Page 57 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

My Kings shift slightly behind me, each processing this new information. I can practically hear their minds racing, trying to figure out what code we could have missed along the way.

Marcus frowns, no doubt running through every interaction we've had in the past months. Ares maintains his perfect model's pose, but I catch the slight tension in his jaw. Ren's playboy smile slips just a fraction, while Domino – still dripping water onto the marble floor – looks like he's questioning every decision that led him to this moment.

But I just smile, already turning away from the stage with deliberate grace. My Kings move instantly to follow, their synchronization making several people gasp.

"Where are you going?" The same diamond-draped woman demands, her voice climbing an octave in shock. "You can't just?—"

I pause, looking back over my shoulder with a smile that makes her take an involuntary step backward. My gaze travels from her to the three men still standing on stage – these supposed masters of our fate who thought they controlled every piece on the board.

"We do have representation," I say softly, though my voice carries in the sudden silence. "And you can happily let him know of our victory as the official Ruthless Kings of Obsessionwith their loyal, undefeated, badass of a Ruthless Queen of Obsession."

Understanding dawns in Saint Joaquin's eyes first, followed quickly by something that might be genuine respect. My father's laugh holds real appreciation, while Mr. Leighton's slight smile speaks volumes.

I turn away again, but make sure my final words ring clear through the stunned ballroom:

"The Blind One sends his regards and our blessings."

The chaos that erupts behind us is absolutely beautiful.

After all, what's a Queen without her dramatic exit?

When Masks Shatter

~GEMINI~

The descent into the private dressing rooms beneath the ballroom feels like sinking underwater. Each step sends ripples through my consciousness as Hannah's medicine begins to fade, reality's edges softening like watercolors bleeding into parchment. The voices in my head, temporarily silenced by chemical clarity, start stirring again – whispers becoming murmurs becoming screams.

What did I just do up there?

The Blind One's name had fallen from my lips with absolute certainty, though I couldn't explain why I knew it would carry such weight. Another fragment of myself I can't quite grasp, like trying to catch smoke with bare hands. The shocked faces in the crowd, the way even Saint Joaquin seemed momentarily thrown off balance – it all suggested power I don't understand but somehow knew to wield.

"I have to say," Ren breaks the tense silence as we reach the bottom of the stairs, his usual playboy facade cracking slightly at the edges, "that was quite the performance up there. Though I'm curious how you knew about?—"

The rest of his sentence disappears in a blur of motion as Ares moves with devastating speed. His fist connects with Domino's jaw hard enough to spray blood across the expensive wallpaper. The perfect model's mask shatters completely, revealing something dark and feral beneath the designer suits and camera-ready smile.

Time seems to fragment as everyone moves at once. Ren grabs Domino before he can retaliate, while Marcus wraps his arms around Ares's chest, struggling to contain rage that seems to radiate from him in waves.

"You fucking murderer!" Ares snarls, fighting against Marcus's hold with strength I've never seen him display. Gone is the careful composure of the runway, replaced by pure, animalistic fury. "You shot him! You put two bullets in our brother and left him to die alone in the rain!"

Blood drips steadily from Domino's split lip, mixing with the water still soaking his ruined clothes. "Let me go," he growls, though the words lack their usual bite. The fight in the warehouse, the emotional toll of the ceremony – it's all catching up to him. His legs tremble with exhaustion even as he tries to break Ren's grip. "You don't understand?—"

"Understand what?" Ares's voice cracks with something raw and painful. "That you murdered one of your own? That Zander trusted you, protected you, called you brother?—"

The pain in my head spikes sharply enough to make the room spin. Memories flash like strobe lights:Zander bleeding out on wet concrete. Zander's last kiss tasting of blood and rain. Zander's voice growing weaker as darkness claimed him.

"We need to take this somewhere else," Ren suggests, still maintaining his hold on Domino despite obvious strain. "This place isn't secure, and we're not out of danger yet. Too many eyes, too many ears?—"

"Already handled." Hannah's voice cuts through the chaos from where she's been silently observing. She holds up a small device that glows with subtle blue light. "Security systems are compromised, cameras are on a loop, and this room is completely soundproof." A small, dangerous smile plays at her lips. "Amazing what you can accomplish with the right tools and proper motivation."

"Ares," Marcus's voice carries that quiet authority that somehow cuts through rage and reason alike, "you need to calm down. At least Zander's alive."

The words hit like a physical blow, stopping everyone mid-motion. Domino and I gasp in perfect synchronization, both of us freezing as the implication sinks in.

"What..." My voice emerges barely above a whisper, hope and disbelief warring in my chest.

"He's alive?" Domino echoes, looking as stunned as I feel.

Ren glances between us, eyebrows raised in something between amusement and concern. "Okay, that was legitimately creepy. Are we absolutely sure they're not actually blood related?"

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