Page 99 of Silver Elite

I don’t love them, either. The capitalists are the richest of the elites, owning the bulk of the corporations on the Continent. A small groupof men and women in the General’s favor, always happy to collude with the Company.

“Travis pulls me aside before the game and says the capitalist is going to be the murderer.”

I can’t stop a snort. “The General fixes his party games?”

“Of course. And of course, we’re supposed to let the capitalist win. Travis says Dad does the same thing every time with his important guests. Puffs them up. Strokes their ego so that they feel like a monarch from the Old Era. Even if it’s just at a dinner party. But…me?…I don’t let people win. They want to be better than me? Then they need to actually be better than me.” He chuckles. “Why should they have it easy?”

“Becauseyou’venever had it easy, right?” This boy in front of me is both predictable and unpredictable. I hate paradoxical people.

“Exactly.”

“Must be hard to walk upright,” I say, “with that chip on your shoulder.”

“The funny thing is,” he says, ignoring the jab, “even if Travis hadn’t told me, I would’ve guessed him as the murderer. Everyone has their tells. His was smoothing his left eyebrow with two fingers whenever he lied. And he kept slipping up, forgetting who he’d been alone with.” Roe shrugs. “It’s easy to tell when someone’s trying to deceive you.”

Something about his tone quickens my pulse. I look toward the door. Anson hasn’t moved. He’s picking at his fingernails, not paying us any attention.

“All right, Betima.” I turn away from Roe, officially fed up. “Let’s go.”

I hear a rustling behind me.

“You’re not going anywhere, Wren.”

When I look over my shoulder, I freeze on the spot.

He’s pointing the gun at me.

Ignoring my now-careening heartbeat, I put on an unbothered expression. “I don’t know what you’re planning here or why, but your brother’s not going to like it when he finds out you’re holding two of his recruits at gunpoint on a rooftop.”

Betima nods in agreement. “We’re going now. Enough of this shit.”

We exchange a look, then glance at Anson again. We can take him.

There’s a click. Roe releasing the safety.

“Actually, I think my brother will be more concerned with the fact there’s an Aberrant bitch among us.”

My blood runs cold.

By some miracle, I manage to keep my shoulders straight, my jaw locked, even while my knees are weakening and my breath thins from the panic flooding my body. Beside me, Betima goes stock-still. Her gaze darts toward me as if to ask,What the hell is going on?

“Okay, enough,” I snap.

“Enough what? Enough lying? I agree.”

Laughing, Roe saunters forward, closing the distance between us. He stops when we’re a couple of feet apart, and a cold sweat breaks out across my skin.

He knows.

Somehow, he knows the truth.

“The thing about you people is that you look like us, you walk like us, you talk like us. But—and for once my father and I are in full agreement about something—you’renotus. You’re defective. You shouldn’t exist.”

He aims the gun at chest level, which tells me he’s been paying attention at the range. Always go for the bigger target. The head is a sexy mark, but it’s a lot easier to miss.

“Let’s go, Betima.” My voice is barely audible over my screaming pulse.

“But the one good thing about you,” he continues, unfazed when we turn our backs on him to advance on Anson.

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