Page 25 of Cruel Crown

“Why haven’t you made it to the safe house?” The question came out accusatory, and I wanted to hate myself for it, but I was tired. So fucking tired.

“Damian had a job for me to do. I’ll see you at the palace.” Bas hung up without another word.

I sighed, and as tired as I felt, I knew I had to be alert at the palace. It’s an actual palace—the palace I grew up in, and if that wasn’t enough to be laced with shitty memories, the fact that most Sekt operatives would be there was enough to make it feel like hell.

Once a year, we all locked ourselves together for a month. We shared all the essential information with each other and had a rundown of the who’s who of the world. That way, we all had the most up-to-date information. We performed physical and psychological tests—nothing but the best for the Sekt.

We were one well-oiled machine.

I brought one of my knees up to my chest and rested my chin upon it. Looking at Cam always reminded me of London, maybe now more than ever because of what I had done.

Dawn would break soon, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. I sat on the chair by the bed, still wearing his shirt. I was used to functioning on little-to-no sleep. When you live with monsters, you learn that rest is a luxury you can’t afford to have, not when you might have eyes on you.

Right now, my eyes were on Gideon. He was sleeping, and he looked—peaceful. Like he had no care in the world. Sometimes I forgot how young we really were because the weight of our lives made us wiser.

My fingers itched to run them over his hair, trace all the tattoos, and ask him what they meant, but up until now, I had refrained. The less personal information we knew about each other, the better. It was always the little details that stayed inside your mind and stabbed at your heart. We were both better off without them. We had enough demons on our own to take on each other.

When the screaming pierced the air, I smiled to myself as Gideon jumped off the bed naked with his gun in one hand, a blade in the other.

It took him a second to realize I wasn’t in bed with him. When he saw me, his eyes lit up, the whiskey shining bright against the few sunrays that came through the window. As for my smile, it was long gone.

“Petal,” he murmured affectionately.

It angered me because for so long, I had wished my family would talk to me in that way, and now the only person who had done it was going to leave. I was going to force them to leave.

“Thanks for your help,” I said as I stood up. “You need to leave now.”

I picked up his shirt—the one I had worn until the last minute, the one I’d handwashed so the delicate fabric wouldn’t get ruined with the washing machine—and I threw at him.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he spat at me.

“You know the way out.” I walked away and didn’t look back at him. I waited at the top of the basement stairs with my ear pressed against the door, ignored the yelling, and waited until he left my cottage.

It was better for him to hate me than get killed over me.

Look how good that turned out. One way or another, death always found me. I walked to the bathroom and poured water on my face. It couldn’t be in vain, all the lives lost, all the blood. I was so close to taking it all, and for the ones I had to betray to get here, I had to make sure that at the end of it all, I was the one standing.

Gideon

Location:Chicago

We had come to a building on lakeshore drive because to kill someone like Morozov, you needed someone else to make the heat go away and not tip over the precarious balance the underworld stood on.

The plaque in the office read Estacado Enterprises.

“Just because you’re wearing glasses doesn’t mean they won’t recognize you. Should I call you Clark?” I asked Bastian.

He didn’t even tell me to shut up. We came to a halt in front of a desk where a cute receptionist stood guard before two wide red doors.

“I need to speak with Mr. Estacado,” Bas informed the woman, who looked at us with an open mouth. “Now, sweetheart,” he barked when she didn’t move.

Wordlessly, she nodded and went into the office.

“We’re here to see Giovanny?”

“No, we’re here to see his son.”

Ah, yes. If my memory served me correctly, he was now the underboss, which was interesting because he was still very young.

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