Page 261 of Intense
“This is also a good time to tell you—we’re going after The Preacher,” Declan announces.
Theo blinks. “As in… the cult?”
Kane and Ryder exchange confused looks. Drago shifts in his seat; I need to know more about his past. I like him. He’s a great asset. But he has secrets that are buried in Russia.
“I thought that was all bullshit,” Theo mutters.
“It’s real,” Declan says flatly. “They’re spreading into new territories. Inferno might’ve been on their list. That’s not who we are. Not what we stand for. They already tried to have Finn locked up and blackmailed Stephanie.”
Stephanie’s hand squeezes mine under the table. Forgiveness is one thing that came easy with her. But I still enjoy punishing her for that slip.
“What the fuck,” Theo mutters again.
“So, we’ll need men. Intelligence.” Declan glances at Ryder.
“Ex-army,” Theo says, pointing at his brother. “He’ll help.”
“Whatever you need,” Ryder agrees. “We’re in.”
Rowan clears his throat. All eyes snap to him. “So, uh… what about our Decadence Games?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Not here, Rowan.”
Stephanie straightens her spine beside me, that spark in her eye lighting me up inside. I grin. She knows what’s coming.
“Decadence Games?” Theo frowns.
“It’s Inferno business,” Declan says. “We’ll explain another day.”
Theo shrugs. “Alright. I’ll be in touch soon about the wedding.”
Once they leave, Enzo leans forward,a grin curling his lips. “Out with it, Dr. Quinn.”
I nod at the twins. Declan catches it. “Reg, Rowan—bar.”
They leave, bickering as they do and I chuckle. Enzo lights his cigarette.
“Let me guess. The Trials are done?”
“Wrong.” I smirk.
“Oh?”
I glance at my wife. She beams, though nerves flash across her face. I squeeze her hand. She deserves this seat at my side.
“We’ll keep the Trials,” she says, her voice steady. “But we’re changing the rules. Husbands or families still sign up the women… But the women never step inside. We put the men who entered them into the Trials there instead. And help the women from the outside.”
Enzo raises a brow. “And the winner?”
“There isn’t one,” I answer.
“They’ll believe there’s a chance. That’s enough,” Stephanie finishes.
I can’t hide my pride. Whiskey and strategy, nights spent with her planning this out. My perfect partner.
“And you’ll both host?” Enzo asks.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s the twenty-first century. Women kill too.”
