Page 38 of The Devil's Pawn

“No later than you,” he says.

I nod and sigh. “Can’t sleep.”

“What’s new? So? How’d it go?”

“He cried like a baby and begged for mercy.”

Nicholas laughs. “God, it’s fucking pathetic how predictable they are.”

“Truth, brother.” I yawn, my eyes drooping, but my body has never had control over my mind. It’s that which prevents me from sleeping.

“How long has it been this time?”

I screw up my nose, counting the days. “Slept on Wednesday.”

Nicholas shakes his head. “I thought Imogen’s arrival might have helped.”

My spine stiffens, but I school my expression. Nicholas knows me far too well, and my thoughts on Imogen are my own. I don’t plan to share them with him, no matter how close we are. “Why would it?”

A wave of sadness sweeps across his face, but it’s gone a second later. “Now you’ve cleared the earth of one more oxygen waster, perhaps you’ll get some rest.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “There’s always another waiting to take their place, though.”

“Which is why we’re in this together. For Annabel.”

His mention of our sister shoots me nineteen years into the past. When I was sixteen, my twin and I were kidnapped and thrown into a cellar crawling with mold and rats. She broke her ankle during our escape attempt, so I left her behind, promising I’d bring help soon.

Which I did. Just not soon enough to save her.

My lungs flatten as memories break free from their chains and crowd my mind. Grief consumed my first few years, but once I emerged from the numbness, anger had taken over. I’d called a meeting with my brothers, and we’d all agreed on what we wanted to do.

Take out the trash.

My family ran many legitimate businesses, but we also had some shadier ones, as did most Consortium members. My extracurricular activities were my way of balancing the scales, and I’d made my peace with that long ago.

We sit together in silence, sipping on the brandies Nicholas pours. This is one of the great things about the brother closest in age to me. He knows when to talk and when to shut up.

Then out of the blue, I blurt, “She’s driving me insane.”

Nicholas’s eyebrows rise a few millimeters. “Imogen?”

“Yeah.”

The faintest smile pulls at his lips. “From the moment I met her, I knew she’d push your buttons. It’s the red hair, brother. She’s a fiery one. Why do you think I chose Elizabeth rather than Victoria?”

Victoria is Elizabeth’s elder sister, and would normally have been the chosen one when the Montagues struck a deal with Dad, but Nicholas asked for the choice, and Dad agreed. My brother had picked the meek and mild Elizabeth Montague rather than her far more combative sister. It hadn’t come as a surprise to any of us, and given the grief Imogen’s giving me, I can see the attraction to the quieter ones.

Although I can’t help thinking Nicholas might come to regret his decision further down the line. Having a quarrelsome wife certainly makes life more interesting. He seems okay with his choice, though. Evidently, he’d rather have peace in his home life and get his kicks through other means. I thought I’d have felt the same way.

Turns out, I don’t.

“My palm twitches to spank her every time we’re in the same room.”

“Maybe you should give her a spanking. It may do you both the world of good.”

“I already have.” I brief him on the swimming pool incident, and when I get to the part where I tossed her in, his booming laughter fills my office.

“You’re a brave man.” Shaking his head, he adds, “No, not brave. Stupid.” He laughs again.

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