Page 23 of Sinister

I sob into his shoulder, hot desperate tears of relief. He’s okay. He’s alive. The pain in my chest eases as he whispers in my ear. “It’s okay. Shh, Wren. Sinister is here, and no one will hurt you again. You’re safe.”

Epilogue

Sinister

One Month Later

Ilean on my elbow, staring down at Wren. My hand runs up and down her back, soothing her while she sleeps. I’ll never forget the way she looked the day she came to rescue me, all fierce and murderous.

It still irks me that Richard got the jump on me, but he came with a team of men that he dismissed after he took the compound. My chest aches with the memory of Aidan’s passing, but it may have been a blessing in disguise. I wish he hadn’t suffered such a violent death, but it was a quicker and perhaps more merciful one than the one that awaited him.

Wren shifts and mumbles under her breath before burrowing into my chest. She’s the lone light in the dark, the whole reason I continue to breathe. She’s stood by me every step of the way—planning and executing Aidan’s funeral, cementing my place as the head of his organization, and coming up with plans for our future.

Because, let’s face it, there is no future without her.

We stand outsidethe door leading to the restaurant’s kitchen with our backs pressed against the wall. Inside, chefs bustle about, finishing the five-course meal for the group of eighteen men gathered inside. They booked the entire restaurant for their party, and their obnoxious laughter rises above the clatter of pots and pans.

I lean over Wren and place a staccato of knocks on the door. Moments later, the five chefs exit with their heads turned down and file into a waiting bus. Carlos, after surviving the attack on the compound, wanted in on our little adventure, and offered to drive the chefs home.

Wren and I slip inside, the scent of spices and cooking meat assaulting our senses. I pull out the glass bottle The Chemist gave me. Inside is an odorless, tasteless poison that induces terrifying hallucinations, followed by bleeding from the eyes, nose, and ears. As it works through your system, it destroys your veins and melts your organs, leading to an agonizing death within twenty minutes of digesting it.

I add it to every dish, and for good measure, dump some into the water pitchers too. When I’m done, I signal for the seven waiters to come in. The Duke allowed us to borrow some of her men, who were all on board with dressing up in tuxedos and moonlighting at waiters.

Six of them disappear into the restaurant with their trays of food and water, while the seventh slips around to the front and bolts the doors with heavy chains. Once they’re served, we leave out the back and secure those doors as well.

Wren whoops and does a little happy dance before flinging herself at me. “We did it.”

Ichuckle and bop her on the nose. “We did. Want to watch?” She scoffs and grabs my hand, entwining our fingers. We take a leisurely stroll around the outside of the building, coming to a stop at the front where large picture windows dominate the walls.

Governor White stands in front of the table with a glass in his hand as he gives a toast. The seated men raise theirs in return—some of whom were frequent visitors at Grammy Lockwood’s Home For Girls.

We watch as they spoon their poisoned soup into their mouths, and it isn’t long before the first sign appears. A man throws himself out of his chair, his mouth open on a scream, pointing at the opposite wall.

The hallucinations have begun.

One man punches another, while one huddles on the floor, rocking back and forth. Governor White falls off his chair, clutching his chest. Wren watches with wide-eyed wonder, squeezing my fingers so hard, she cuts off the circulation.

I spin her around before dipping her and kissing her deeply. The windows behind us rattle with the fists of the men pounding against it. When I straighten her, Wren’s pupils are dilated, and her chest heaves to catch her breath.

My arm slides down hers, and I take her hand in mine. She glances down, puzzled, her eyes widening when I slip the black diamond ring on her finger. Her head snaps up, her eyes filled with tears as her gaze searches mine.

My throat tightens. I have a hundred things I could say.You are my world. My heart. My everything. Stay by my side and be my queen.

Instead, all that pops out is, “Well, you told me to put a ring on it.”

A broken sob spills from her mouth. With thecacophony of screams in the background playing our song, she lifts her mouth to mine and seals our fates with a kiss.