Page 93 of Royal Deception

It isn’t until I get back to Miranda’s that I let myself cry. I can’t believe I almost saidI love youto him. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s a bastard and he’ll always be a bastard. I don’t even know if Rory is capable of love.

I’m going to stop letting him get to me like this. I’m going to put that bastard completely out of my mind.

39

RORY

Isit there, staring at the door long after Clary’s gone, my jaw clenched so tightly it aches. The air still carries the faintest trace of her scent—vanilla and something softer, sweeter. Something hers. Something I just let walk out of my life because I couldn’t give her what she needed.

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling hard.

Fucking hell. I can’t believe I fucked up with heragain. How am I so good at doing that?

I know what she wants. I can see it in her eyes.

And if I’m honest with myself, if I’m really honest, it’s the same damned thing that I want. But the words won’t come. I don’t know how to say them, how to take off that armor I’ve worn my whole life.

A bitter scoff leaves me as I finally reach for my phone, turning it back on. I expect to see missed messages from Clary. Some sign that she’s regretting walking away. But there’s nothing.

What I do have is a message from Liam.

Liam: Picked up Lev. We’re at Clover & Thistle. He’s ready to talk.

Good. At least something tonight is going my way.

I stand, rolling the tension from my shoulders as I dial Kellan. He picks up after the first ring.

“What?” he answers, sounding impatient.

“Meet me at Clover & Thistle,” I say, my voice sharper than I mean it to be. “Lucky too. We need to handle this.”

A pause. Then, “You good?”

“Just get there.”

I hang up before he can push further.

Because no—I’mnotgood. But there’s nothing I can do about that right now.

Right now, I need to focus.

And Lev? He’s about to tell meeverythingI need to know.

The Clover & Thistle is quieter than usual, the lull between dinner and the late-night crowd settling in. The scents of whiskey and old wood fill the air, and in the back corner, Liam sits across from Lev, a fresh pint in front of him, untouched. Lev, for his part, looks like absolute hell. Sweat beads on his brow, his face is pale, and his jaw is clenched so tightly it might snap.

Good. He should be uncomfortable.

Kellan and Lucky arrive just behind me, both moving with the same quiet, predatory energy. Lev’s gaze flickers to them, then to me, but he doesn’t say a word.

I slide into the seat next to Liam, steepling my hands in front of me. “So,” I say, my tone deceptively even. “Talk.”

Lev exhales sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “I already told your man,” he mutters, nodding toward Liam. “Anatoly’s been bleeding money for a while now. He spread himself too thin—too many business ventures, too many risks. He thought moving into your territory would help balance the books.”

“Risky play,” Lucky muses, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t pay off, did it?”

Lev’s jaw tightens, but he keeps going. “No. When you all fought back, a lot of good men got caught in the crossfire. It made Anatoly look weak. He lost trust. Influence.”

Kellan scoffs. “And we’re supposed to care about that?”