Page 72 of Bonds of Obsession

“Which venue?” Her blood-red nails tap against the table.

“The Golden Palace. It’s closest to where he’s staying, and the private gaming rooms have… convenient access points.”

The assignments continue around the table, each task more ruthless than the last. Cassandra will ensure local law enforcement stays away. Malcolm’s teams will handle perimeter security and cleanup. These people plan murder with the same casualness that normal people plan dinner parties.

That’s not the part that gets me though.

I’ve done the same with my own men plenty of times. It’s the cold, calculated efficiency that makes me jealous and a little nauseated at the same time. But then, what did I expect from the Dark Lotus Syndicate? They didn’t get to where they are by playing nice.

When Elliot’s eyes finally land on me, his lips curve into a cruel smile. “And Quinn…” He draws out my name like he’ssavoring it. “You’ll handle the loose ends. Make sure there are no surviving heirs left to seek revenge or rebuild his operation.”

His choice of words makes my stomach clench. “Surviving heirs?”

“Just one, really. Arturo has taken a wife and has apparently knocked her up.” He pauses, squinting a little as if he’s sizing me up. “Your job is to kill her.”

25

QUINN

My stomach twistsinto knots as I stare at Elliot. Fucker. There’s no mistaking the satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he delivers my assignment.

“You want me to murder a pregnant woman?” And yeah, there should be no mistaking the disgust in my voice. I’m the only person in the room who has questioned his orders, but I don’t fucking care. “Is that how you’ve gotten ahead in life? By killing innocent people who have nothing to do with your fucked-up power plays?”

“She chose her path,” he shrugs as if we’re talking about the goddamn weather. “Spread her legs for Arturo, let him put a baby in her. That makes her fair game.”

“A baby,” I repeat, shaking my head because I’m apparently the only person at this table who can’t believe how crazy that sounds. “You’re talking about murdering an unborn child like it’s nothing more than crushing a fucking bug.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, looking more amused than offended. “Arturo needs to learn, and it’ll serve as a good lesson to my other enemies as well. When you go to war with me, everything you love burns.”

“There’s no reason why a pregnant woman should be a fucking casualty in your war,” I spit out, my hands curling into fists under the table. “Just another body for you to step over while you climb your way to the top of whatever shit-heap you’re after. How many other women and children have you murdered, Elliot? Do you keep count? Is there some kind of two-for-one bonus when the woman is pregnant?”

Rafael, the one with the charming smile that I don’t buy for a fucking second, chuckles. “You act like you’ve never had blood on your hands, Quinn. We all know better.”

“There’s a difference between defending yourself and targeting innocents,” I snap back. “But I guess that distinction is too complex for someone who treats human trafficking like a fucking business model.”

Elliot’s expression hardens, the smugness vanishing as he holds my gaze. He shoves back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor like nails on a chalkboard. “That’s the only way to get ahead in this world, sweetheart. The strong survive by crushing everyone else under their boots.” He stalks around the table toward me, each step measured and predatory. “Maybe you’re too soft for the Syndicate. Too weak to do what needs to be done.”

His gaze flicks to my men standing behind me, lingering on Atlas’s still-healing form. “Although I suppose you’ve proven you know how to use others to do your dirty work. Hide behind your guard dogs while pretending to have teeth of your own.”

“Back the fuck up,” Killian growls, and I can feel the lethal energy radiating from him. “Before you learn exactly how sharp her teeth are.”

“Enough,” Malcolm’s voice cuts through the tension, but just barely. His dark eyes bore into mine, but I can’t read the emotion behind them. Is he silently judging my reluctance or trying to protect me from Elliot’s growing anger? “The termsof membership are clear, Quinn. When a member calls in their votum, we all must support their cause. No exceptions. No questions asked.”

He tilts his head, shadows playing across his angular features. “You understood this when you used your own votum, did you not?”

“That was different,” I argue, but even I can hear how weak it sounds.

“Was it?” Cassandra cuts in. “Because from where I’m sitting, you were perfectly happy to use our power when it served your needs. But now that someone else has made the same call, you’re suddenly growing a conscience?”

Imogen Brooks leans forward. “The rules aren’t á la carte, darling.” Her voice is low, almost conspiratorial—as if she’s imparting some kind of secret wisdom that I’ve failed to understand. “You don’t get to pick and choose which ones to follow.”

“I’m well aware,” I say through gritted teeth. “I just didn’t realize we were all supposed to check our humanity at the door.”

I can feel my men tensing behind me, ready for violence. I know they’d have my back no matter what happens, but I also know we’ll lose if it comes to blood and bullets.

No fucking way am I going to risk getting us all killed. Not here. Not like this.

My jaw aches from clenching it so hard, but I force myself to nod. “I never said I wouldn’t do it,” I grit out. “So you can back the fuck up and stop questioning my commitment.”

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