Page 10 of Goldflame

I can barely hold onto thoughts about the coronation, the one Adrian will never attend. Two weeks from now, my brother was supposed to officially take over, ending years of Lucian’s maniacal control. The day we’d all been waiting for.

“The coronation,” I mutter.

I had completely forgotten about it. Between Aurelia’s games and all this bloodshed, it slipped my mind. So… I’ll be the one standing there, accepting responsibility I never wanted. The power I spent my entire life running from.

I still don’t want it, but what choice do I have?

I’m trapped.

My mother’s fingers brush through my hair, her touch surprisingly gentle for a woman who just lost a son. “You’ll take your brother’s place, of course,” she says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “The Consortium needs stability. It needs a Harrow.”

I’m numb, just for this moment, to all the weight trying to crush me—Adrian’s death, Aurelia’s betrayal, my impending role as leader to a bunch of fucking scum. Tomorrow, when the alcohol has bled from my system, I’m sure my lungs will be fighting for air that suddenly seemstoo thin.

“I never wanted this,” I say.

“None of us get what we want, Julian.” My mother’s voice hardens just a fraction. “Your father didn’t want a knife in his chest. Your brother didn’t want a bullet. And I didn’t want to lose a son.” She cups my face, forcing me to look at her. “But we adapt. We survive. And then we rise above.”

Something in her eyes makes me pause. Is that satisfaction?

No—it must be relief that she still has one son. My mother always supported Adrian’s rise to the top, even though I know she felt hurt that he never stood up for her the way I always have.

“What do you want?” she asks, her voice softening again. “Tell me. What do you really want right now?”

The answer comes immediately, burning through the haze of alcohol and grief. “Revenge.” The word tastes right on my tongue. “Everyone who hurt our family… I want them all to suffer.”

Mom’s lips curve in a slight smile. “Then get your revenge, dear. Take everything that’s rightfully yours. I’ll be right here with you.”

I close my eyes, sinking into the fuzzy, spinning world. I can’t run anymore. I can’t escape what I am, what I was born to be.

A Harrow doesn’t run.

CHAPTER FOUR

AURELIA

Two weeks after Adrian’s murder, and I’m here at an Inferno Consortium party, watching these monsters drink and laugh like nothing happened. Like Adrian’s blood isn’t still staining the carpet of Lady Harrow’s recovery room. Like everything hasn’t imploded.

It’s strange how the world keeps spinning when Adrian’s has stopped.

When my heart wants to stop too.

The past two weeks have been a blur of grief and isolation. I’ve barely left my room. Barely spoken to Valentine. Even Eleanora’s attempts to reach me have gone unanswered. How do I explain that the man I thought I didn’t love is now haunting me?

I figured coming here might distract me from my thoughts, even if only for a few hours. But now I’m just cold, sitting here in my panties.

I didn’t know who was hosting this particular party, and I didn’t care about wearing the appropriate lingerie,so I tried to enter wearing a stained sweatshirt and jeans. The guard gave me a hard look, like I was insane, so I stripped to my white sports bra and underwear.

Sighing, he asked for my name, to check if I was on the list.

“The Golden One,” I spat at him.

He scoffed, called me a whore, and then allowed me to enter.

I’m tempted to add him to my hit list. But honestly, I was shocked he let me pass. No one invited me, and I know rumors have spread that I’m connected to Adrian’s death. Valentine has worked hard to make sure no one is saying I killed Adrian, but everyone still knows I’m involved somehow.

I’m glad this is a masked party, so I can hide my identity.

My eyes lazily scan the dance floor and all the naked, gyrating bodies bathed in red light. It’s a kaleidoscope of black masks and expensive jewelry on bare skin. Well, some are dressed. Mostly the men. And some aren’t even dancing—there’s an orgy in the corner with about twenty people.

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