“A girl on the third floor was causing problems for Ivy.”
Shit. I know that voice.
“Did you take care of her, Synder?” the king’s concern is so deep in his tone that it nearly sounds endearing.
If you didn’t know him.
“She won’t be coming back,” Synder confirms.
“Who... Who did we assign as her roommate? Anyone that can help look after her?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
If he says my name, it’s over. Leavon will remember me and the year we spent together. He’ll remember the way I fled at dawn without so much as a goodbye or fuck you or anything of the sort.
“Bellatrix Cuore.”
My heart’s beating is paused indefinitely as he says my last name that matches Ivy’s.
This is how I die. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to—
“Huh. Will this Bellatrix be a good protector for Ivy?” The king asks with total fucking disregard for our past relationship.
“That motherfucker,” I hiss.
How dare he not have the half a brain to remember the woman whose entire life he ruined? The sixteen-year-old girl who he raped, used, and abused!
But that’s the thing. I’m just a number among all the women he has destroyed. I’m just a second on a clock, passing by, never to be thought of again.
Once more, though, I hang on unspoken words. I know Synder has looked into me. Does he know I was here just years ago? Will he tell his Brotherhood of his suspicions?
“She seems dense but capable.”
“What the fuck!” I hiss once more.
“Good. Good.” The king nods his empty little head, and I’m seething to slam my fist into his perfect nose and perfect teeth. “Bring her to me.”
My mouth falls open, and my boots stumble over themselves in the darkness. My stealth is a forgotten trait, and my mind reels with only one thought: Get. The. Fuck. Out.
White light crashes over me. It freezes over my face. And I lock eyes with the one man I can’t seem to get away from.
Synder’s head tilts as he studies me and my red-handedness.
With parted lips, I wait for him to call out to Leavon. I wait for the jig to be up and for my head to be on a chopping block.
Except it never happens.
With a smooth sweep of his hand, he closes the door behind him. A deep darkness falls across us, and I’m tempted to flee right here and now and hope by morning he thinks this bizarre moment was just a hallucination brought on by the gasses down in this fucking dump of a torture chamber.
A hot breath washes over my ear, and his sudden closeness alone sends shivers racing down my arms.
“Do you value your life so little?”
I blink at that and try not to think too much about the way his bare chest brushes against the curve of my breasts. My nipples harden beneath the thin shirt.
“What do you mean?” I ask honestly.
I value my life plenty. I certainly valued it enough to get the hell out of here once before.