Page 29 of Consort of the Crime Queen

"Come up to my study."

He's here in minutes, and I can see from the look in his eye that he's expecting a dressing down. "I wanted to discuss our...conversation earlier," I begin.

"No need to explain, Boss. You're in charge. I'll fall in line, whatever rank you wanna give me."

His acquiescence only makes me feel worse. "That's not why I called up here. Listen—where Aurora is concerned, I'm not always…well, rational. I over-reacted."

Ricky is stunned speechless by my admission. He recovers quickly, though, tone gentle when he replies, "Hey, we've all got our soft spots. I get it."

"I don't like to show weakness in front of the Syndicate."

Ricky makes a derisive noise. "Boss, you're the strongest person I know. Ain't no one would accuse you of being weak."

"Perhaps." I pause to gather my thoughts, which turn inevitably to my father, to the way I was so quick to roll over and show my belly when he dangled Aurora in front of me. I am weak where she's concerned. "You may have noticed I overcompensate a little," I say with irony, glancing up at Ricky. "I squash any perceived signs of weakness."

"Even loyalty," Ricky finishes knowingly.

"Yes." I smile despite myself. "I should never have punished you for caring about our people. That's the kind of loyalty I want to inspire. The kind that will topple my father—and my brother."

I take a breath, steeling myself to show vulnerability—something I've trained myself to avoid at all costs. "What I'm trying to say is...you're important to me, Ricky. Not just as a lieutenant. As…as family. Thank you for still being here after all these years."

Ricky sucks in a sharp breath and clears his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is thick with emotion. "Aw, hell, Boss. You tryin' to make me cry over here? Course I got your back. That's what family's for."

I exhale in relief. "Good. Then we'll have no further misunderstandings." I infuse my tone with renewed authority. "You are reinstated as lieutenant, effective immediately. I'll need you by my side for what's to come."

"You got it, Boss."

I dismiss him, feeling infinitely lighter. Opening up goes against every single survival instinct I possess, but this is the kind of vulnerability required for loyalty. My father rules through fear and intimidation. That's what I learned from him, and it's how I set up the Syndicate.

But true loyalty comes not through fear—or even money.

It comes from…

God, I hate to admit it. But when I think of the people I am most loyal to—Lyssa, Mrs. Graves, Ricky, and of course, Aurora—that loyalty comes from love.

And love requires trust. Aurora's taught me that.

The thought of her sends a now familiar warmth blooming in my chest. I've lived my whole life behind impenetrable walls, unwilling to let anyone near. But somehow, without my even realizing it, that brilliant, maddening, beautiful girl slipped right through.

She's changed me. When I'm with her, the world seems brighter. The cold hollowness inside me thaws, just a fraction, but thaws nonetheless.

And I want more of that feeling.

Over the years there have been parts of myself I've had to excise to survive. Aurora makes me wonder if some small shreds can be salvaged. If I can find a way to balance the ruthless mercenary queen with the heart I've kept buried.

The heart that might be worthy of someone like Aurora.

I smile to myself, a foolish, private smile. Aurora has proven herself extraordinary. She may have come here as a captive, but she's evolved into so much more. An equal. A partner.

Certainly not bait, as I have used her in the past. A wave of shame washes over me as I think about dressing her up for that meeting with Nero, where it all went to shit. I treated her like some trinket, or a doll, and Ricky was right.

She saved my life that day.

I don't deserve her. But I want to.

Aurora is thrilled at my changing hours; Lyssa less so, though she hasn't said anything about it—yet. I can tell she's thinking it, though. I'm really trying, but I can't help yawning as I scroll through my phone during the first meal after waking the next afternoon.

The text comes through just as I can feel the caffeine start to work its magic. It's from Johnny de Luca, terse and vague as always: Got something for you. Usual place, one hour.

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