Page 14 of Consort of the Crime Queen

"I've never felt anything like this."

It's as much a confession to myself as to her. Putting this sentiment into words somehow makes it real, undeniable. A vulnerability I can't take back.

Lyssa nods slowly, scrutinizing me. She smirks. "Who would've guessed the big bad Hades would be brought down by love?"

I scowl, because the words are too much an echo of my father's, but there's no heat behind it. Love. Is that really what this maelstrom inside me is? I suppose no other word fits.

I love Aurora. Unwisely, dangerously. And it's beyond my power to stop.

"Then we'll get her back." Lyssa rises smoothly to her feet. "But not by giving up the Syndicate. And we'll make your bastard father regret the day he tried messing with us. But first, I need some sleep. And so do you, Hadria. You haven't slept since…since she was taken."

She's right. I haven't been able to rest, haven't even thought about it.

But as we both exit my study and head back into the war room, the door bursts open, and a panting guard rushes through. "Boss," he says in relief, though his expression remains troubled. "We've all been looking for you."

For God's sake, what is it now?

CHAPTER 8

Aurora

I'm so bored that I've begun comparing prisons.

Elysium had a lot of cons. The never-ending darkness. The unpleasant architecture—no matter how much it suited Hadria, I always felt oppressed by all those modern, stark walls and polished concrete, though I suppose that was the point of the place.

Here, the architecture is much more pleasant, and the windows aren't shuttered over. If I wanted to, I could sit all day in the patch of sunshine that comes in the window, moving like a cat to follow it across the floor as the earth turns.

If I wanted to. But I don't want to. Sunshine is the least of my concerns right now.

Because at least at Elysium I could leave my room whenever I wanted. Here, in Don Imperioli's estate, the door to my bedroom suite remains locked at all times, and no one comes in to visit—no one except the surly housekeeper who is only getting surlier as time goes on and I refuse to eat.

I stare at the four walls of my suite, lavish yet devoid of any personal touches. Silk curtains, antique furniture, the adjoining bathroom larger than my bedroom back home when I still lived there—and yet I'd give anything at all to be back even there, under my father's roof.

How long have I been here now, awaiting my fate? Time is blurring together in endless monotony, measured only by the jittery pounding of my heart each time footsteps approach. Don Imperioli came to see me earlier, to tell me he was going out tonight, meeting with Hadria.

"She bargains for you, girl," he said to me. "Should I allow her to take you back? What do you think, hm?"

I've given up trying to pretend with him. I said nothing, only stared back at him. He didn't like it. I think he's as cruel as Nero in his own way, though less physically violent. He wanted my reaction, and I didn't give it to him. So when he left, he threw one more barb my way: "You must smile more while you are here, little one. The time is coming when you will forget how."

I tense up again now as I hear footsteps again. Don Imperioli once more? No, too quick. And they don't sound like the housekeeper's measured tread. No, they sound?—

The door slams open to reveal Nero Imperioli, posture slack as he leans up against the doorframe, eyes glassy. The pungent smell of booze hits my nose even from this far away. His suit is rumpled, shirt half untucked.

Fear leaps in my throat.

He's followed by several house guards, who try to pull him back, but he shakes them off. "You dare to put your hands on me?" he slurs to them, shoving them away. "I'll have your heads for this disrespect!"

It would probably sound more threatening if he wasn't swaying on his feet.

One of the house guards sends a nervous glance my way, and I'm out of the bed in a flash, wishing like hell I wasn't wearing the pajamas Mama brought in for me.

The guard steps around Nero, trying to get his attention, though those dark, stony eyes are fixed on me. And a vile, wet grin splits his face. "Sir," the guard begins firmly, "Don Imperioli instructed that the lady remain in isolation until the wedding."

Nero's hand lashes out, seizing a fistful of the guard's shirt. "Do you know who I am? I am Nero fucking Imperioli! And I got a long, long memory, buddy. If you don't get outta my way, I'll have you gutted like a pig when I take over!"

His face pales. Wordlessly, he steps aside, and to my horror they all retreat and close the door behind them.

Nero's grin widens and he staggers toward me. "There's my blushing bride."

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