Page 431 of Filthy Elites

The guy behind me snorted. “That fucking idiot doesn’t have any more clue than the rest of them. Just another bootlicker. Worked in our favor, though, pushing Marcel along like that.”

I forced my eyes wide. “You and Holly pulled this off all by yourselves?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Holly sneered. “No one in that fucking house ever gave me the chance I deserved.”

So it really was just these two coming up with the scheme on their own. Well, I suspected Holly had done most of the thinking. Brant was the muscle—and the gun.

“Were you really so peeved about Marcel divorcing you that you had to pull this?” I asked her, partly out of honest curiosity. “I mean, you were wifey number three. You didn’t figure that was a bad sign from the get-go?”

Holly bared her teeth at me, her pretty face transforming into something hard and a little unhinged. “I could have stood right beside him properly if he’d let me prove myself. He was only looking for arm candy, it turns out. So I’ll just have to build my own empire.”

Holy hell, the delusions ran even deeper with this woman than I’d imagined. She wasn’t just out to undermine two major gangs—she figured she was going to start her own with her ill-gotten gains? With this shithead Brant as her right-hand man?

But even as I scoffed internally, I had to admit she hadn’t gotten off to a totally bad start. She’d set two major powers in this part of the country at each other’s throats, ready to tear away at one another—and maybe she figured she could fill in the gaps they left.

There was something kind of thrilling about the idea of a woman in charge of a syndicate like the Nobles or the Hell Kickers. If it’d been a different woman, if it hadn’t meant the potential destruction of my own family’s legacy, I might have cheered her on.

But this was a vindictive cunt who’d savaged the heart of a sixteen-year-old girl for no reason that couldn’t have been entirely selfish. Someone that petty wasn’t going to be any kind of role model.

“Wonderful,” I said. “I wouldn’t have intervened if you hadn’t involved my family in the whole mess.”

Holly sniffed disdainfully. “As if you didn’t involve yourself inmylife way before now. Who do you figure you’re fooling with that cutesy dress? You think I don’t know why your dad kept sending you under Marcel’s eye? Practically offering you up on a platter. He figured he’d get the hook in good and deep, and as soon as you were old enough—”

She snapped her fingers. Then a malicious smirk crossed her face. “I wonder what Marcel would think if he knew what a whore you were even back then.”

A shudder crawled down my spine.Thatwas why she’d poisoned the years of friendship and budding love between me and the Rosano brothers—because she assumed Dad had been setting me up for Marcel? The guy might have liked his women young, but I’d never gotten the impression he saw me that way. Ugh. I’d only been ten years old when I had my first summer visit.

But this woman clearly didn’t have any concept of normal human thought patterns.

Brant tapped me on the head with the side of his pistol again. “It’s none of your business anyway. Your idiot brother didn’t want you. You’re a goddamn stray. No one’s going to miss you when you’re gone.”

The blatant threat made my skin prickle even more. I braced myself, studying the scene and working out my options. If I could just delay them a little longer…

But I didn’t want to wait for the Rosano brothers to show up, if they were even on their way after my conversation with Felix. I wasn’t some damsel in distress needing rescue. I was Anthea fucking Noble, and I took care of my own business.

I’d needed to deal with these two, and it appeared I was going to have to do it much faster than I’d have preferred if I was going to get out of this alive. But it’d had to happen either way.

It would be better—simpler—if no one suspected anyone other than these two had ever been here. No investigation into their connections, which would bring a heap of police trouble down on the Rosanos’ heads. No possible fingers pointed at me, just months after a different death.

Could I pull off an even bigger con than I ever had before, without weeks to plan every variable? Maybe, if the pieces I’d set in motion came together properly. From the corner of my eye, I thought I caught a slight sway in Brant’s stance. The toxin had gotten several minutes to travel through his bloodstream. His muscles shouldn’t be holding him up quite as firmly as they normally would.

“You don’t have to kill me,” I said, holding up my hands. “And if you do, believe me, my brother won’t be happy about that. How many enemies are you looking to collect?”

“Cast-off gang princess,” Holly sneered at me. “Who says anyone will ever know what happened to you? We’ll make you completely disappear.”

That could be the prompt I needed. “Vanishing a person isn’t all that easy,” I said, taking on a haughty tone I knew would irk her. “Especially someone like me.”

Holly stalked closer to me and looked me up and down. She waved Brant to the side, and he stepped back with his gun still aimed at my head.

Perfect. I’d bought myself a little more space to work with.

“Let me guess, you’ve got something on you that you expect the Nobles to trace,” she said with obvious skepticism. She patted my sides and my pockets, shoving her hands right into the latter to check for phones or other devices.

“She was doing something on the phone I broke when I caught her,” Brant said, jerking his head toward the spot where he’d smashed it.

Holly glared at me. “What were you up to? Were you talking to someone?”

I stared steadily back at her. “Why should I tell you?”

---