Page 1 of Ambition

MADS

Rig Croft kneels before me, head bowed and brown eyes staring at the cement floor. My best friend since we were kids, both our fathers were working within Writhe.

They’re dead now. Perks of the job.

Rig is naked, his white skin decorated with shallow cuts, rivulets of blood snaking down his spine, curving beneath him, dripping onto the gray floor. His dark hair is cut close, and I can see where he is balding around his temple. Signs of our age, but our rise, too.

Tomorrow night is Solemn, a ritualistic party for the older men of Writhe, of which both Rig and I qualify.

Tonight has no name. No set itinerary.

Instead, as rain lashes against the roof of my compound located in the rural outskirts of Alexandria, and Rig and I meet in the gloom of my basement, this is a ceremonyIcontrol. One passed down in its haphazardness, a bestowing of power to the next in line.

Last week, I took control of Writhe. My predecessor has slipped away to a foreign country, undisclosed even to us. He vanished, like he never led at all.

Now,it is my turn.

I twist the knife in my hand, my best friend’s blood slick along the blade.

We create our own rituals, this passing down of power.

For me, I have a tattoo of our former leader’s name inked over my heart, at his command.

For Rig, I want something less permanent, allowing him to maintain the illusion of autonomy. But he must bleed for me all the same.

And yet… I want him to know precisely who he is being maimed for.

I lift up the red mask over my face, resting it atop my head as I inhale the cold, crisp air of the basement.

“Look up,” I whisper, staring down at my shivering, bare friend. My second-in-command.Duo,his official title.

Slowly, he lifts his head, brown eyes searching mine in wide wonder.

I see the slice over his throat. The jagged, healed blood left behind. I do not know how long we have been here. Time has no meaning when we connect like this.

But tomorrow, before Solemn, he needs to bemine.

Writhe’s.

We are somewhere between a secret society and a criminal organization. Beneath owners of Alexandria like the 6 and their children, the Unsaints, but above other gangs like Vipera, who dabble too deeply into coke and guns andnoise.

Writhe is meant to silence them; quiet them at the very least.

None of that is my concern tonight, even as Rig’s daughter, Isadora, is currently on a job for Writhe, sent into Vipera’s compound as a sexual sacrifice.

It should be enough for me, to prove Rig would die for me. I am Isadora Croft’s handler, a young woman I have known all my life, like a niece. And although Rig has declined to learn specifics on his daughter’s assignment, we all know the weapon she carries into Vipera is her body.

And Rig has not made a move to stop it.

Perhaps because of what we saw Isadora do seven years ago in the early hours of Halloween when she was only seventeen. Maybe we are both a little afraid of her and know any intelligent man would be the same.

Or we are just accepting of the wickedness that comes from belonging to this life.

Either way, it should be enough, but I like myDuounbreakable in loyalty and bond.

Slowly, I reach out a hand to Rig’s face, cupping his cheek, stubble beneath my palm as he remains on his knees on the concrete, at my mercy.

“You put no one before me,” I whisper, seeing my breath cloud in the dimness of the basement, flickering flames from deep blue candles the only light, surrounding us both.

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