Page 238 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

QUINN

Malcolm’s words make my stomach clench, but I keep my face as neutral as fucking Switzerland. The last thing I’m going to do is let this asshole see how much it rattles me to watch the Princes forced to their knees in front of me, zip-tied and bloody.

The guard behind me shifts and grinds his gun harder against my temple, reminding me that one wrong word or sudden move will end this for good. My men are counting on me to get this right, and I don’t want to let them down.

There’s a dull ache in my side where my wounds have started to open again. They’ve started to heal, so it isn’t as dramatic as it was the first time it happened, but I can still feel blood starting to seep through my shirt.

Physical pain is just an inconvenience right now though. That’s the kind of shit I can handle all day long. What’s tearing me apart is seeing my men like this and knowing there’s not a damn thing I can do about it at the moment.

It seems that Malcolm really did learn his lesson at Noctura.

Those zip ties are cutting into their wrists tight enough to draw blood.

Every guard is laser-focused, with their weapons trained and ready.

There’s no loose grip to break free from, no moment of distraction to exploit. No miracle escape this time.

Atlas’s face is smeared with blood from whatever hit he took, but his eyes are locked on mine like he’s trying to tell me something.

Next to him, Nico’s lip is split and swelling, rage coming off of him in waves that I can practically feel.

And Killian… Jesus. Even with a gun pressed against his head, he looks ready to rip someone’s throat out with his teeth.

“What do you want?” My words come out surprisingly steady, considering the way my heart is trying to pound its way out of my chest. Whatever bullshit deal he’s about to offer, it’s going to be bad for me and worse for my men. Malcolm doesn’t do anything that doesn’t benefit him in the end.

“Since the Dark Lotus Syndicate was formed, our rules have been followed to the letter. Do you know why?”

He sounds like he’s giving a fucking Ted Talk instead of holding us at gunpoint. I keep my mouth firmly shut, which makes his jaw flex with irritation. Good.

“Because without rules, organizations like ours devolve into chaos. Into meaningless violence and petty backstabbing that tear everything apart.” He stops directly in front of me. “The rules are what separate us from common street thugs.”

“Get to the fucking point,” I hiss.

I’m pushing my luck by talking to him like this. No, I don’t fucking care anymore. Every second he wastes on this theatrical bullshit is only delaying whatever impossible choice he’s about to give me.

He’s clearly already thought this moment through to its conclusion. The only thing that remains to be seen is whether I decide to play along or die.

His eyes narrow at my tone, but that cold smile never wavers. “The point, my dear, is that rules must be followed. And the rule clearly states that for refusing to carry out your votum to Elliot, you must die.”

One of my men lets out a quiet snarl. Atlas, maybe, or Killian. I fucking hate that they’re being forced to listen to this pompous asshole deliver his speech. All they want—all they’ve ever tried to do—is to ensure my safety. Even when I gave them every reason to want me dead.

All I’ve done to repay that loyalty is to lead us into one life-threatening situation after another. This might be the end of the road for us though.

“However.” Malcolm steps closer and reaches out to touch my face, but I jerk away from his hand. “There is a way around that particular rule.”

“Yeah?” I bite out. “And what’s that?”

“Marry me.”

The words shock me into silence. It’s literally the last thing I expected him to say, and I stare at him for a suspended second, trying to process his words.

“Be my wife,” he continues, “and I can protect you from the consequences of your poor choices. No one would dare touch my wife, after all.”

I finally find my voice and manage to choke out, “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Not at all.”

Malcolm closes the distance between us with two smooth steps. The guard shifts enough to let him lean in close as his voice drops to a low murmur meant only for me.

“Let me be very clear about something. By our rules, the only life that’s technically forfeit is yours. Your men aren’t part of the Syndicate. The only thing they’ve done wrong is to follow you, ill-advised as that might have been.”

I’m starting to see where he’s going with this, and I think I might throw up.

“But if you refuse my generous offer?” He angles his head slightly, no doubt making sure I can see the cold satisfaction in his eyes. “I’ll kill them anyway. And this time, I won’t save them for last.”

Fuck. I’m definitely going to throw up.

“I’ll execute them one by one, right in front of you.

” His lips nearly brush my ear. “And I’ll make sure you have a perfect view when I put bullets in their heads.

You’ll get to watch the light fade from their eyes, knowing their blood is on your hands.

That your pride and stubbornness is what got them killed. ”

My chest feels too tight, like I can’t get enough air. The image he’s painting burns itself into my brain. My men would be bleeding out while I watch, helpless to save them. Again.

“The choice is yours, Quinn.” He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Their lives or your freedom. Choose wisely.”

I can’t let that happen. I won’t watch them die, not when I have the power to stop it. Even if stopping it means signing away my own life to this cold-blooded bastard.

“And if I say yes?” Just the thought of marrying him makes bile rise in my throat. “Then what?”

His lips curl into that predatory smile again. “Then they walk free. I have no interest in them.” He gestures dismissively at my men. “It’s you I want. Only you.”

I look at the three men I love more than my own life. Atlas, blood still dripping down his face, shaking his head frantically. Nico’s eyes wide with horror as he realizes what I’m considering. And Killian, deadly still now, watching me with an intensity that makes my chest ache.

But it’s not really a choice at all, is it? Not when all three of their lives are on the line.

“Yes.” The word comes out barely above a whisper, but it might as well be a gunshot for the way it makes my men react. They surge forward against their restraints, only to be yanked back by Malcolm’s guards.

“What was that?” Malcolm cups his ear. Fucking smug bastard.

“I said yes.” This time my voice is stronger, steadier. “But I want a minute to say goodbye first.”

He studies me for a long moment, then gives a single nod. “Fine. But don’t try anything stupid.” He gestures to one of his guys, who keeps his gun trained on me as I move toward my men. “Remember, one wrong move and they die anyway.”

I step closer to them, my heart already breaking at the rage and desperation I can see in their eyes. How the fuck do I say goodbye to the only three people who have ever truly understood me?

“I’m accepting Malcolm’s offer,” I say, keeping my voice cool and even.

Shock registers on all three of their faces, and Nico rears back like he’s been slapped.

“What the fuck?” he growls.

Atlas shakes his head. “Like hell you are!”

“Siren, no. You can’t?—”

Their raised voices blend together, all three of them talking at once.

“I can ,” I say, my voice clear and steady as I cut over their objections. “And I will.”

This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but I force the words out anyway. I have to make this look real. Malcolm is watching every move I make, and listening to every word. One slip-up, one hint that this isn’t genuine, and he’ll put bullets in their heads just out of spite.

And the only way to keep these stubborn, protective men from getting themselves killed trying to save me is to make them think I don’t need saving.

“You have to understand, it’s just business.” I shrug, as if my heart isn’t being ripped to shreds. “This is the better choice for me. Malcolm can offer me things you can’t. Protection. Power. A real seat at the table instead of always fighting from the outside.”

The stunned looks on their faces cut me deeper than the knife wounds I’m still sporting. Atlas looks like I just punched him in the gut. Killian’s expression goes completely blank, which is somehow worse than rage.

But Nico? There’s nothing but pure fury blazing in his eyes as he stares me down.

“Bullshit.” He spits the word at me. “You don’t mean that. This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” I lie, hating myself for every word.

“At the end of the day, I’m a survivor, and I’m doing what I have to do to survive.

To get ahead. Malcolm runs this city, and I’m tired of fighting that reality.

” I pause and do my best imitation of Malcolm’s cold smile.

“Maybe it’s time to be smart instead of stubborn. ”

“Don’t…” Nico’s voice cracks, and it takes everything in me not to break. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what? Don’t take the best offer I’m likely to get? Sorry, but I’m done playing in the minor leagues with?—”

I can’t even finish getting the words past the lump in my throat, but it doesn’t matter. The damage is already done, and the hurt that flashes across their faces nearly breaks me. But I have to keep the lie going and I have to make them believe it.

It’s the only way to keep them alive.

“You’re lying,” Nico growls, straining against his restraints. “This isn’t about survival or power. It’s never been about that for you.”

“You of all people should understand.” Why won’t he just let this happen? Why does he have to make me love him more with every word out of his mouth? “You’ve been a leader. You know what it means to make the hard choices. To do what needs to be done.”