Page 7 of Broken Queen
I chuckled darkly, then ran my thumb across the stem of the flute, wondering how much force it would take to break the damn thing with my hands. If I used that same pressure on Logan’s neck, how long would it take him to asphyxiate?
“Let me deal with the bureaucracy,” Logan murmured. “You do what you do best.”
I cocked my head to the side, ready for his flattery. “And what is that?”
“Being my wife.”
A vein engorged in my neck, making my throat pulse with anger. I held my chin high. The glass was like a small dagger in my hands, and once it had a broken, jagged edge, I’d be able to do some actual damage. God, I wanted to see him bleed right then, but I refused to get my hands dirty.
“You want me to sit back and be your wife?” I asked.
“Oh, come on,” he mumbled. “You know it’s not like that.”
Another member waved, coming toward us to congratulate Logan. Logan greeted the man. I tore myself away from them, knowing that if I stayed any longer, I might literally bite off my husband’s head.
Be his wife. Like that was the only job I was capable of.
If you get on the board, you can have all of your father’s power, my mother had said. You can change the lives of so many women that come after you.
I sure as hell wasn’t going to let my precious husband get in my way.
As I spun around, my heart pounded in my rib cage and I narrowed in on my father’s red face. His cheeks puffed as he saw me, and that pompous stomach hung over his belt. He dismissed the men he was speaking to as I came forward. His fingertips dragged across my back and a prickle of tension rolled down my spine, bringing back unwanted memories.
Bile in my throat. Bent over. Staring at the ground. Waiting for him to finish.
I swallowed and straightened myself. Now that I was married to Logan, he wouldn’t touch me like that anymore. He was loyal in a way; you had to respect that.
“Father,” I said. “There are two open seats on the board, correct?”
“Yes,” he said, a sneer in his voice. “Why?”
“Logan and I are your only logical choices,” I said, tipping my head to the side. A savannah dried the inside of my mouth as I tried to formulate my words. I couldn’t fail now. “I’ve done so much for the Syndicate. Secured partnerships. Found new members. Even got that deal with the pharmaceutical company?—”
“And you meddle, Zira,” my father said. “Just like your mother.”
I gritted my teeth, a coldness sweeping through me. My father had probably arranged to have my mother killed; it was no sacrificial coincidence.
But that didn’t matter right then. I simply needed him on my side.
“Every action I’ve ever done has only put the Syndicate in a better position than before,” I said firmly. “And you know it.”
He flexed his fingers, one by one, then flattened his black shirt. His mask was plastered to his skin, making him the epitome of a has-been superhero.
“When I don’t keep a close eye on you, it’s chaos. And now I’ve got two board members’ spots to fill, and you helped make sure of that, Zira. You think I’m going to let you on the board?”
“I’m the only blood you have left in the family,” I snapped. “When you die, who’s going to watch over the Syndicate?”
“Give Logan a son and we won’t have to worry about that.”
It was always about the bloodline, but I refused to have a child. I wasn’t going to bring anyone—man or woman—into this world. Not unless there were some changes.
I reveled in violence. I needed the blood, the flesh smeared beneath my feet. It was what kept me going. But I needed power too.
“Or give me the next seat,” I said.
My father let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. “I will consider it,” he said. My fingers twitched at my sides, my head aching. It was his way of dismissing the subject. It wasn’t a win, so much as a pass, for now.
I glared around the room, searching for some poor soul to be the victim of my angry outburst, to prove to the rest of the members that I did have it in me. I could hurt someone, just like they hurt me.
