Page 37 of Bonds of Obsession

“That’s better,” Ambrose says after a beat of silence. “Can’t wait to see you tonight.”

I end the call, barely resisting the urge to hurl my phone across the room. The screen lights up again almost immediately with a call from Blood and Ink.

I hit speaker and set the phone on the coffee table. “This is Quinn. Go ahead.”

“Hey, Quinn. Damon here. Just wanted to give you a quick update. Still no sign of Emmett anywhere—he’s gone completely dark. We’ve had people watching all his usual spots, checked with his contacts. Nothing.”

“Fuck.” I rake my hand through my hair. “Keep looking.”

“There’s something else.” Damon clears his throat. “Something I’m pretty sure you’ll want to know. Word on the street is the Princes of Carnage went through a rebrand. They’re calling themselves the Twisted Tyrants now that Zoey and Stefan are running things.”

I catch the change in Nico’s expression—his face contorts like he’s been stabbed in the gut. Without a word, he turns and stalks out of the room. My own stomach twists into knots watching him go.

“Thanks for the update,” I say, my eyes still fixed on the doorway Nico just disappeared through. “Let me know if anything else comes up.”

“Will do.”

The call ends, leaving the room in silence except for Nico’s heavy footsteps fading down the hallway.

The news about the Princes hits harder than I expected. Sure, Enigma is going through a rough patch right now too—my second in command is a traitor and half my people still look at me sideways, wondering if I’m really cut out for this. But at least I still have a club to lead.

Nico and Killian? They lost everything. Their brothers turned on them, kicked them out, and now they’re rubbing salt in the wound by changing the damn name. Erasing any trace of what the club used to be under Nico’s leadership.

The Twisted Tyrants. Jesus. Even the name sounds like a direct fuck-you to everything Nico, Killian, and Atlas built.

My eyes meet Killian’s across the room. His jaw is clenched tight, but he gives me a small nod toward the hallway. Go after him.

Thankfully, he hasn’t gone far. I find him in the kitchen, hands braced against the counter and head bowed low. His knuckles are white from gripping the edge.

“You okay?” It’s a stupid question, but I have to start somewhere.

“Twisted Tyrants.” He spits the words like they taste bad. “Zoey always did have a flair for the dramatic. Bet she came up with that herself.”

I step closer, close enough to touch his shoulder, but I don’t. Not yet. “I’m sorry.”

“You know what the worst part is?” His voice is raw. “I took those two under my wing when they first joined. Taught Stefaneverything he knows about bikes. About loyalty.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Guess that lesson didn’t stick.”

“I’m so sorry, Nico.” I move closer, letting my hand rest on his arm. The muscle beneath my fingers is tight with tension. “For all of it.”

His eyes meet mine in the reflection of the kitchen window. The fading light outside turns the glass into a mirror, showing me the raw pain etched across his features.

“You know, that night we talked about leadership?” I continue, partially to fill the silence but also to let him know that my apology is truly sincere. “About the weight of it all? That was the first time I felt like someone really got it.” I lean against the counter next to him. “The constant second-guessing, wondering if every decision you make is the right one. If you’re strong enough to handle it all.”

He shifts slightly, turning to face me. Some of the tension bleeds from his shoulders.

“Enigma is struggling right now. Half my people look at me like they’re waiting for me to fail. Like they’re counting down the days until I crack under the pressure.” My throat tightens. “But I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. To have lost your club, to have everything you built just… taken away like that.”

“They were my family.” His voice drops on the last word. “My brothers. I trusted them with my life. All of them.”

“And they betrayed that trust in the worst possible way.”

He nods, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Now they’re trying to erase everything we created. Everything the Princes stood for.”

I slide my arm around his waist, offering what comfort I can. He leans into me slightly, some of his weight pressing against my side.

“The Princes of Carnage died the night they turned on us,” he says quietly. “Maybe it’s fitting they changed the name.”

“I’m so sorry.” The words catch in my throat as guilt crashes over me like a wave. “If I hadn’t started that fire at the old clubhouse, none of this would have happened. You’d still have your club, your brothers.” My voice breaks. “I never meant for it to go this far. I was just trying to protect myself, but I ended up destroying everything you built.”

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