Page 9 of Doomed

I stare at the card, Knox’s name looking more ominous than elegant. “But he seemed so...”

“Charming?” Michelle’s laugh is bitter. “Of course he did. Men like that don’t survive by looking like monsters.”

My chest tightens as fragments of our interaction replay in my mind. The way he moved through the gallery, as if he owned it. How Elliot bowed to him. The casual authority in Knox’s voice when he said Xavier would approve.

“How do you know all this?” I ask.

“Because I’ve lived here my whole life.” Michelle stops pacing and faces me directly. “The Blackwoods have been notorious for years.”

I think about that moment when Knox touched my face. The predatory gleam in his eyes when I slapped him.

“I don’t want to research them,” I whisper. “I’m scared of what I’ll find.”

Michelle’s expression softens. She moves closer, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Then don’t take the job, B. There are other opportunities. Safer ones.”

But even as she says it, I know it’s not that simple. Knox Blackwood has already gotten under my skin, and pretending otherwise won’t make that feeling disappear.

“You know what?” Michelle straightens up. “Forget about all this Blackwood drama for tonight. Let’s go back to the apartment, get freshened up, and hit the town. When’s the last time we went out?”

I consider her suggestion, my gaze drifting between the card and my unfinished painting. The gallery suddenly feels suffocating, as if the walls are closing in around me, given everything I now know about Knox.

“That sounds perfect.” I put my brush down. “I need to get out of my head.”

“Exactly! We’ll grab some drinks, maybe dance a little. Remember how to have fun without overthinking everything.” Michelle grins, pulling her phone out. “I’ll see if any of the girls from work want to meet up.”

As I clean up and pack away my art supplies, an idea begins to form. A dangerous, probably stupid idea that makes my pulse quicken.

“Michelle?” I keep my voice casual. “What if we went somewhere specific tonight?”

“Depends. Please tell me you’re not suggesting karaoke again. My vocal cords haven’t recovered from last time.”

“What if we went to Purgatory?”

Michelle freezes mid-text, her fingers hovering over her phone screen. “Are you insane?”

“Think about it.” I turn to face her. “I need to know what I’d be getting into, right? What better way than to see the place myself?”

“By walking into a den of criminals?”

“By going to a club as regular customers.” I grab my jacket from the chair. “We dress up, blend in, and have a drink or two. I get to see what kind of establishment it is, what kind of art they already have.”

Michelle stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “Bianca, this is the opposite of forgetting about the Blackwood drama.”

“Or it’s the smartest thing I could do.” I slip the business card into my jacket pocket. “Knowledge is power, right? I can’t make an informed decision without understanding what I’d be walking into.”

“And if we run into Knox while we’re there?”

The thought sends an unwelcome thrill through me. “Then we’ll handle it.”

Michelle shakes her head. “Fine. But we’re setting ground rules.”

“Deal.”

The walk back to our apartment passes in comfortable silence, both of us lost in thought. As we climb the stairs to our second-floor unit, I can’t help but smile at how easily Michelle agreed to this insane plan. Two months ago, I wouldn’t have had anyone to share my crazy ideas with.

“I still can’t believe you moved here without knowing a single person,” Michelle says as she unlocks our door, like she’s reading my mind.

“Desperate times.” I follow her inside, hanging my jacket on the hook by the door. “Dad’s debts were getting worse. The creditors started showing up at my apartment.”