Page 136 of Iris
“Black,” he says softly. “Start that war and you might find the world a darker, more draconian place. The girl’s a bridge, one you need. You don’t understand her worth.”
“What?” I throw back my drink. “Disposable doesn’t mean unworthy.”
His glance is sharp. “If she’s disposable then make her a bomb.”
“That’s stupid.” But then I get his meaning. A bomb as in blow up her own life. Which is what, in essence, we’re asking of her.
“Is it?”
I don’t answer, and he sets down his glass. “The Monarch, for all her asinine ways, is honest. She won’t be bribed. But the pot can be sweetened. I hear on good authority that she likes certain rums outside her usual tipple.”
I think to the small supply we have. “Like what?”
“Not sure, just she does like some contraband rums.” He shakes my hand. “I’ll be at the next meeting. I hear there’s goingto be a dance this weekend, the Midnight Garden? It could be the perfect place to use the girl. Sophine’s attending. Think about it.”
As he leaves, I catch Xavier’s eye.
Heat licks upwards, eating at my control.
Using her, throwing her into a storm of scandal she’ll never recover from, no matter what the outcome, is smart. Doing it at the dance is smart.
Iris wants to help, too. She said as much.
She knows the risks.
But still…
It doesn’t matter. Marking her wasn’t the smartest move, I’ll admit. We got wrapped up in our baser instincts, but we follow the plan of using her, manipulating her, and then we reject the bond. Return to our normal lives, hopefully with more freedoms.
Xavier won’t like this.
I haven’t repeated the plan to him again. I’ve read the messages he’s sending the brat, and it’s obvious he cares about Iris more than he should. Cupcake, he calls her.
He better get over it because his feelings will only complicate things. We have hands in too many cookie jars; there’s too much at risk, and I won’t have anyone, even Xav, fucking this up.
“What’s that look on your face?” Freya asks as she pushes me out of the way to get some fresh glasses.
I scowl at her. “Thinking.”
“About your rich little Omega?” she mutters and glances at Xavier. She shakes her head. “He’s got it bad, huh?”
“Seems so.” I rub a hand across my jaw. “Get back to work or I’ll fire you.”
With that, I keep an eye on the crowd, noting who comes and goes. Not the regulars, but new people. There are one or two I peg as troublemakers, but as one of the guys glances arrogantly around, his eyes meet mine and I can almost see his ego withdraw inwards as he drops his eyes.
Good, but I think I’ll stick around, organize the things for the ball.
Iris isn’t my problem.
And she isn’t Xavier’s.
Fuck it, I’m not looking for another mate bond. Another kid. Another anything.
Iris will meet a rich Alpha, live the life her family wants for her. All Omegas have that engrained in them, especially the upper class ones.
Time passes. Drifts.
No matter how busy I am serving customers, my thoughts are elsewhere.
