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CHAPTER TWENTY

JULIAN

S he’s laughing.

Her entire body is heaving, those delicate shoulders shaking with such force I’m amazed they don’t snap. The guards grip her arms as she thrashes between them like some feral animal.

That fucking laugh—high and unhinged. It’s the sound of a woman who’s lost her goddamn mind.

As much as that laugh unnerves me, it’s her eyes that chill my blood: vacant green pools that see everything and nothing all at once.

“Let me go,” she snarls through laughter that doesn’t stop, not even to breathe. “I wasn’t finished with the party!”

I follow a few paces behind as the guards drag her down the hallway. My chest feels like it’s splitting open, cracking along a fault line. She killed Lucas right under my fucking nose.

“You should’ve seen his face,” she calls back to me, twisting her neck to catch my gaze. “Surprised to the very end. Just like Adrian.”

My step falters, and for a moment I can’t breathe past the rage and grief clawing up my throat.

There it is. A confession. Finally.

She’s guilty.

My mind has been plagued with doubts these past weeks—that strange man with the feather at the Harvest festival, Lucas failing to attend my first meeting, Aurelia’s unwavering insistence that my mother is orchestrating everything. I even tried to act like my brother and investigate what I could.

But this... this erases every uncertainty. And I should’ve listened to my gut all along.

The woman before me is a killer. An actress. A manipulator.

And she’s enjoying this.

I thought my heart couldn’t break more than it already did but some part of it was still holding together.

Now, it fully shatters.

The love of my life killed my brother.

How the fuck do I handle that?

Aurelia continues to laugh but I’ve heard enough. “Shut her up,” I growl at the guards. One of them clamps a hand over her mouth, but her laughter continues, muffled and grotesque behind his palm.

We reach Adrian’s room—her prison cell—and I stand back as they shove her inside. She stumbles, catching herself on the dresser before whirling around, that deranged smile still plastered across her face .

I meet her gaze, searching for any glimpse of the woman I thought I knew. The girl who wrapped a hair tie around my wrist when we were kids. The woman who tasted like honey when I kissed her. The person I’ve been obsessed with for as long as I can remember.

She’s gone. This maniacal, deranged stranger has taken her place.

“Lock it,” I say. “Triple the guard. No one enters or leaves without my direct order.”

As the door slams shut, her laughter follows me down the hallway, burrowing into my skull like a parasite.

I pass by the room with the dead man. The men from security are already cleaning up, professional and discreet as they wrap Lucas’s body in black plastic.

My eyes drift to his face—or what’s visible of it—before they cover him completely.

His eyes bulge, face frozen in shock, a silk tie still wrapped around his throat.

Christ . She didn’t just kill him. She strangled him with his own fucking tie.

The room swims, and I touch the wall to steady myself. Lucy. His wife. Someone will have to tell her.

She isn’t here thankfully—wives and husbands don’t come to these events, preferring not to see how their spouses behave. But someone will have to tell her about Lucas. She’ll remember my last visit. She’ll think I did this.

Everything around me fades, all drowned by Lucy’s sobs still echoing in my head. I relive the way my own mother cut Lucy’s perfect skin. How she used my own pocketknife to try to slice out the truth .

And I did shit to stop it, useless and impotent against my mother’s commands.

The taste of whiskey is acidic on my tongue as it threatens to come back up. A slow breath steadies me enough to move, and I take a detour to my office. The lights flicker on instantly from the motion-sensor.

I grab a pen and slip of paper off my desk, writing instructions for Valentine with shaking hands.

Wire ten million to Lucy Carter.

Absolve her of all ties.

Don’t let anyone know she’s received the funds.

Death releases no one in this organization—someone would expect her to take over Lucas’s role. But I’m not letting that happen. Maybe Valentine can find some distant relative, a sibling or cousin, willing to step in. But not Lucy. I won’t let her get dragged deeper into this hell.

I fold the note, slap a wax seal over the crease and press down with force. Lucy never wanted to be part of this world anyway. She was just collateral damage and maybe, somehow, this act will ease my guilt and free me of my sins against her.

She’s one of the few who get their freedom, and she can go on to live a good life for the rest of us trapped here by chains.

I shove the envelope into a guard’s chest on the way out, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. “For Valentine,” I snap. “Make sure he gets it tonight. ”

Back at the party, eyes follow me around. Whispers multiply like rats in the corners. Each one feels like a knife twisting deeper into my gut.

Someone clears their throat, an awkward cough that cuts through the tension. I catch the end of a hushed conversation—Lucas’s name mixed with mine—and shoot a glare toward the offenders. They flinch and look away.

Cowards, all of them.

My mother approaches. Her eyes are wide and innocent, but we both know better. I’m seeing her differently after that night with Lucy. She’s… more cut-throat than I realized.

“Julian.” Her voice is sharp and demanding as she touches my arm. “If you don’t do something immediately…”

The words hang in the air between us, heavy with subtext, and I shake her hand off.

“Julian,” she says again. “This was out in the open.” She leans closer, making sure no one else can hear. “A member killed at your own gathering? If you don’t stand up as a leader right now, they’ll see you as weak.”

I blink at her, heat rising beneath my collar. I know. I’m not an idiot: take action or lose control.

I sigh, really wanting this fucking night to end. “What do you suggest?”

She hesitates for just a second before her mouth curves into a smile that’s too calm. “Make an example of her. Publicly. Throw an event and slit her throat in front of the entire Consortium.”

My stomach knots itself into barbed wire at her suggestion. The thought of Aurelia dead, cut down by my own hand… I fucking can’t. As much as she’s shattered my life, a tiny part still cares.

I can’t do that to her, not without becoming exactly what I despise.

Yet the fact that I can’t makes me despise myself.

Mom’s eyes dig into mine with sharp insistence. “You’ve gained so much ground these past weeks; don’t throw it away.”

Unease crawls under my skin like acid as she holds my gaze without blinking.

“I’ll take care of her,” I finally say, which seems to satisfy her enough.

I will take care of Aurelia, I just don’t know how yet.

Mom straightens. “Good. Now, Gregory has?—”

“I don’t give a shit. That guy has been on me like a vulture all night. Give me some fucking peace.” I walk away from her to the bar.

As I’m fixing a drink, the whispers grow louder than ever before—a storm gathering on every side—and above it all echoes Aurelia’s name.

I swallow more numbing liquid then open the security app, bringing up the camera feed for Adrian’s room.

There she is. Her head thrown back as she laughs. She moves with a manic energy, pacing the room. Even in silence, her mouth forms my name over and over again. Chanting it like a curse.

I did this to her.

The realization hits hard, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

But doesn’t the backstabbing bitch deserve it ?

Maybe I should kill her as my mother suggests.

Or… I think I know something else I can do. Something to help tame my murderous captive.

As I pocket my phone, I catch Lorenzo glancing at me from a corner, and it’s the first time I’m happy to see the bastard.