Page 3 of The Secrets That Kill

I had no intentions of the latter. Even back then.

When the Knights came knocking, I was more than ready. Primed to take my place among those like me.

Because if you don’t have the urge to climb shaking ladders of morals and wear pristine clothes to hide the rot underneath, when you don’t chase fame, when you finally have the billions, then…the world is there for the taking.

And I’m here to fucking take.

The Knights have a place to meet, to let loose, to talk in the open. But here, even in a place where navel gazing isn’t anoccupational hazard, it’s a prerequisite, talk is dangerous. It’s why Malone pushes the envelope.

I allow it because he knows the rules of the game. And he wants something. I’m always interested in that.

“So…Broken Angel?”

My next job. Bring down the fucker behind the string of clubs. It’s going to be involved. It’s going to take patience. And skill. My skill set.

“Let’s say I was asked.”

And I was. This job comes with all enticements an Obsidian Knight wouldn’t turn down. Stakes in the power game. Real power. Stuff most would kill for.

“By a higher up?”

“Yes,” I say. I take another sip of the single malt and check my watch. The chaos Malone wants is going to happen soon.

“It’s not going to be easy.”

The request also comes with an offer I’d be a fucking moron to refuse. But that’s not why I’m taking this on. The challenge is more than there, but that’s not the reason either.

“Since Orion isn’t here,” Malone says, his voice monotone as if we’re at some board meeting and not in the middle of a party, “I’m guessing Cara, his latest fuck piece, is here to help you out tonight in his place.”

Then he turns to me, a sinister smirk on his face.

“Or maybe the tasty little morsel she just brought in here with her is.”

“She’s off limits. Stay in your fucking lane, West.”

He’s right. Ivy is here for me. The job at hand means I need a certain kind of girl to bend to my will.

I can taste her name on my tongue. The sickeningly sweet coating and the bitter center colliding all at once.

Ivy is the exact kind of girl the depraved who play in the depths of the Broken Angel sex clubs want.

“Henderson won’t be easy to get.”

I lift an eyebrow at Malone.

“Plenty have tried. Broken Angel has a lot of information and blackmail-worthy stuff that’s kept him alive.”

“You want something.” I pose it as a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

That’s all he says. I don’t push.

In ten minutes, Cooke will hit the floor. Malone will feed off the chaos. And I’ll make my next move.

I’m not bothered by the untouchables. And I’ve known of the fucked-up shit that happens in the bowels of Broken Angel.

I don’t give a fuck.

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