Page 283 of Pretty Ruthless Monsters: Complete Series

“Fuck you,” Owen snarls. “You think your little rebellion was worth this? Worth dying for?”

Rafael shifts in his cage, finally finding his voice. “He’s right. We had a good thing going before?—”

“A good thing?” Cassandra cuts him off with such force that we all turn to look at her.

She’s on her feet now, with her blood-matted hair hanging in her face.

But her eyes are clear and blazing with anger.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What part of it was good, exactly? The part where Malcolm made us his puppets? Or the part where he dangled our dead loved ones over our heads as bait to lure us into his twisted little dictatorship?”

Rafael opens his mouth, but Cassandra isn’t finished.

“We’ve all been trapped in this shit for way too long,” she says, gripping the bars of her cage.

“And let’s be honest—it was always going to end this way.

Malcolm took someone from each of us before he offered us a place in the Dark Lotus Syndicate, and he was always going to take more.

It’s what he does because it’s all he knows how to do. ”

She turns to look at me. “At least Quinn had the guts to get out on her terms, to try to take him out instead of just rolling over and letting Malcolm decide when and how to destroy us.”

I feel a rush of gratitude toward her that I hadn’t expected. I barely know Cassandra aside from our handful of interactions at Syndicate meetings, but her words hit home.

Owen scowls at her. “Is that what you really think? That this suicide mission was our best option?”

“It’s what Imogen thought,” Cassandra says. “She believed in this plan. She believed we could win our freedom back if we stood up to him together. And we would’ve if Elliot hadn’t sold us out.”

The mention of Imogen’s name changes something in Owen’s face. The tension in his jaw doesn’t exactly disappear, but it shifts, changing from rage into something else. Grief, maybe. Or regret.

“Imogen is dead,” he says flatly, but most of the fight has drained from his voice.

“Yeah.” Cassandra nods. “And she died trying to free herself from Malcolm’s control. Are you going to make her death meaningless by giving up now?”

Owen doesn’t answer right away. He sits down heavily on the floor of his cage and scrubs a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he mutters. Then, after a moment, he nods. Just a small movement, but it’s enough.

“So what now?” Rafael asks, looking around at all of us. “How the hell do we get out of here?”

“Does anyone know where ‘here’ even is?” Atlas asks, scanning the room.

Cassandra squints up at the ceiling, then around at the walls before her eyes widen slightly. “This is Elliot’s place,” she says. “One of his warehouses on the east side of town, near the river.”

“You’re sure?” Nico asks.

She nods. “I’ve been here before. Not in this part of it, but I recognize the structure. Elliot conducts most of his business out of this complex.”

“What kind of business?” Killian asks, although his tone tells me he already knows the answer.

“Human trafficking,” I answer. My stomach churns as I look around at the cages with new understanding. “That’s what these are for, isn’t it? For the people he sells.”

Cassandra nods grimly. “For the ones in transit. He gathers them here before they’re shipped out to wherever they’re going.”

The thought makes my skin go cold. How many terrified people have sat where I’m sitting right now, not knowing what was going to happen to them? How many were begging for a rescue that never came?

“Jesus,” Rafael mutters, looking around with a new awareness. “I knew his operation was sketchy as fuck, but I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t want to know,” Cassandra finishes for him. “None of us did. That’s how Malcolm kept us all in line. We each did our own thing and didn’t ask questions about what the others were doing.”

I think about the phone with the panic button Willow gave me. I hit it before they drugged me, I’m sure of it. But what good will it do? The ping would only have let Willow and her men know where we were at that moment, not where we’ve been taken.

If Willow and her men went to the hookah bar looking for us, they’d find nothing but bullet holes and blood stains by now. Malcolm’s men would have cleaned up everything else.

Even if they somehow figured out that we’d been moved to one of Elliot’s properties, how would they know which one? And what if we’re moved again before they can find us?

The sound of a heavy door opening somewhere above us cuts through our conversation. Multiple sets of footsteps echo on what must be metal stairs, getting closer.

“They’re coming,” Cassandra whispers.

I lock eyes with each of my men, trying to draw strength from their presence even though we’re all caged like fucking animals. Atlas gives me a small nod—steady and calm. Nico’s eyes burn with intensity, and Killian’s expression is pure, cold determination.

Malcolm appears first, with Elliot right on his heels like a good little lapdog. Both are still in the same clothes they wore at the hookah bar—a safe bet that not too much time has passed between then and now.

Malcolm stops at the entrance to the room and looks at us like he’s examining livestock. His eyes find mine last, and the hatred I see there is matched only by the fury churning in my gut.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I do hope the accommodations are suitable. Some of you will probably be here for a little while.”

Some of us. The fact that he only hints at the threat makes it even more ominous.

“Fuck you,” Atlas growls, and Malcolm’s gaze shifts to him.

“Ah, yes. Quinn’s faithful attack dogs.” He walks slowly toward Atlas’s cage. “Growling and snapping, but ultimately powerless. Just like you always were.”

“What do you want, Malcolm?” I ask, not willing to let him focus all his attention on my men. “Why not just kill us at the hookah bar?”

He turns back to me, his smirk turning to a slow smile that spreads across his face. “Because, my dear, there are rules. The Dark Lotus Syndicate has a code, and that code must be upheld. Even in times of rebellion.”

“Rules?” Cassandra laughs bitterly. “Since when do you care about rules? You break them whenever it suits you.”

“I adapt them,” Malcolm corrects her. “But the core remains the same. And the core states very clearly that betrayal is punishable by death.” He looks around at all of us. “For betrayal to the Dark Lotus Syndicate, all of your lives are forfeit.”

My jaw clenches. I’ve never wanted to kill someone as badly as I want to kill him right now. “So you’re going to kill us all?” I ask, forcing the words out.

Malcolm’s smile widens, cruel and vicious in the dim light. “Yes.” He pauses. “But I’m not in any hurry.”

He turns to look at Elliot, who’s been standing silently at his side. “We’ll have a little fun first.”