Page 134 of Inferno

“Reggie said you broke your own rules. Twice,” Finn says harshly, sipping his own drink.

“I had to,” I reply, lighting up my third cigarette in half an hour.

“Explain. You’ve never once entered a game. You’ve outright refused even Conan’s ideas. Why now? Why her?”

His jaw ticks. Finn himself is probably diagnosable as a true psychopath. Perhaps it takes one to spot one?

She’s under his skin, for entirely different reasons than me.

“We want her to win. She needed help. I knew she did.” I swallow the burning lump in my throat.

It’s a half-truth.

Even if she lost, I can intercept her and interrogate her, regardless. It’s my fucking game. My factory.

A chuckle escapes Finn’s lips, and Conan stares at me, his confusion evident in his wide eyes.

“I told him to have fun,” Conan tells Finn.

I don’t need defending.

Pulling out my cigarette packet, I offer one to Finn, who accepts and pulls out his Zippo.

“You losing your head over her, brother? If so, I can step in and finish the games,” he tells me, exhaling the smoke into my direction.

“No. I’m fine. I just need a break. So do the girls.”

Conan lets out a low chuckle.

“You’re too nice to them,” he tells me.

“I don’t want my potential sub to be scared to death every time I breathe near them, Con,” I snap back.

I’ve read enough books now to know exactly how to create the perfect submissive.

Balancing fear and pleasure. Learning exactly what gets them going. How to turn their minds off.

And what better way to learn how to be a dominant than by the words of a woman.

“Fair enough. I do.” Conan walks round to our side of the bar and takes a seat next to Finn.

“So what exactly is your plan?” Finn asks, and I take another drag.

“Please fucking tell me you have one.” Finn rubs his hands over his face and lets out a huff. Patience has never been his strong suit.

Except he can operate on someone for hours on end without breaking a sweat, but hits the roof if we don’t answer a question in seconds.

Psychopath.

A brilliant one.

“Of course I fucking have one. She wins the games. We hold her in the last room and interrogate her.”

“And then?” he presses, tilting his head to study me.

“She has to go, Declan,” Conan tells me.

I shoot him a look, dread pitting in my stomach.

---