Page 44 of Sins of Autumn

“It’s one of us who does the rest,” he added casually. “Wilder keeps his hands clean—well, most of the time.” He chuckled darkly, jiggling Amber’s head.

“Some girls have a mask fetish, you know. They don’t even realize who they’re really talking to.”

“Except this nasty cunt,” Romeo drawled, gesturing to Amber’s head. “She knew. And she was dealt with accordingly.”

“She was an entire trash receptacle,” Thorne added bluntly.

I worked against the twine cutting into my wrists, every instinct in me screaming to get away.

“I’m genuinely sorry we didn’t get rid of her sooner,” Lucian continued. “We always look out for each other. As part of our family, that includes you too.”

When I didn’t react, Wilder took over.

“We don’t just have money because of trust funds or good investments. Our real line of work is… specialized.”

I glared at him, biting down hard on the cloth in my mouth to keep from making a sound.

“I don’t want you to think we’re monsters that just randomly kill people,” he stressed. "Weworkfor a very specific clientele. The kind that likes to watch."

My stomach churned violently, bile rising in my throat. I shook my head, trying to convince myself I’d misheard him.

“The girls are only a portion of our work. Believe it or not, people love watching others be terrorized.”

He gestured to the mask he wore.

“These? They’re usually streaming. Our clients get their kicks watching people lose their minds. Fear, chaos, death—it’s a profitable business.”

“We skipped the streaming for your benefit this evening, though. What happens between us is personal,” Lucian reassured me. We care about you.”

His tone was disturbingly sincere. “We won’t let anything hurt you. That’s the whole point of this.”

He said it like they were doing me a favor, and this was all some deranged act of love.

“All this,” Thorne gestured around the room, to the scene of chaos and terror they had orchestrated, “it’s for you. To protect what’s his and in retrospect, ours.”

I sat there, my mind racing in frantic loops. Every piece of this nightmare felt impossibly heavy, each revelation landing like a fresh blow.

My fingers twitched against the twin biting into my wrists. I fought to remain calm. I couldn’t look at Cherish for too long. I knew her eyes would be full of fire and terror, and they’d catch that. I feared they’d notice and weaponize it. They were too calm, composed, and controlled, the way predators always were when they knew they were at the top of the food chain.

Their sense of brotherhood was as twisted and deranged as they were. They acted like they were trying to include me as if I somehow belonged to them and they truly had my best interests in mind. I chanced a glance across the room and nearly growled like a damn animal. Ryan kept glancing at me, his eyes darting from the men to me and back again.

I wanted to scream at him to quit being so damn obvious, for fucks sake. He was trying to read me. It was only making things worse.

Atlas’ masked face shifted my way the slightest bit, the motion of someone who noticed far too much.

My pulse spiked, and I dropped my gaze to the floor, feigning interest in the wood beneath my feet.

"Interesting," he rasped.

Wilder finally stepped forward, his towering frame blocking out the rest of the room as he crouched in front of me. His gloved hand tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze—or at least the cold, unfeeling gaze of his mask. The polished black surface reflected nothing back at me, as blank and unreadable as the man behind it.

He tugged the gag free, his voice almost gentle as he asked, "Any questions?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came. I snapped it shut again, swallowing back every plea, every sob, and every bitter burst of rage. They wouldn't care.

These monsters weren’t moved by emotion. If I wanted to survive and get my sister out of this, I had to play it smart. Everything else, the others, even my sanity could wait.

“You have my dog?” It was the first thought that pierced through the mess in my head.

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