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“Good. Now I know you’ve been in the company of Nathaniel previously but let me remind you of his rules. Do not speak unless spoken to. Unlike me, he won’t hesitate to slice your throat if you so much as look at him the wrong way. Be at his beck and call. While he is in this room, you work forhim. Offer to walk his guest to his room—although I doubt he will allow it. We must play the perfect hosts.”

Narcissa was now nodding at each of my points directly. We’ve been through this before, played his game.

“The girl that paid for her time with him can be set up there,” I pointed to the chair in the corner of the room, the machines and wires akin to a clinical blood draw appointment. “I don’t care if he uses her or not. At least she’ll be prepped and ready.”

My fingers tapped against the dark wood in front of me, goose pimples erupting on my skin from the charge in the air. Some might mistake that for nerves, but those that knew me could attribute it to excitement. It was a blessing then, that not many people knew me. I crossed my legs under my desk to keep from fidgeting.

“Make sure we have drinks. And no matter what, stay in this room. The glass isn’t soundproof, but the music should cover the comings and goings of this room. I don’t care what he says, Narcissa. Wecannotfuck this up. Do you hear me? We have one shot.”

It was the first time I had spoken about my intentions since arriving atAmbrosiaearly this evening. Narcissa, of course, was the only one that could know— I needed someone to confide in, someone to help me plan it out.

We played this game before, but never like this.

“Hisguestcomplicates things, but I’ll allow you the meal, once we dispose of him. See it as a reward for your help in creating the first female High Lady of Sin City.” She shivered at the thought; to have Nate’s job, Nate’s contacts, Nate’s money. To have his whole fucking city. I deserved that.

“Thank you, Mercy, for that gift,” she said with equal apprehension.

My ears caught just the slightest sound of his heavy footsteps, making his way towards the glass office. I could tell Narcissa heard it too by the way her body tightened and her eyes narrowed. I smiled, lifting up my feet up on my desk, confidence riding off of me in waves.

Nathaniel Tusker was not going to be leaving this club tonight.

5

CECELIA

My heart was pounding sohard that it threatened to burst from my chest as Tusker placed his cold hand against my lower back, pushing me forward. Everyone was too focused on themselves, caught up in the allure ofAmbrosiaand its pulsing heartbeat, to notice the way my eyes widened in a silent cry for help.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart,” Tusker whispered into my ear, sending cool shivers down my spine. “This won’t take long and then we’ll have some fun.”

Chewing on my lip to stop myself from whimpering, I nodded. His fingers circled my back through the thin silver crepe material of my dress. I now regretted the way it clung to my frame and revealed too much; the curve of my breasts, the entirety of my arms, part of my thighs. Never again would I let Laura choose my outfit.

The young girl led us to a door at the side of the bar, guiding us through a dark hallway. There were thin tube lights placed along the ceiling corners, casting a dim red light onto the painted black walls. Something told me that you wouldn’t be able to see any stains. Or spilled blood.

Depositing us at the end of the corridor, the girl pointed at a sleek black stairwell in front of us. “Please follow the stairwell to the top floor where Ms. Petrova’s assistant will greet you.”

Without making eye contact, she fled back into the safety of the club, leaving me in the very untrustworthy hands of Nathaniel Tusker. I bristled under his touch.

Tusker was silent as he guided me up the stairs. I knew he could sense my fear—it was no secret that the Known were particularly skilled in their field, taking advantage of their heightened senses— and that was not a good thing. The movies always said fear tasted sweeter than any other emotion.

I wasn’t religious but I hoped and prayed to God that wasn’t true.

A tall, beautiful woman stepped out of the shadows as we reached the top of the stairs. Her long hair hung in silver waves around her chest and down her back. Her eyes, a beguiling shade of lilac like all of the Known, were lined in smokey hues of gray and her lips were painted in black with not a single imperfection.

She clucked her tongue in distaste as she looked at me, her face scrunched up in boredom, before turning her gaze towards Tusker. She lowered her head in a show of submission. “Mr. Tusker.”

Tusker moved his hand further up my back, curling his fingers over my shoulder. “Narcissa, my dear. A pleasure as always. Pity you choose to work for Mercy, though. I could show you a much better time.”

The beautiful woman—Narcissa, Tusker had called her—let her lips twitch into a smile before she turned her back on us and beckoned that we follow.

“I’m afraid I don’t think I would be adept at handling your brand of fun, Mr. Tusker,” she crooned.

A glance at Tusker told me her weak attempt at flattery worked on him, going by the smirk he wore.

Men and their stupid egos.

Narcissa’s stilettos clicked along the corridor until she stopped at a tinted black door made of glass. She covered the handle with her slender fingers and manicured nails, pushing the door open to reveal a sleek office and its occupant.

Sitting behind a large desk at the furthest away wall was a woman so poised and elegant that I could only assume she was the Ms. Petrova that Tusker was here to meet.