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Story: Bloody Wedding

I swallow. My own breakfast has gone untouched ever since my stomach went queasy. “You like me.”

Adrian lowers his cup. “I don’t like you, Loni.”

“Then why the fuck did you marry me?”

His lips curve. “Good question.”

I didn’t expect him to say he loves me. If he did, I might’ve picked up my pancake, slapping him in the face with the sticky, syrupy side of my breakfast. And yet… it’s worse that he goes all enigmatic like that right after dropping the bomb on me about Mr. Banks.

I’m done. Yeah… I’m done. I ate most of my eggs. Some of my pancakes. As far as I’m concerned, I fulfilled my obligation. Wehad breakfast, and now that I have his word that I can keep my job for as long as I can, I have work to do.

However, right as I’m about to get up, his phone buzzes. For the first time since I sat down, he takes his eyes off of me momentarily so that he can pick it up. He had it facedown on the table, lost among all of the food, glasses, and utensils, and I never even saw it until he grabbed it.

There’s a slight furrow to his brow as he reads the screen before he shakes his head, setting it back down.

I don’t expect him to tell me what that was about. Even when we had some semblance of a relationship between us, Adrian was always so secretive. Especially when it involved the Order, and now that he’s fully inducted into it, there’s no doubt in my mind that that buzz has everything to do with the society.

I don’t expect him to tell me anything at all—and that’s why I’m so stunned when he looks at me again and says, “That was a text from Dallas.”

Dallas. Not my favorite person on the planet at the moment. “What did he want?”

“Just to pass along a message. Seems like my uncle wants to meet with me.”

Oh.

Wonderful.

NINE

BLOOD OATH

TEN YEARS AGO

ADRIAN

I’ve already gone through four cigarettes.

I’m not a big chain smoker. I have a smoke when I’m feeling stressed; apart from sinking into Loni Dougherty, it’s the only thing in this rotten world that calms me. But ever since she got into her car, tears in her eyes, driving away from me… not even the nicotine is doing its fucking job.

It would help if Jack stopped dicking around. He knows I’m out here. I told his secretary that it was important, and Alice simply smiled and said my uncle was a busy man, and he’d get to me as soon as he could.

I mean, fuck. Why not pat me on the head and tell me what a good doggy I am while you’re at it?

Instead, I decided to park my ass in one of the chairs outside of Jack’s office. The Fortress is a no-smoking building, but Alice didn’t say shit when I pulled a cigarette out of my pack and lit it up.

Her prissy face did pinch a little when I finished the smoke, stamping it out on the fancy carpeted floor. I didn’t care. When Jack still wasn’t available, I lit up another. And another.

I’m about to light up my fifth when, finally, the heavy door swings outward.

My cousin comes stalking out of the office, head held high, a red blemish on his cheek. I’ve seen that before. Dallas must’ve said something that his father didn’t like. Because of that, he was backhanded, and the mark hasn’t gone down yet.

He nods at me, and I see the fury in eyes just like mine. I return the nod, a silent promise that I’m here to cause Jack even more trouble.

I’ll say one thing. My uncle knows better than to lift his hand up to me. Dallas takes it because he has a mental tally of everytime his old man ever hit him, with the idea that he’ll get his lick back tenfold when the day comes.

Me? If Jack even tried to discipline me the way he does Dallas, I’ll burn the whole damn Order down. If my cousin gave me the sign, I’d do it for his sake.

I have the tools to do it, too.