Page 105 of Dukes of Peril

It’s only four words–barely a sentence–but it might as well be a sledgehammer with the way my chest caves.

“Vinny?” Remy calls out. “You out there?”

Swallowing, I tear my eyes away from the screen, shuffling slowly into the kitchen. Davis and Manny are on the counter, Remy and Nick at the table, Sy standing in the middle of it all with his hands buried in his pockets. The birthday cake is a gruesome carcass, but even if it weren’t, I’ve lost my appetite.

“Story just messaged me.” I hold my phone up, clearing my throat. “It’s the Countess.”

All of them are staring at me, but Sy’s the one to speak, lip curling in distaste. “Let me guess. Another depressing revenge scheme is brewing in North Side.”

“That’d be red.” Remy’s up in an instant, searching my eyes. “This is green.”

Clutching the phone, I explain, “She OD’d this morning.” The words fall with all the grace of a boulder. “She’s dead.”

The car ridehome is quiet. Remy sits next to me in the backseat, strangely still. He’s not moving at all, other than to rub his thumb in an idle circuit against my knee.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, after meeting Sy’s eye in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.” His inked fingers lift my chin. “Are you?”

It’s not like I have the right to be anything else. Sutton was an enemy. Her boyfriend was killed by one ofmyboyfriends. My family did this to her. My father’s Viper Scratch. His Count’s recklessness. My Duke’s revenge. It’s like my name is all over this, but in all truth, I barely knew her–never wanted to.

Still, something dark gnaws at my chest as we arrive back at the tower, and by the time we reach the main floor, it hasn’t gotten any lighter.

It’s not just about Sutton.

It’s about my sister’s skull, the only part of her that this town spat back out, sitting in an unmarked grave. It’s about the woman who sat across from me an hour ago, asking me to save her sons. It’s about the woman who once loaned her a weapon, even though they were rivals, because my mother knew something I’m only just figuring out.

Royal women arewomenfirst andRoyalsecond.

Remy and Sy both disappear into their rooms, but I stand beside the couch, watching as Nick methodically unties his boots. I’m not sure what makes the question break free. I just know that it emerges like a hiccup, unstoppable.

“Would you let me leave?” I ask.

His back is curved into an exhausted bow as he leans down, forehead creasing. “What?”

“If I tried to run again,” I clarify. “Would you stop me?”

Nick’s fingers go still for the briefest moment, tangled in the laces, before he yanks them harder. His reply comes low and harsh. “Why would you ask me that?”

My eyes narrow as I watch his stiff, jerky movements, palms prying the boot from his ankle. “Why aren’t you answering?”

His eyes fly to mine, flinty and hard. “Why are you pretending you don’t already know the answer?”

My breath escapes in a punch of shock, although I don’t know why it should. He’s right. Some part of me has been aware of this, too cowardly to face the truth. “So I’m still your prisoner.”

“You’re my girl!” he snaps, bolting to his feet. He extends an arm, jabbing a finger toward my loft. “I told you that night, there’s no going back for me. You heard me–I know you did. So why are you bringing this up now?”

For a moment, his reaction renders me speechless. His nostrils are flared, shoulders tensed into a hard line. When I finally find my voice, I say, “I thought things had changed.” That’s the crux of it. I was arrogant enough to think I was different–that there’s a happy ending in this for us.

I was right, I think.

We all end up in a box.

His eyes widen in disbelief. “Look around you. Everything has changed!” He gestures broadly, and at first, the glint of frenzied rage in his eyes throws me off. “I’m not here for me. I’m not out there in Northridge chasing down rich kids because I give a shit about their pussy Preston turf wars. I’m not standing up and leading this frat because it’s some fucked up dream of mine.” He stabs a finger in my direction, insisting, “I’m doing this because it’s whatyouwant me to do. And now what? You want to leave me?”

Suddenly, all the fury and weirdly intense panic make sense.

I lunge forward, taking his face in my hands. “Nick, no. I didn’t say I wanted to leave.” He’s so tense that he barely budges, not lowering his chin when I strain up, pressing a kiss to his stiff jaw. “I just need to know I could.”

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