Page 15 of Mind Maze

I almost laugh out loud at the murderous, disgusted look that crosses over his features. He mustn’t forget who he’s dealing with. I’m the eldest Crowne son. We are the kings of the psyop world, masters of manipulation. Our subjects help make the world a better place. He doesn’t need to know that our tactics fall on deaf ears when it comes to his daughter.

“There’s been a death in their family,” Romy says to her father. “You’ll need to be kind to Caius’s brother, Theo, please.”

I cut my eyes over to her, searching for malice, but find none. Irritation stirs in my gut. I know Theo has a thing for her, but it better not be mutual.

Or what, big man?

You’ll kill him too?

I’m annoyed that Romy gets inside my head and makes a mess of things. Everything in my world used to be so clear. One motive, one plan, one future: find Calista. Not only find my sister but take her far, far away from these twisted fucks who infest every corner of this ruined world.

Now that Romy’s a part of my life, all the plans got a lot more complicated, and frankly, confusing.

“A death? That must mean Gareth,” Gideon asks, eyes boring into me. “Wasn’t he only in his mid-twenties?”

Despite this dancing around each other, both Gideon and I know each other’s worlds very well. I’ve only done a deeper dive into his since Romy came along, but I’ve always known of him and his connection to my father.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I say without emotion.

Romy reaches for my hand on my lap and threads our fingers together. “Keep it between us, but yes. He slipped off a yacht and drowned. The cops think he must’ve been drinking. Horrible, really.”

I note how she establishes with her father right away that she had nothing to do with it. Not that I would ever truly go through with my plan of framing her for Gareth’s murder. I like how she’s being proactive, though, planting necessary seeds for her own protection with her powerful father.

She’s smart and plays the game well.

A worthy opponent.

Romy

Why does it secretly please me that Dad and Caius don’t seem to like each other?

I’ve always enjoyed making Dad uncomfortable, and shaking up Caius’s world is my only entertainment these days. I just didn’t expect to find so much joy in being able to do it at the same time.

Dad, as per usual, is being a prick. Eva, the saint she is, takes it in stride, shrugging off his rudeness as if it’s nothing more than an errant hair that needs removing. He’s always controlling and clipped when it comes to me. And Caius, used to being the bigger asshole in any room, gets prickly at anything Dad says or does. It’s highly amusing. If only Bastian or Theo were here to share my fun with.

It’s not lost on me that Theo has stepped into the role of big brother for me. Sure, I’m using Theo’s attraction toward me to make sure I have some semblance of an ally in this Crowne game I’m a pawn in, but his friendship is real. He’s not Gareth or Caius, used to playing these games. It’s clearly not in his DNA to do so.

“Supper is ready anytime you all are,” Eva interjects when Dad and Caius have another glaring match. “Why don’t we migrate to the dining room? I’ll let Rosie know.”

Eva elegantly rushes from the room, eager to escape the testosterone war going on right now. Clearly, she’s not as entertained as I am.

“This weekend, I’ll be unable to meet for supper as I have a previously committed to engagement,” Dad says. “One doesn’t cancel on the president.”

“Wait? Like the President of the United States?” I ask, unable to hide my shock.

Dad’s nostrils flare. “Indeed. He’s the honorary guest for the event.”

I’ve met tons of celebrities, politicians, and even a few world leaders because of Dad’s connections. But the president? That’s a new one for me. Based on Caius’s barely lifted eyebrows, it’s something new for him too.

In fact…

He has the same determined glint in his eyes as when Solomon invited him onto his yacht.

“The great Dr. Alexander Huxley,” Caius says, voice turning from gruff to charming. “I’ve heard a lot about his humanitarian work from before his days in politics. Have you read any of his books?”

Dad and Caius discuss the many books and journals Dr. Huxley wrote with shared enthusiasm, ignoring me completely as we head for the dining room. Caius shows a flash of gentlemanly attention my way long enough to pull my chair out before sliding back into conversation with my father. Now that they mention it, I clearly remember seeing many of Dr. Huxley’s books in Caius’s office. He had a whole slew of them.

Why didn’t I read some of those books when I’d stumbled on them?

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