Page 22

CONAN

T apping my fingers on the table, the silence is thick between us. Enzo summoned the whole crew—everyone’s here but Dr. Quinn. Usually, it’s me who’s late. But today, I raced from my garage and still made it on time. Might score some brownie points with Enzo for once.

Drago’s tapping away on his laptop opposite me. I turn to Declan.

“Isabella still want to come to the gym with me after school?”

His little girl is my favorite person in the world. I love being an uncle. She’s got fire like her mother and the temper of her father. Honestly, she’s probably going to be a damn good fighter. Declan’s not keen on it, though. Wants to keep her out of harm’s way, always.

Though part of the deal is she teaches me to dance. Declan even bought me a pink tutu. So every Thursday, I’m spinning around in a fucking skirt. She gets these fits of giggles about it, and somehow that makes it all okay.

“Yeah. She did mention she wants to help you with the cars too. If you have time?”

I grin.

“I always have time for that little whirlwind. Actually, I think you need to pop another one out.”

Declan coughs, and my eyes go wide.

“Is she?” I whisper.

“Shut it.”

The door flies open, and the room falls silent again.

“This better be fucking good. I just had to call in some serious favors at the hospital.” Finn storms in, slamming the door behind him.

I bite back a grin as Declan kicks me under the table.

I can’t look at Enzo—he’s got a short fuse, especially with Finn. But it goes both ways.

Finn’s gray eyes meet mine; I discreetly nod toward the head of the table. He rolls his eyes.

“Afternoon, Enzo.”

He yanks out a chair opposite me and Declan next to Drago, who, like me, is barely holding back a smile at Finn’s outburst. Drago fits in well.

“Saving lives is more important than taking them, Dr. Quinn?” Enzo’s thick Italian accent cuts through the room.

Finn glances at Declan, who scowls, then checks his Rolex.

“Yeah. In daylight hours. Remember, I have to keep my job at the hospital to make this whole fucking illusion real. But I’m here, aren’t I?”

I clear my throat and get another kick from Declan.

“Do it again, and I’ll throw you across the table,” I whisper.

“Try me. I’ll shoot you in the face.”

“No. You wouldn’t. Because you love your little brother. Finn is the one in trouble, not me.”

I tease him.

Enzo’s accent stops me from saying more.

“Yes. You’re here. So quit the bratty complaining. This was important enough for me to fly in from Vegas.”

Enzo leans back in his chair.

“Enzo. It’s good. We’re all here and listening,” Declan cuts in.

Enzo nods, his eyes on me. I straighten my back and sit up straight.

“Conan. Your games are next. I’ve sent over the final contestants. This year you’ll have ten.”

I flick a glance at Finn. The more contestants for the Decadence Chase, the busier Finn is eliminating those who entered the women.

“Okay.” I scratch my stubble.

“I do have a request, though,” I tell them.

All eyes on me. Here goes nothing.

“What?”

“The reward will be two million, but no option for a submissive for a year. I need that in the contract.”

I look to Drago for help. He’s the guy drafting all the legal shit. A grey area of what he did for Vlad in Russia, but the guy knows everything—martial arts, law, business, cooking, and teaching Isabella. You name it, he does it.

“So what do you exactly get out of this?”

I shrug.

“You don’t want a submissive?” Enzo arches a brow.

“Yes. Just one specific one who’s not entering.”

Finn rolls his eyes.

“You want to extend her an invitation?” Drago’s deep Russian voice cuts through.

“No,” I blurt.

I can’t have Hallie knowing what happens in Decadence. Maybe one day I’ll show her Inferno. We can have fun there. But the games? The Chase? No. Never.

We came up with these games when we were all single, trying to gain standing in the US with Enzo.

Five years passed. The Quinn brothers are solid here now.

The games are the pinnacle of maintaining order. But there’s always another way.

“Don’t fucking tell me this is your last year as well?” Enzo grits out.

I look to Declan. He must’ve told Enzo his games are done. Charlotte would chop his balls off if he continued with it now.

“It could be. Let’s just do this year first and see.”

I’ve never had a serious relationship. Don’t know if I want that now. Or if it’s even possible with my lifestyle. Hallie might wake up one day and decide I’m not enough. Or she might see who I really am.

My kinks aren’t for everyone. My anger isn’t either. But I’d never fucking hurt her.

Enzo tuts, shaking his head.

“Regardless of Decadence, even if they stop theirs, we’ve got my trials. Worst case, members start their own versions, or we get creative. There’s always a way that won’t ruin my brother’s relationships,” Finn cuts in.

I offer a smile to Finn. No matter what, he’ll defend me until death—and I’d do the same for him.

We’re family. Always. We owe it to our parents.

Enzo turns to Finn.

“How are you getting on? All families taken care of from Declan’s games?”

Finn swallows.

“One more. He’s out of state. Me and Drago are tracking him down. Think he’s in Chicago.”

Enzo nods.

Declan’s contestants were daughters of Mafia bosses. Enzo targets a new pool of villains each game.

“Who are we going after with my Chase?” I ask.

He smirks.

“Rival club owners.”

“As in clubs like Inferno?”

He nods.

“I’ve expanded fast in the industry. Need to whittle out the bad quietly.”

“So my contestants… work at the clubs?”

“Some, probably. Others are daughters or partners. Their sacrifice has to be meaningful.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“So their best earner, wives, or daughters.”

“Pieces of shit,” Declan mutters.

That’s the point.

We let them think we’re the worst. Pure evil.

But when they give up their women to Decadence, they sign away their lives.

And the women?

They don’t meet that fate.

Maybe we’re evil, but if it means destroying the real villains, so be it.

“Okay. Fine. Drago, I’m training for my fight. Can you go through the applications and arrange appropriate outfits? Matching masks?”

Drago scratches his head.

“Uh. I guess?”

I chuckle. He’s still not used to the States, but so far, he’s been damn helpful.

“Ask Reggie or Rowan if you need help.”

Enzo clicks his knuckles, calling us back.

“I’m going off-grid for a while. Some things need sorting. I trust you to continue the games? No fuck-ups?”

“You have our word, Enzo,” Declan confirms.

“No more ghosts coming out of the closet.”

I frown. More ghosts?

Fuck, I have a graveyard full. Many ready to show up.

“Any ghosts we should know about?”

Enzo shakes his head and downs a scotch.

“None that concern you. But Arthur Bowen’s asking questions. I assume he’s pissed over James’ death?” He pins me with a stare.

I look at Finn, who’s poker-faced. We’re keeping our suspicions about Ben quiet.

“I ain’t heard shit from him, Enzo.”

Declan shifts.

“He called weeks ago. I never returned. It was in the middle of my games and everything with Charlotte. He wasn’t important.”

I pull back and look at Declan.

“They know we’re here?”

As much as I want to smash Arthur’s head in, I have bigger fish to fry.

“No. He called my old line.”

“Watch your back. I don’t have much sway in the UK yet. If you have to eliminate the threat, do it quietly.”

“They got their revenge for James. We owe them nothing.”

My anger radiates. They took my father’s life for my sins.

“We’ll sort it, Enzo. Thanks for the heads-up,” Declan says calmly.

As Enzo says goodbye and the door closes, I slouch back in my chair.

Finn grins. “Just send me and Con back to London. I’ll make it impossible for Arthur to sniff us out.”

I like that option.

Declan shakes his head.

“Drago, can you dig on him? See his movements?”

“Sure. Send info, I’ll dust off my hacking manual.”

I like this guy.

Our own Enzo, the Russian version who’s less bossy.

I clap my hands.

“Now that the riveting meeting’s done, anyone fancy a gym session with me and Isabella later?”

“I have to get back to the hospital.”

My heart flutters. Hallie.

“Want a lift?”

Finn frowns.

“Why? What will I owe you?”

I fake hurt.

“Nothing. I’m heading to the garage. Gotta finish the Shelby.”

“Hallie’s?” Finn grins.

“Yeah.”

I play it cool.

“You think I missed the half-million dollar McLaren at my work that belongs to you? Dumbass.”

He stands, rounds the table, and smacks my head. I grab his wrist and squeeze.

“You can’t work if I smash your hand to pieces.”

I taunt him.

“I said watch out for her, not fall in love.”

I release him.

“That isn’t?—”

He cuts me off.

“I see everything.”

He backs away to the door. I clench my fists.

It’s not love. I don’t know how to love.

“Come on then, chauffeur,” Finn calls.

“I guess me and Drago will go for a drink while we dig,” Declan mumbles.

“You got a blade on you?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Pass it here.”

He places the cool metal in my palm. I flick it open.

The wound on my thigh is healing nicely. Hallie did good.

I push up my black tee and run the blade lightly along my skin—two inches, just above my left hip.

“Conan. What the fuck?” Declan jumps up and snatches the knife.

“What? It’s part of my plan,” I laugh.

“You need help.”

Declan hits the side of my head.

“Yeah… that’s exactly the plan. Medical help.” I pull my top down over the cut. Can’t let Finn see it. Don’t want his help.