Page 157 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

“I hope you’ll have something like this for yourself someday,” Willow adds, her voice gentle. “If that’s what you want, I mean. Peace and quiet, a family… it’s not impossible, you know.”

I look down at Dayana, still nestled in my arms, and for a moment, I let myself imagine it. A life like this with Nico, Killian, and Atlas. Maybe even kids. It’s a nice dream, but I’m not sure how we’ll ever get from here to there.

I’m honestly not certain it’s possible.

“Part of me wants that,” I admit, surprising myself as the words tumble out. “With them. But we have to survive this mess first.”

She nods firmly. “You will. I believe that.”

Before I can respond, Ransom appears on the stairs, motions for us. “Vic’s got something,” he announces.

Willow quickly takes Dayana from me, and we head back upstairs where everyone is gathered around the bank of computers.

“What did you find?” I ask Victor, terrified to know but anxious to find out.

“A bit, but not a lot. I wish I had more to tell you,” he begins.

“All of the DLS members seem to be incredibly good at staying off the radar. There wasn’t a lot I could dig up on Malcolm at first. He’s got all of his business interests hidden behind shell companies.

But I did find something, and I was able to dig up a bit more about the Society too. ”

“Whatever you’ve got, we’ll take it,” I say immediately. “Even the smallest details could help.”

He nods, scrolling through lines of text on his screen.

“Last time I researched the Dark Lotus Society for you, I found out that it’s not your typical criminal organization.

It’s more of a collective. Each person has their own separate interests, but they’ve banded together for mutual benefit and protection. ”

“Right.” I nod, glancing between him and the computer screen. “I remember that.”

“Malcolm Mercer is definitely their leader,” he continues. “Whether in name or not, he’s the one who calls the shots. But it seems as though each member is free to pursue their own business interests for the most part, while also owing allegiance to and having the backing of the entire Syndicate.”

I frown, tugging at my lower lip. “I remember that too. But how does that work in the real world, exactly?”

Vic’s piercing blue eyes light up slightly, like I’ve asked the perfect question. “That’s where it gets interesting. Here’s a new piece of information I uncovered: each member is entitled to call in three favors from the entire Syndicate. They call it a ‘votum’—which is Latin for ‘vow.’”

“Three favors,” Nico muses. “Huh. I guess limiting it like that forces them to choose wisely.”

“And probably prevents any single member from getting too powerful, too quickly,” Killian adds.

“Anything else?” I press, hoping for more. “Did you find a way for us to contact Malcolm?”

“I think so.” Vic leans back a bit. “Like I said, he’s practically a ghost, with multiple barriers between his name and any of the businesses he controls.

But I managed to track down one. He owns a place called Noctura—as of a couple of years ago, at least. It’s an upscale spa and bathhouse in the city. ”

“Must be a front.” Killian crosses his arms, his fingers drumming over his biceps. “Places like that are perfect for hiding all sorts of illegal activities.”

I nod. It’s still not much, but it’s something concrete we can work with. If Malcolm owns the place, he’ll be keeping tabs on it. Which means I can use it to reach out to him.

It’s more than we had an hour ago. Hell, more than we had five minutes ago.

“Thank you, Victor,” I say, then turn to the others. “Thank you all. This is… it means a lot. We truly appreciate it.”

Nico and Killian nod in agreement, some of the tension finally leaving their shoulders for the first time since we arrived.

“We owe you one,” Killian adds. There isn’t any particular warmth in his tone, but it’s not quite as gruff as it was when we got here.

Malice shrugs, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Consider us even. Like Willow said, your father helped us out of a tight spot. Probably saved our lives. It’s the kind of debt that can’t really be quantified.”

“Yeah, well…” I mirror the almost-smile. “Let’s hope we don’t make a habit of needing each other’s help like this.”

Vic glances up from his computer. “Agreed.” He hesitates, glancing at Willow, then adds, “But if you need anything else, you know where to find us.”

We head downstairs, escorted by Willow and all three of her men. She’s still holding Dayana, and when the baby waves a chubby hand at me as if saying goodbye, I can’t stop myself from smiling.

“Take care, Quinn,” Willow says softly as I reach for the door handle. “And good luck. I hope you find him soon.”

I nod, surprised by the warmth in her voice.

We barely know each other, but I feel like something has shifted between us.

Maybe it’s because of our shared experience of loving dangerous men, or maybe it’s just Willow’s open nature, the way she seems to embrace life with open arms. Either way, I’m grateful for her kindness.

We might not be friends, exactly, but it’s good to know that we aren’t enemies. God knows I have enough of those already.

“Thanks, Willow. Take care of yourself.”

We step outside, and I take a second to exhale, rolling my shoulders back and letting go of some of the stress and anxiety I’ve been feeling. We’re one step closer to getting Atlas back, and that’s worth taking a few seconds to celebrate—if only inside my own head.

As we approach our bikes, I pull out my phone. My moment of feeling thankful slips away, replaced by grim determination. My fingers hover over the keypad for a moment before I punch in the number Ambrose called me from earlier.

It rings once, then twice.

“Quinn.” Ambrose’s voice comes through, clear and sharp. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d call.”

I grip the phone tighter as all the stress I’ve just unloaded comes rushing back. “Cut the shit, Ambrose. You know why I’m calling. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Do tell.”

“I’ll get you into the Dark Lotus Syndicate. But I want Atlas back. Unharmed.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment I wonder if he’s hung up. Then his laughter crackles through the speaker, cold and humorless.

“Unharmed? I’m afraid that ship has sailed, my dear.” His tone turns cruel. “Your precious Atlas has already experienced quite a bit of… discomfort.”

I know what he’s saying is true. I’d like to pretend I’ve repressed the memories of Atlas’s tortured screams from the last time I talked to Ambrose, but it would be a lie. I still hear those gut-wrenching cries every time I close my eyes to sleep at night.

“You son of a bitch,” I hiss, barely keeping my simmering rage in check. “If you don’t think for a second that I won’t?—”

“Now, now,” he interrupts smoothly. “Let’s not get emotional. I can promise to keep him alive and in… relatively decent shape. As long as you uphold your end of the deal, of course.”

I close my eyes for a second and take a breath to get myself back together, for Atlas’s sake as much as my own. If there’s one thing my dad taught me—and the thing Ambrose just reaffirmed —it’s that negotiations and emotions don’t mix. “Fine. But the torture stops now. Immediately.”

“Fine.” His smug voice parrots mine. “I accept your terms. Get me into the Dark Lotus Syndicate, and I’ll ensure Atlas remains relatively unscathed.”

My stomach churns at his casual cruelty, but I force myself to stay focused. “I need proof that he’s alive. Now.”

There’s a pause, then a rustling sound. My heart races, hoping to hear Atlas’s voice.

Instead, a bloodcurdling scream rips through the speaker. It’s unmistakably Atlas, his voice raw and agonized. The sound cuts off abruptly, replaced by Ambrose’s chilling chuckle.

“There’s your proof, my dear. Don’t worry—he’ll come back to you alive and well. It’s amazing how much pain you can inflict without causing lasting damage.”

My vision blurs red, and I grip my phone so hard that my fingers ache. Every muscle in my body tenses as I fight the urge to hurl the damn thing across the parking lot.

I’m about to unleash another torrent of threats and curses at Ambrose when I feel a firm grip on my arm. Nico’s hand is there, steady and grounding. His touch is a silent warning, reminding me to keep it together.

I take another deep breath, forcing myself to unclench my jaw. He’s right. I can’t lose control now, not when we’re so close. Atlas needs me to stay focused.

“It’s a deal,” I tell Ambrose, my voice strained. “I’ll call you once I’ve set up the meeting with the Dark Lotus Syndicate. I’ll tell you when and where it’s going down.”

“Excellent.” He sounds so fucking pleased with himself that I want nothing more than to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze the life out of him. But not now. Not today. “I look forward to our next chat, Quinn. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

I hang up before either of us can say anything else.