Page 72 of Property of Chaos

“Sort of,” Ness answers, reaching for a coffee cup. “Do you want a drink?”

“Nope.” I need a gun. About five feet of rope and maybe a shovel. “Was she part of it?”

“Who?” Vanessa frowns.

“The woman who was here yesterday.”

Her eyes widen.I’ve said too much.

“How did you know about her?” Her concern morphs into frustration. “Did that guy Circus tell you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I jerk her cutlery drawer open and pass her a spoon.

She raises an eyebrow, seemingly curious about how I know my way around her kitchen.

What can I say? There are cameras. I watched the old footage before turning in last night.

“No.” Her raven hair shields her face as she busies herself with the coffee maker. “She wasn’t part of it but knew about it.”

“And she did nothing?” I lean my hip against the counter and fold my arms.

“She couldn’t.” Vanessa sighs out her nose as she dumps a spoonful of sugar in the mug. “It’s complicated, Chaos. He has connections everywhere. It’s hard to know who you can trust when they hide their true faces so well.”

“Who does? His followers?”

She snorts a little laugh. “It’s not a cult.”

“You’re sure making it sound like one.”

“It’s a conglomerate,” she explains. “A bunch of wealthy men who agreed to help one another stay atop their respective ladders, no matter the cost.”

I wet my lips and draw a deep breath through my nose. “I still don’t see how that means he sold you off by the hour.”

“Because men get to those places by trading favors.” She peers at me cautiously from the side of her eye. “And most men in positions of power get off on that feeling of control. Of unchecked dominance over another human being.” Shehesitates, looking at the spoon in her hand. “They want to feel like gods.”

Does she see me that way?My heart thuds against my ribs.

“What made you say the word, Ness?”

She drags the back of the spoon back and forth on the counter while the coffee machine sputters its final drops.

“I can’t avoid doing it again if I don’t know what I did.”

Her brow furrows. The spoon stills. “Maybe it’d be easier if you picked someone else to obsess over.”

“I’m not obsess—“ The word dies on my tongue.Fuck.Yes, I am. “Nobody else makes me want to.”

She jerks a silent laugh, lips curling at the corner as she retrieves the mug.

“I’m fucking serious, Vanessa.” I reach out and coax her to face me, my palm against her cheek. “I’ve never put anything before the club until now.”

“You shouldn’t do that.” She moves out of my reach, crossing to the living area. “It’s against your code, or charter, or some shit, isn’t it?”

She isn’t wrong.

Your loyalty stays with your patch.

Brotherhood above all.

---