Page 11 of Fierce Monarch

What the fuck?

“Give her some time.” I whirled around to find Grey leaning against the wall, frowning at the handle just like I was.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice so she couldn’t hear through the door. “Obviously, she’s struggling, but this is important.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face, and I realized for the first time he wasn’t fully dressed. The man was in holey sweats, for fuck’s sake. He hadn’t shaved, and the slightly unkempt tilt of his collar told me he’d been pulling at it. Staring at him, I had to wonder if this was his version of a breakdown.

Where Mari isolated herself, Grey fell apart. No doubt when she opened the door for good, he’d be back on his axis soon after. The two of them were too connected for it not to happen. But what did we do in the meantime while our biggest players were out of commission?

You step up. You’re the underboss.

Fuck me running.

He jerked his eyes away eventually, turning back to me. “She needs time. We’ll deal with this on our own.”

“Is that a good idea?” I looked back at the door with more than a little reluctance. “I can’t lie to her again.”

I had already been on my last shot before Nate, but I knew if she found out I lied again—hell, if she thought I’d withheld something from her—that was it. She’d dump me faster than I could say her name, and she’d never look at me that way again. I’d have to watch her feelings wither on the vine right in front of my eyes. It sounded like torture.

“It won’t come to that. Besides, it’s not like you didn’t tell her first.” When he saw I still wasn’t convinced, he sighed. “She can’t handle anything else right now, Dominic. We’ll take care of this for her, and when she’s ready, we’ll loop her in. No lying, no cheating, no secrets. All you have to do is play double agent.”

“To what end?”

He looked at the door again before heading toward the kitchen, beckoning me to follow with a nod. “The only reason Joaquin’s still alive is the fact that he’s the next in line for the throne. If Mari killed him on our word alone, it would look worse for her.”

Taking out the competition wasn’t unheard of—again, that was what most Marcosas did to earn their throne—but in this case, it would look more like killing the opposition to prevent them from removing her than a protective move. “So we just let him think he’s won?”

“For now, yes. We want him gone, we need proof. Find it, and we’ll tell her together.”

I wasn’t so sure that would work, but Greyson knew Mari better than I did, and I had to trust that he knew best in this too.

“This better work,” I said softly. “I don’t want to lose her.”

“I don’t want that either,” Grey agreed. “She’s already lost too much.”

Chapter Four

Greyson

The cheerful knock came the next morning when the sun wasn’t even up.

“Come on, cousin. Let me in.” Cameron’s singsong voice barely reached through the door. “I brought you presents from our travels.”

I wasn’t sure presents were going to help, but I was pretty sure that Cameron would. Whatever we did, whatever went down, Mari found safety in her cousins, and Cameron was the last man standing. God, I hope this works.

I pulled open the door, nodding to the dining room, where she stared into her cup of coffee the same way she had for the last twenty minutes.

Instantly, all that peppy cheer was gone, replaced by nothing but worry. Pitching his voice low, he asked, “What the hell happened to her?”

“I’ll let her explain.” I took the bags out of his hand, putting them on the kitchen counter. Mari was keeping this as quiet as possible despite Joaquin’s interference, and I didn’t want to step on her toes. She’d give her cousin whatever he needed to know, and that was it. “Just be gentle. It’s been a rough few days.”

With a nod of pure resolution, he plopped down on a chair, snatched her coffee, and took a sip, grimacing at the no-doubt cold liquid. “You look like a zombie.”

“Is that a compliment?” she asked, voice raspy with disuse.

“It wasn’t supposed to be. Care to tell me why I’m not allowed to go home?” He asked it casually, but the way he glanced back at me said he was trying to be gentle. He just had no clue he’d slapped his hand onto a bomb.

Mari looked over at me, a fleeting wish that I could fix this crossing her face before she threw her shoulders back. I stayed silent as she explained the meeting, Cash and Nate. The pain I could feel floating through the room was a blade digging into my own side, and knowing Mari was hurting ate at me.

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