Page 52 of Cold Heir

“You believe him?” I asked, confused because the statement was a stark contradiction to his reaction to Roman a moment ago. “You truly believe Corina is Blackbird?”

Levi’s brow quirked as if he thought I’d be naïvenotto. “I mean, don’t weallagree that would make sense?” he confirmed with a short chuckle. “The evidence is overwhelming, actually. Even if there weren’t a confession.”

“So refuting Roman’s claim was just an act?” Silas questioned.

“Well, I couldn’t very well lethimknow I believed he was on to something,” Levi reasoned. “So, I thought a bit of deflection might do the trick. With any luck, we atleastmade him doubt himself. Maybe that’ll keep him circling the idea a while, wondering if he’s buying into Jon’s bull too easily.”

“And in the meantime?” I asked.

“In the meantime, we need a solid plan B,” Silas interjected. “If Roman isn’t going to seal the bond, we have to at least hold up our end, ensure that the Dynasty continues to believe we’re making progress, make certain they know we didn’t lie to them. When we made the oath, the three of us here had every intention on fulfilling it. That’s our saving grace,” he reassured us.

We started back toward the study. “So, we’re supposed to come up with a plan B?” Levi asked. “Silly me didn’t realize there was ever a plan A. Seemed we were just making a mess of things as we went along,” he laughed.

“More or less,” I confirmed. “But now the stakes are a bit higher. We now know Jon has proof, and proof means he has power.”

We entered the room and I closed the door behind us.

“Then … perhaps we’re looking at this wrong,” Levi proposed, bringing both Silas’ and my attention to him. “Maybe plan B isn’t about pacifying the Dynasty. Maybe our new objective should be more along the lines of a preventative measure.”

Silas crossed both arms over his chest, leveling a grave stare on Levi. “What do you have in mind.”

Levi peered up from the thought. “I think we should focus on silencing our biggest threat—Jon Carlisle.”

Chapter Eighteen

Corina

As strange as it was to admit, this night out was timed perfectly.

Usually, when life threw me a curveball, I responded by shutting down, brooding until I figured out how to fix it. But tonight—despite the letter the Magistrates sent, despite still not knowing where Spencer disappeared to—I was going to take this date with Julian for what it was.

A chance to clear my head.

Tomorrow night, Silas and I had a big job ahead of us, one that could either go really well, or really badly. However, with several days of planning under our belts, I was confident in our ability to get in and out of there unscathed. And much to my surprise, he seemed to believe the same.

“Ouch!” I was yanked from my thoughts when the brush Elle swept through my hair hit a snarl.

She offered an embarrassed smile from the mirror before me. “Oops. Sorry.”

I took a breath, and despite the sharp pain, I smirked at her.

She loved this sort of thing. Just like Liv. She twisted and pinned strands to her heart’s content before finally releasing me from the seat I was practically nailed to for the past two hours. It had taken that long to beat my hair and face into submission. Eventually, both fit the vision she had in mind, and I was set free.

When we returned from our walk, she hung the dress she picked out in my closet. She insisted I couldn’t even peek at it before now—a fact that admittedly left me a little nervous. So, needless to say, I watched intently as she rushed to grab it.

“Turn, please,” she requested, waiting until my back was to her before unzipping the opaque garment bag she held. I fidgeted a bit, anticipating what was to come.

“Hands up,” was the next command I received, and when I complied, a swatch of black material was eased over my head.

Yes … a swatch.

I’d seen biggersocks.

“Elle, what the—”

“It’s sexy, right?” she sang, her expression showing just how pleased she was with the ensemble.

“It’s a bit much, don’t you think?” My voice was shrill, but I was careful not to hurt her feelings.

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