Page 18 of Judgment Day

“You said it wasn’t a house.” She let go of my hands and sank back on her haunches. “You said it was a stable and then you... froze.” Her words were a broken whisper as she looked at me as though I was a ghost. “How do you know that?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I’d said the words out loud. I’d let the mask slip. This was never supposed to happen. No one was ever supposed to know. I’d never told anyone. The only people who knew were me and Winston. The men who violated me didn’t know whose face was on the other side of that door. They had no idea they were defiling a queen. For three years, I endured their torture. I’d suffered their pain. And then I found a way to be free.

I wasn’t a victim anymore.

I was a queen.

And I wouldn’t go back there. I couldn’t. I refused to belong to anyone else ever again, not even Grey. Once he learned the truth, he would never see me as an equal, not the way Winston had. I would be lucky if he even looked at me at all.

I had no idea what would happen next. Would I be sent back home to my parents where I’d spend the rest of my life wondering if someone was going to grab me in the middle of the night? Would I be given to another member of the Brotherhood as some sort of consolation prize? Would they send me to one of their torture houses? Or maybe they would kill me. I was a liability now. I knew too much.

Everything was spiraling out of control.

Anniston was going to be Regent. Chandler was on the Tribunal. Together, they had the power to set me free. No more Judgment Days. No more stables. If I was honest with her, maybe she would help me.

I met her gaze. “Because I was there. I was one of those girls once.”

Her mouth dropped. “Jesus, Sadie. Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because Winston would’ve killed him.”

She pulled her brows together. “Killed who? Whose life is worth putting yourself through that kind of hell?”

I took a deep breath. What else did I have to lose? Maybe she could help me find him, too. “My son.”

His name was Ciaran, and he was worth everything.

TWELVE

The Prime Mediabuilding took up five acres of real estate on the corner of 42nd Street and Rochester Avenue in Riverview, California. It was a simple building, three stories of brick and glass, nothing impressive. Anyone who didn’t know better would never guess it was a multi-billion-dollar streaming service with over two hundred million subscribers.

Gregory Byrne, CEO, had pulled strings to get access to my financial and phone records. As though I didn’t have people and systems in place to alert me when that shit happened. I let whoever it was think he was winning, leaked some fake information, then traced who it was going to. We’d recently sent thirty-four members of the Brotherhood their pink slips. One or more of those men had Liam killed. I wasn’t dumb enough to believe they wouldn’t try to retaliate. I just never thought it would be someone who was still a member.

Information was a deadly weapon when used correctly. I was an expert marksman wearing a bulletproof vest. People only saw what I allowed them to see.

In the end, his strongest case against me was one that couldn’t be found in bank accounts or text messages.

It was Lyric. He claimed that in the eyes of the Brotherhood, I couldn’t be trusted. He tried to convince them that I was weak because I let her go. I’d spent the entire fourteen-hour flight from Glasgow to Los Angeles wondering if he was right.

As I sat in a white leather chair in his corner office on the top floor, I decided he was wrong. I knew what I was doing when I let Lyric go. The society was flawed. It was up to me to change that.

The office was dark except for the moonlight creeping in through the wall of windows. It was before five in the morning. The sun hadn’t come up yet. Gregory’s office was the epitome of corporate America. Awards and books lined the golden oak shelves along the crisp, white walls. His desk was a large black stone piece with a black leather chair behind it and two white ones in the front. It was modern, clean, overstated.

The door opened and a light flicked on. He was right on time. I’d learned his schedule, had it memorized. He came in before everyone else. Good. Fewer witnesses this way.

I pulled a cigar from its tube and ran it under my nose. I rarely smoked, but fuck, I loved the smell. I waited for him to step inside before I spoke. “Hello, Gregory,” I said, my tone as dark as the sky outside.

The door clicked shut behind him as he took slow, cautious steps farther into the office. “Grey.”

I stuffed the empty tube back into the inside pocket of my suit jacket, leaving the cigar out. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

“Just surprised is all.” He stopped at the corner of his desk, never taking his eyes off me. I didn’t blame him.

I pointed toward his chair with the cigar in my hand. “Have a seat.”

He unbuttoned the two buttons holding his suit jacket closed as he moved around his desk, then slowly lowered himself into his chair. His mouth settled into a thin line, trying to appear intimidating, I supposed.

I pulled my cell phone from my other pocket, clicked on my saved videos, then set it on his desk with the screen facing up. Small talk was overrated. I’d wasted enough time flying across the world to prove a point.

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