Page 21 of Cruel Crown

Gideon

Location:Chicago

It’d been two weeks since we got dropped off here in Chicago. What Bas told us made Ren stand him a little bit more. He was grateful because he was living his happy fucking ending, thanks to Daphne. As for me, I was not letting myself think about my next move until it fucking happened.

Bas got a doctor to come see me, and he said what I already knew: the damage to my eye was permanent. The scar was healing nicely, but my vision would not be perfect. It was okay; I only needed one working eye to use a sniper.

“Chicks dig scars.” Bas patted my back in support or some shit.

We were staying in a penthouse at the Hills hotel, while Bastian waited for the go-ahead of whatever it was we were supposed to be doing since this was a need-to-know basis.

“Okay, so why can’t she kill Yorovich?”

Meanwhile, I had been questioning Bastian about anything and everything I could think of. I wasn’t stupid; he was telling me because he wanted me to know.

“The Sekt is archaic. They have traditions and laws. Contracts are pretty much sacred to them. The best I can describe it is as a modern-day guild. What happened in Chicago didn’t void that contract, but Damian just put it on hold for a few years. If I’m not mistaken, she’s due to go to him in a few months again.”

There was no way in hell I would allow her to go back to him. He might have been her old master, but Daphne was about to find out someone new held her leash. I snorted. “So, it’s a cult?”

Bas stopped smoking his cigarette. “Yeah, I guess it’s a cult.”

“And Damian is your leader.”

He passed me the cigarette, and I took it greedily.

“He will be yours too. We bow to no one, but he likes to test those limits forcing us to kneel for him. He has spies everywhere.”

“You really are selling it,” I said dryly. I needed something more substantial than a cigarette, but the oil prince didn’t do drugs. I tried to talk about it, but it was a touchy subject for him. Then I remember his girlfriend was pretty, but as rich as she was, she used to be a junkie, which eventually got her killed.

“Is it true you watched your girl die?”

His jaw went hard and his face stony. On the inside, I smiled. I liked pushing buttons. He got up and was about to leave but turned around and looked at me, those dark eyes staring me down.

“Damian is on his way. My advice,mate,” he mocked, “don’t show any type of emotion.”

Bas left the penthouse in a hurry, slamming the door on his way out. Guess his girlfriend was a touchy subject.

So, Damian was coming, and things would get interesting. Many times, I’d stopped myself from dialing her number and telling her I was coming for her, but no, I’d rather see shock wash through her face when she saw me. Bas had his reasons for not letting her know I survived, and as for Damian…he was just a fucking prick who wanted her to know she was betrayed.

According to Bastian, they kept things aloof within prying eyes. Aloof, my fucking arse. That’s why when we sparred, I didn’t hold back. I was angry—at him for whipping her, at her for betraying me, and at myself for not stopping her.

What I felt for her wasn’t love, for love wasn’t built on secret and lies. It was something more, something so painful that it stole and ripped out your soul.

***

The next day after my shower, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyebrow, according to Bas, was now hip. A slash went down, and there were now just the small stitches in my lid. I tried to keep it covered as much as I could since it hurt to blink. Then I looked at my neck, and I could barely make out the scar since the tattoos covered every inch of my skin.

Damian was going to get here any minute, and then he would ask of me what he wanted me to do so I could join the Sekt. After that, a vote would be called, and since Daphne wouldn’t be notified, I was getting in. Just a few more hours. For the first time since Colombia, I smiled. It was cold, cruel, and calculated.

“You better start running, Petal, because your time is up, and I’m coming for you.”

When Bastian got the message that Damian was here, I was already changed. I waited in the living room while Bastian went to greet the pale fucker.

A few seconds later, both of them came in. While I was in jeans and a T-shirt, Bas and Damian wore suits.

I stayed seated mostly because I was afraid that if I got up, I would kill Damian. The only person allowed to make Daphne’s life hell from now on was me.

“I see you still dress like a commoner,” Damian said snidely with his accent sounding smooth like venom.

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