely couple!”

“Does this mean he’ll be your date to the Greyson Gala this season?”

If he doesn’t divorce me and marry someone new by then, sure.

I discreetly fill my lungs.

Holy shit, this is happening. After months of hiding our arrangement, we’re finally to this point.

By morning, everyone will have heard. Envy will spin in the halls of Greyson Elite and anger will boil among the underground union that keeps the criminals in check.

Enzo’s jaw presses at my temple then, a deliberate move to look as though he can’t help but want to be closer, and the photographers damn near grow hearts in their eyes.

The bachelor is a bachelor no more.

Too bad he never was.

He gives me a small squeeze and we start moving once again. We get two steps off the curb, one step on the red carpet when he halts. Curious, I glance up and over my shoulder at him. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment, and when he looks behind us, one hand leaving my hip and outstretching toward the girl in the golden gown still frozen by the SUV, something in me cracks a little. Maybe it’s my pride. Maybe it’s my last shred of confidence, as fleeting as it was.

Maybe it’s that ugly little thing that starts with an H and ends with an E. I tried to drown that dangerous state of mind months ago when he brought me to his estate for that three-month get to know my daughter crap my dad demanded, only to completely ignore me the entire duration of my stay.

Whatever it is, it drags that metaphorical key in my back down, scraping and stabbing against my spine inch by treacherous inch.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Katana steps up, smiling wide from him to me, clearly understanding her assignment. My head snaps forward, the curve of my lips lacking and strangled, the heat of humiliation threatening to set me aflame when his now free arm slings around her shoulders, tugging her in close like we’re some kind of fucking thriving throuple.

I don’t dare look at them; I’m too busy trying not to pass out from the lack of air in my lungs. The fingers on my hip loosen and then unlatch and a heavy pressure falls on my chest as I’m released, but I keep my head held high as I take the steps ahead alone. Just as I reach the last one, a strong hand wraps around my clammy one, halting me.

Aware of how bad it would look if I deliberately ignored his touch, I force myself to acknowledge him.

His dark eyes narrow, his brow furrowing, but only for a second before he rights himself. A cool mask of indifference, his standard expression, slips back in with ease.

I think I hate him.

He hurries up the steps he didn’t even know I had climbed, Katana’s arm now wrapped around his. My eyes meet hers a moment, but she doesn’t break the gleeful expression on her pretty fucking face.

Finally, we’re through the doors, the cameras closed off at our backs, and I subtly yank away, putting a few feet between us as I press my palms to my stomach, trying for a full breath.

The world must really hate me, though, because not a second later my sister bursts through the entryway, her red lips curved high. “Finally!” Rocklin smiles, a smile that falls flat the second her eyes meet mine.

Call it twin telepathy, but she catches the warning I don’t have to speak or express, and that smile comes right back. “I was about to send a team after proof of life,” she teases, wrapping me in a hug. “Are we planning a murder?” she whispers.

“Not yet,” I breathe back, both of us hold on for a moment longer than necessary, remembering the last time we saw each other was when our dad was out to kill her guy and give her to the man who was supposed to be mine.

The man who still has a certain, dark-haired ex under his arm.

God, this is so humiliating. How am I supposed to explain this in a way that will keep my family’s weapons hidden beneath their cocktail attire?

“What’s with the shoes?” Rocklin wonders aloud as she turns toward Enzo and his other date.

I tense, waiting for her reaction, certain it will be a glare if not a second dagger thrown, making a twin-like mark to match mine. Rocklin does neither of those things.

My sister smiles, and to my horror, it’s real. “Katana! He finally let you out of the house.”

Lead, cold and heavy, fills my body and I sway a little.

She knew?

She fucking knew?!

Is that why she was so against my setting up this marriage? Because she knew he already had a wife?

My jaw clenches, fists too, and I dart forward, ready to become the official bitch of the ball, but then a dark shadow falls over me.

I whip around.

“Dad!” I gasp, closing the distance and throwing myself in his arms.

His chuckle is soft, his arms strong as they come around me, tucking me into his embrace. “Beeks.” The break in his voice almost brings tears to my eyes.

So much is said without a word, but I guess maybe it’s always been that way in our family. It kind of has to be when a typical Tuesday consists of an entire crew sweeping your home for planted recording devices and more. Endless enemies, and all that.

I breathe a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding.

He’s alive and in one piece. Better than that, he’s here, so superseded in his position or not, Rayo Revenaw still holds respect in his name. As he should.

“So, Enzo didn’t murder you after all,” I joke.

My dad scoffs a laugh, rubbing his hands down my arms as he steps back. “I hate to admit he could have, but he got what he wanted and left me to the wolves of my own making.”

My father takes a step away in the same second that Enzo’s presence washes over me. His hand snakes out, pressing to my lower back and turning me so I’m not directly facing my father.

My dad fights a scowl and looks beyond us.

“Katana,” he dips his head. “Nice to finally meet you. I hope you’re not giving my daughter too much trouble. I imagine it’s quite an adjustment for you, having her there.”

A harsh breath whooshes past my lips and I wrench away from Enzo.

His eyes darken in warning, but I’m two seconds from flipping the fuck out.

Was I the fool? Did they let this play out to prove I’m the idiot they claimed I was for seeking out “The Ghost,” as the underworld calls him, in the first place?

I must be.

Enzo dips his head, taking slow, threatening steps my way. “It is not. Katana spent many years in an all-girls’ boarding school. She’s accustomed to housemates. Right, sister?”

Cold shock washes through me the moment the lie rolls off his tongue, and I meet my sister’s gaze by mistake. Hers narrows slightly, but I look away, primed to escape, but Enzo is prepared for that and grips my hand with a harsh squeeze. His other reaches for Katana and I have the urge to cry in frustration.

This arrangement was supposed to be the turning point in my life. This was supposed to pull me from under my sister’s shadow and cast me in a new light, if only so I could live without the never-ending comparison to my effortlessly flawless twin. Purpose. Marrying Enzo was supposed to take my pointless existence and give me purpose, even if my only role was the outdated ideals of what a crime boss’s wife is supposed to be.

“Oh, yeah.” Clearly eager to please the man we came here with tonight, Katana plays along with Enzo’s bullshit. “What’s one more woman to…share with?”

This bitch.

I jerk, already anticipating the satisfaction of tearing the tiara right from her head, with a solid handful of hair still attached, is about to offer, but Enzo’s grip tightens on me just as fast, halting me.

Katana’s eyes meet mine and I silently promise to put a dart through her face. She giggles, a gross, girly sound, and slides her arm through Enzo’s outstretched one.

“We should get into the cocktail room before we’re seated for dinner.” Enzo starts walking, his sister on his arm, the other hand outstretched to me. “We can catch up later.” The second part is for me, a warning not to attempt to stay behind and a promise he has no intention of letting me.

“We will, yes. I have to check on a few things anyway. Beeks, find me later?” Rocklin meets my gaze.

I can only nod.

With that, she disappears down the hall, my dad on her heels.

The doors are tugged open, and we step into the massive gathering area of The Enterprise. It never looks the same when you walk in for an event, tonight’s setup generically on theme with the fake organization pretending they’re out to raise money. Ninety percent of the attendees know this, and that’s exactly why they’re here; the other ten, well, they’re the suckers so desperate to be invited to the prestigious, black-tie club, they don’t give a shit to do the research. Not that they’d find fault if they did—cons know how to cover their trails.

A girl in all black heads this way with a tray of champagne, and for a moment I wonder if she’s one of my sister’s prospects, here on a job as the unsuspecting help, but I don’t care enough to consider it for longer than a blink. I’m here for the liquor at this point, and she’s my saving grace, giving me an excuse to let go of the man making me fucking sick.

I snag a glass the second she’s within reach, tearing my hand from Enzo and pretending I need to smooth my hair down. When he reaches for me again, I pass the glass from my right hand to my left hand, meeting his gaze.

What are you going to do, move her to your other side and step around me to hold my free hand?

His jaw tics and surprisingly, he does release his little pet, but only to grab them both a glass. Fire burns in my belly as he gently passes one to her.

Katana smiles her thanks, and it’s not an expression I would point at my sibling. Especially not with the blush creeping up her cheeks.

Fuck this.

Desperate to get away, I search the area as discreetly as possible, knowing it won’t be too hard to find a familiar face. The second I spot one, I call out her name loud enough for others to hear so he can’t keep me chained to his side without stirring the opposite kind of gossip the bastard is going for tonight.

“Delta!”

My sister’s gorgeous, picturesque best friend—one of them anyway—spins to face me. Practiced in the art of all things fake and plastic, she keeps her smile in place when I know she wants to frown with suspicion.

It’s fair, considering I was a brat who liked to stir shit for my sister when I was bored. But she likes me, even if she sometimes wishes she didn’t.

“Don’t even think about it⁠—”

I walk away, ignoring Enzo’s rumbled demand. Each step I take away from the duo, I breathe a little easier.

“Boston.” She smirks as I approach, her gaze on the man frowning at my back. “He’s already obsessed. I’m impressed.”

I scoff, sipping the too sweet drink in my hands. “Speaking of obsessed. Where are your men?”

“Ander is away on Greyson business and Alto is talking to the mayor, pretending he cares about crown-of-thorns starfish.”

“Who came up with that anyway?”

“Smooth, isn’t it? Weave some big words together and put on a serious face, and suddenly everyone believes a poisonous creature that is essentially killing our coral is, in fact, vital.” That smirk of hers turns a bit feral. “Little do they know we’re testing their venom in tranq darts.”

My brows rise and she chuckles, a goddess-like sound, and smooths her multimillion-dollar hands along her middle-parted bun.

I spot the piano up on the stage. “Are you performing tonight?”

“At closing, yes.” She tips her eyes, gauging me. “Why are you avoiding your—” She looks to my left hand. “—fiancé?”

“Not avoiding.”

“Liar.” She studies him a moment. “He hasn’t moved since you walked over.”

I try to fight it but end up swallowing and she grins wider.

“What is he doing?”

“Staring.”

“Let him.”

Delta glances my way, lifting her left hand, facing him once more as she wiggles her fingers in his direction, giving me a smile that can only say this is for lying to your sister.

Also fair. When I showed back up at the Greyson Manor, she thought I ran from Enzo. Well, that’s what she was told by my father but to her credit, she didn’t fall for the lie, far too perceptive to believe I was able to run from a man like him and not get caught.

She found out later Dad had asked permission to take me home for “a visit,” but not even I knew for certain he was taking me so he could refuse to give me back, attempting instead to offer Enzo my sister.

It’s whatever now. She’s with Bastian, I’m…stuck with a man and his ex-wife and here we fucking are.

This champagne is really not going to cut it. Especially since Delta has officially waved him over. Not that he needs an invitation, yet I know he’s accepted it as one when the heat of his body envelops mine from behind.

“Ms. DeLeon.” He tips his head. “You know my sister, Katana.”

I don’t allow myself to tense.

Of course he had to drag her over here with him.

I’d like to reach back and punch him in his dick.

“Of course.” Delta gives a teasing bow, meeting my stare before settling on Katana with what I’m proud to say is more of a musing smile. “Come with me,” she tells her. “I’ll introduce you to a few other first years who made the cut tonight.”

Delta doesn’t wait for her, and I grit my teeth when Katana looks to Enzo for permission.

He tips his chin and off she fucking goes.

Instantly, his gaze swings back to me, heated with anger and annoyance.

“You forgot to tell her what a good girl she was, asking for your permission like that.” I speak before he can.

His brows jerk together instantly, but before he can say a word, and it’s easy to see the man has a lot on his mind, his eyes jerk over my head.

“Behave, or Katana won’t be the only person who bleeds tonight,” he manages to whisper without so much as moving his mouth.

Not a moment later, none other than Philip Mitchell saunters up, his grin wide as he ignores the man to my left, solely focused on me.

Well. This could be fun.