Andre
“ANDRE.” VICTOR’S SHARP voice drags my attention his way.
He lifts his brows at me, like he’s waiting for an answer.
An answer to a question I wasn’t paying attention to and have no intention of asking him to repeat.
I turn back to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, looking over the city I worked tirelessly to make my own. “How long have you lived here, Victor?”
My second doesn’t immediately answer, which isn’t a surprise.
I don’t normally ask him questions about his life. It’s irrelevant to me.
Usually.
“I was born here.”
“Were you born into The Association as well?”
Another pause. “I’m third generation.”
It’s the answer I expected. Victor knows everyone and everyone knows him. It’s why I chose him to be my second when—
I clear my throat as I face him. “It’s in your blood then.”
Victor barely nods. “You could say that.”
I wish it was in mine. Then maybe I would have had an easier time claiming my place as head of the controlling division. Maybe it wouldn’t have taken so long.
Maybe then it wouldn’t be Victor standing here in my office this evening, wanting to discuss the fact that Frederick’s more determined than ever to take what I rightfully earned.
“What are we going to do about Frederick, Andre?” He asks it like the answer isn’t a simple one.
“Kill him.” I turn back to the window as Victor scoffs his disagreement.
“You can’t just kill the head of a competing division.” Victor’s words are filled with passion, completely different from the calm, collected advice Sebastian used to offer me. “That will start a war.”
“A war we would win.” It’s a fact I’m completely confident in. My division is the best in New York, possibly in the country.
It’s why I am where I am.
“But think of what we could lose in the process.” Victor’s pleading tone grates on my nerves.
“I don’t care what we lose.” I turn to face him, daring him to keep challenging me. “I care what we gain.”
It’s not the full truth.
I only really care about what I gain. The power I collect.
Victor’s lips turn down in a tight frown and he looks at me like I disgust him. “I knew you were cold.” He turns and walks out, pausing at the door. “But I didn’t realize you were completely heartless.”
“You should have.” I don’t get the response all the way out before the door slams closed between us, shutting me into the solitude I usually seek out.
I avoided my office all day yesterday, choosing instead to spend my time out in the city, checking warehouses and the shipments that filled them. Reminding anyone who might be questioning it that the world we move within belongs to me.
And that it will stay that way.
I turn back to look out over the lights, running my thumb over the cool marble of the white queen in my palm, unable to keep my mind from finding its way back to the woman who stood in this same place not so long ago.