Page 52 of Thorns of Deceit
I gave my head a subtle shake, proceeding farther into the building.
The heavy perfume wrapped around me. The music swelled, lights flashed, and bodies moved in slow, practiced temptation. But I didn’t see them. I never did.
I only saw and thought abouther.
My throat tightened. I could almost hear her whisper,You should’ve let me escape, Aiden.
She was right. If I’d let her get away, maybe she’d still be breathing. Maybe I wouldn’t be dragging ghosts through this place every damn time I came here.
I moved through the haze, ignoring the dancers who knew better than to stop me. They parted like shadows, whispers following in my wake. The smell of whiskey and smoke crawled under my skin.
The office was tucked away in the back, far from the music and the women. When I got there, the door was half open. Kyran’s voice drifted through—sharp with impatience—while Tyran laughed in that low, cocky way that used to drive our mother crazy. She’d been gone almost five years now, but I could almost hear her sigh at the sound.
I pushed the door open.
Stacks of cash covered the desk while a bottle of something expensive was sitting between my brothers. Tyran looked up first, his eyes narrowing. Kyran leaned back in his chair, grinning like he owned the world.
“Look who decided to crawl out of the grave,” Tyran said. “Didn’t think you still remembered where Velvet Desire was.”
I didn’t bother commenting. Instead, I barked, “We’re leaving for France.”
“Leaving?” Kyran arched a brow. “Why?”
“Omertà business,” I answered flatly.
That killed the humor. They loved our sister, but they were tired of dealing with the Omertà.
“What kind of business?” Kyran asked.
“The kind that doesn’t wait,” I said, opting not to elaborate on the fact that it was some ridiculous fashion show. They might as well kill me in Paris.
Tyran shrugged. “I guess we can combine their shit with our own since you have a few shipments rerouted through France.”
“Then I’ll see you both in two hours at the airport strip. Don’t be late.”
I turned to leave, and my gaze caught the sight of a young woman with long raven hair serving tables. For a second, I swore it was her, but I blinked, and the figure was gone.
I swallowed hard, forcing air into my lungs while the ghost whispered accusingly,You should’ve let her go.
Maybe if I had, she wouldn’t haunt every breath I took.
EIGHTEEN
RAVEN
Present
Paris, France
The fire was everywhere. It wasn’t just around me. It was inside me, swallowing the air, devouring every sound except the roar of its own hunger while my ears rang from the explosion.
The remnants of our apartment lay scattered all around me and on top of me, while the taste of smoke coated my tongue and clawed down my throat with each breath I took. My lungs burned as if the fire had found a way inside.
“Raven!”
My mother’s voice sliced through the chaos, faint and breaking.
I turned toward it, coughing so hard my chest felt like it would tear open.
