Page 62 of Daggermouth

“What about the prisoners she was locked up with?” Greyson asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

“Dead,” Lira answered quietly. “Either killed in the prison yesterday or . . .” She trailed off, but they all knew what went unsaid.

Or Greyson would be putting a bullet in their skull on that platform before they could tell anyone.

Callum nodded slowly, pushing the thought from his mind as the pieces began clicking into place. “Good. We need to keep it that way, this secret gives us power too.”

Greyson drained the rest of his whiskey, then set the glass down. “And what happens when the Daggermouths see her with me? When they refuse to believe she would willingly take the Vow or turn on them, and start an uprising?”

A valid concern, Callum had to admit. Callum had worked with many of them over the years, when procuring items off the black market for his clients. Jaeger’s assassins were fiercely loyal to their own. The idea of one of their best operatives not only failing to kill her target, but marrying him instead, would be met with skepticism at best and violent retribution at worst.

He drummed his fingers against his thigh, mind racing through contingencies and potential pitfalls. “We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to it,” he said finally. “But if we do this correctly, she’ll be dead before they canmobilize.”

Greyson’s jaw worked and Callum watched as he turned the plan over in his mind.

“So what now?” he asked, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone. “I just play another role, pretend I actually want to get to know her? That I’m some doting fiancée and not imagining all the ways I could end her life every time I look at her?”

Callum’s head tilted, studying Greyson’s face through the slits in his mask. “What does she look like, anyway? Objectively. Is she attractive, at least?”

Greyson didn’t respond, just stared at him with that flat, unreadable expression he’d perfected over the years. The one that could make even the most hardened Veyra officer’s blood run cold.

“I haven’t noticed,” he finally answered.

Callum’s smile turned knowing. “Sure you haven’t. Well, try to notice. Might make playing the role a bit easier if you can find something appealing to focus on. Just be careful, Grey. Don’t go falling for your fake wife.”

Lira scoffed at the statement as Greyson grimaced, disgust twisting his features. “I’d never touch a Daggermouth.”

“Good. Then this should be simple. Make her trust you. Make her think you’re on her side, that you’re falling for her and understand her hatred for the Heart. Get her to confide in you about the Daggermouths, about their operations, their contracts. If you can get her talking, she might let slip information about Brooker’s killer.” He kept his voice casual, as if they were discussing the weather and not a plot to manipulate and destroy a woman.

“Fine,” Greyson finally sighed after a long pause. “I’ll do it. But if we’re going to sell this, I need you to come back to the apartment with me. Help me clear out my father’s surveillance, we need the place clean if I’m going to make this convincing.”

Callum nodded, pushing off the ledge of his desk and stretching his neck to ease the tension that had settled there. “Let’s do this. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can start working on your little Daggermouth wife.”

He needed Greyson focused, not constantly looking over his shoulder wondering what his father might overhear.

The siblings stood in tandem, Lira’s eyes darting between them. “What can I do to help?”

“Get her a mask,” Greyson answered, his tone now resigned. “Something a Daggermouth would like. Something she would like.”

Lira’s brow furrowed behind her mask. “Won’t she get one before the ceremony? When they introduce her into Heart society?”

“It’ll be my first gift to her,” Greyson responded. “Before the family dinner tomorrow.”

Greyson released a heavy sigh, then swung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her toward him. “Thank you, Li. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Callum smiled as he watched Lira’s fingers wrap around Greyson’s forearm as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. He had no siblings, no family that cared for him as they cared for each other. Greyson was the closest thing to a brother he would ever have, and he would do anything for him—for them.

This plan, as neat as it sounded in theory, felt fragile. Too many variables, too many ways it could shatter.

Greyson was already moving toward the door, purpose in his stride. Callum followed, casting one last glance at Lira. Her posture had gone rigid again, the mask of Heart perfection sliding back into place as she dipped her chin.

The thump of the club’s music and pulsing neon lights washed over them as they stepped out of his office and made their way down the stairs. Greyson moved through the crowds like a shark through water,parting bodies with his mere presence. Callum kept pace, his mind still turning over the details of their scheme.

Get the Daggermouth to trust Greyson. To confide in him. To let her guard down just enough to reveal her secrets. It sounded simple, but Callum knew better. This woman had tried to kill Greyson, had come closer than anyone ever had. She was dangerous, unpredictable. And now she was living in Greyson’s home, sleeping under his roof.

The unease in Callum’s stomach twisted tighter. He knew Greyson, knew the darkness that lived behind his friend’s eyes. The violence that simmered just beneath the surface, always one trigger pull away from erupting. Putting him in close quarters with a Daggermouth was like trapping a wolf and a lion in the same cage.

Blood would be spilled. The only question was whose.