Chapter 3

Three

LIVIA

My belly tightens with an even bigger laugh once Max realizes who I am.

“You look different,” he says, narrowing his eyes to take me in as if seeing me for the first time. After a leisurely scan of my frame, his gaze lands on my chest, and my skin hums under his lurid inspection.

“You don’t. Same overly confident little boy.” I’m gambling with my poker face. He’s wearing the same expression as our youth, still staring at me with wonder and fear. But his body has changed... Who knew my little lion would grow up to have such huge muscles with an equally massive cock?

His brow is heavy, eyes darkening beneath its protection. Safety or danger lay in their chocolate brown color, depending wholly on how cavernous the furrow sets. Subtle waves of thick black hair crown his head, which is thicker on top than the sides. Despite the rugged appearance of the stubble coating his sharp jaw, it’s very well-manicured along on the edges. Just like him.

“You knew it was me.”

A quick breath puffs from my nostrils. “Max, the entire town’s aware of your return,” I say, pointing to the cameras along the halls. “You don’t think Strauss saw you coming here tonight? Who do you think that couple we just fucked works for? People can’t just waltz into this sex club without a membership, without a medical test. You were led here.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?”

Sealing my lips into a purse, I change the subject. “Max, you’ve been gone too long and gotten soft.”

Crossing the little distance between us with two long strides, his rock-hard body almost collides into me, sweat droplets from his recent escapades steaming up my cleavage. When he leans over toward me, his lips graze the skin of my ear as his deep voice vibrates my pulse. “Nothing about me is soft.”

When he straightens up, the intensity of his stare makes it hard to breathe. I steady my chest rise so he won’t notice. Taking one hand, I slide it up his firm pectoral muscles, lingering over a set of intricate tattoos winding up to the sides of his throat as he presses his waist into mine. He’s right; he’s not soft. Already ready to go again. “You have no idea how things work around here anymore.”

“Then you’re gonna teach me.” As the breath of his words moistens my flesh, my neck erupts with goosebumps. Maybe scared little Max has changed. Thinks he’s going to catch me with his rod. I won’t let that happen.

“No, I’m not.” Turning around, I head out the door, my leather pants rustling with every step.

Avoiding the corner camera in the lounge, I slide a silver key out of my pocket and palm it. Before I take my hand out of my pants, I rub my index finger three times over the other little metal object still in its secure hiding place. “One, two, three,” I whisper to myself for luck.

It has taken me weeks of flirting with Janna and Duke to get this far. All it took was a fourth member to join us for me to steal the key from Duke’s trousers. I suppose Max was good for something. The couple were likely too busy trying to distract Max so he wouldn’t go exploring… Like I’m about to do.

“Night, Dove,” Gerald says from behind the bar as I pass.

“Goodnight,” I say, not smiling. If I do, it’ll be a dead giveaway something is amiss. I never smile. It’s for the weak unless you’re about to kill your prey.

Pulling out my phone from my back pocket, I tap “send” on the ready text. When I approach the hall, the lights in the bar shut off. The darkness muffles not only my eyes, but my ears temporarily, until murmurs float through the heavy wooden doors from patrons yelling in confusion.

Go time.

Feeling my way to the entrance of the back hall beneath the stairs, I slip inside. I’ve memorized the way, not wanting to use any light to draw attention to myself. Letting my fingers graze along the cold stone walls, I count the steps as I walk, careful of my footfalls. Once I reach the third door on the right, I feel for the smooth metal knob. I stick the key in with some fumbling, but the door opens with a jolt.

Before I can enter on my own, firm hands grip my biceps, pulling me inside. The door slams. I’m pushed against a hard metal shelf by arms with formidable strength. Hot breath caresses my face as the resonating tenor of a man’s voice reverberates over my ear. “Livia…”

A slick, wet tongue outlines my mouth before pain surges through my body as he takes my bottom lip between his and bites down, spurting metallic liquid on my taste buds. Tiny whimpers escape past my clenched teeth, but I try to contain anything further than that, not daring to give him the pleasure of hearing my agony. Fucker would only get off on it.

Light floods the room, and I squint away the brightness. When my eyes adjust, I’m met with Vladimir Strauss’s sunken cheeks and sculpted jaw. A red droplet lingers on his pale bottom lip. The upper one curls into a sneer as soundless chuckles escape with his quick breaths.

His tongue goes on a tour and licks up the splash of my life on his mouth. “You taste feisty.”

“Hello. Fancy seeing you here,” I say with confidence I don’t feel.

Strauss shoves his body fully into mine, his raging hard cock thrusting into my belly. With a shift, I put a little room between our waists, but his leather pants prominently display his large package. “You’ve gone where you’re not supposed to… Maybe I should do the same.” Reaching between us, he unbuttons the top of my pants. I know about Vlad; know what he likes to do to his conquests. And I’m not interested.

Racks of the weapons I need line the room, but everything is locked behind metal mesh cabinet doors. This is the farthest I’ve gotten on my information gathering quest. AKs, ARs, shotguns, handguns, fully automatics… I even spot a flame thrower ripe for stealing. Taking inventory for later, I focus on trying to get him to stop unzipping my pants. Raising my hands, I thrust my thumbs in his eye sockets, but he grabs both, forcing them to my sides, then twists me around to face the wall.

My chest huffs out an involuntary “oomph” as it’s pressed into the unforgiving stones. There’s just enough time to turn my head, so my nose isn’t scrunched. Biding my time, I wait for the opportunity to strike.

“Now, now, little girl. If you wanted it in your ass so bad, you could have just begged me.” Reaching around, he continues his assault on my leathers, tugging them down to expose my bare cheeks. I push back into him, shoving my butt in his crotch. He laughs. “I know you like it rough. I’ve studied your security footage. I just didn’t know you wanted to be torn.” Peeking up at the corner, the blinking red light of the camera mocks me. I should have known my plan had been too brash.

He’s likely been sitting in his castle at the top of the city, watching me every time I visited. Echoes told me she had taken care of his eyes... at least for tonight. But it seems as if my safety window is closing faster than I’d like. All his cameras are operational, which means that his spies are as well.

“Oh! Look at what a treat we have here. You came prepared, like my own personal piñata.” Strauss’s hot breath pulses over my neck as he speaks. “If I beat it, do you think candy will fall out?” Clenching my teeth, I shudder as Strauss pulls the butt plug from my ass swiftly, my exposed hole feeling quite vulnerable. “Don’t worry, I’ll be happy to stuff it with my cum.”

Years of jiu jitsu training kick in. I’m not useless. I just need to get him in the right position to gain my advantage. If he gives me a finger, I’ll take an arm.

Bending over, I wiggle my hips to entice him. Vlad’s large hand slides around my pelvic bone until he starts to dry hump me, loosens his zipper, then peels the crotch open to take out his cock. While he’s distracted, I subtly slide my fingers down to my calf boot.

Before he can react, I whip around with my fixed blade at the ready, nicking his throat with a quick stab. I miss the carotid but am fast enough that he stumbles back, clutching his throat without a sound. As he backs away, my hands yank up my pants, and I make a dash for the door. His heavy footfalls alert me to his presence just behind my left shoulder.

Pumping my legs, I don’t stop sprinting, leaping up the large stone stairs two at a time. When I reach the heavy wooden church doors, I shove with my full strength until they burst open, the cold night air hitting my skin like I’ve been doused by a bucket of ice water. It’s silent behind me. Strauss has either relented… or has set a trap.

Avoiding the obvious route, I dart to my left, toward town. Groups of people stumble out of bars or restaurants as I run down the sidewalk, pushing through the shoulders of annoyed patrons on the edge of South Side. Pulling out my phone, I practically scream into it. “Nine-one-one!”

“I saw, babe. It’s dark out there.” Echoes gives me the code that she has been shut out. I’m fucked. The call goes dead. Flicking my arm, I toss the phone into the thicket near the road in case it’s traced.

I keep my legs churning, pumping as fast as I can go. If I can make it past the Strauss buildings on the south end of North Side, I should be in the clear. It’s getting by his men that will be my biggest problem.

As headlights of cars drive by, I’m illuminated with revealing light. I monitor each passing window, seeing if it’s lowering enough to stick a barrel out of. Roadways are too dangerous, especially with the streetlamps and business signs showcasing my every move. North Side is filled with clean, tall skyscrapers, everything too new and bright to give me much cover. Once I hit the South, it will be easier, the neon lights of the casinos and strip joints casting shadows over the drunken patrons who loiter the streets. More people to mix in with for disguise.

The alleys of the short brick buildings of Ace’s territory edge closer and closer, the landscape changing from overbearing glass brutalist to modest mid-century. If I get between two, I can hide or climb onto a roof to make it to the southwest end of Main Street. Once I’m immersed in Donovan’s area, I’ll slip into the woods. And then home.

A sharp zing whizzes past my ear. Fuck.

The screech of tires over my right shoulder tells me the car is only a few feet behind and revving the engine. I’m a sitting duck. Especially if they try to run me over on the pavement.

Racing in a zigzag, a few more pings of bullets ring out around me. A coffee shop’s large glass front window explodes when I sprint past it, the people inside screaming in terror. I rush inside the shop as patrons try to escape chaotically, likely used to the violent threats that erupt every so often. Someone not falling in line with the consort’s demands, so everyone has to pay.

Shoving bodies out of my way, I make it to the back of the sleek, white-tiled store and push open the swinging black kitchen door. A barista dodges behind a counter, her eyes wide with fear. I stop and lean over, putting a hand on the cold stainless-steel surface, trying to hold my tired body up, heaving breaths of nourishing air.

I have to keep moving. I can’t stop. They won’t.

“Back… back exit,” I huff out.

The barista lifts a shaky finger and points to a doorway near the rear of the store.

Oh! I know where I am! If I can just get to the roof…

Once I enter the darkened alley, the condensation puddles from old air conditioning units echo my steps between the red brick walls. It’s cleared of men here, but screams filter in from the street. Car horns are honking erratically, but none travel past my alley. A fire escape ladder looks like my hope for rescue, its bottom steps almost down to the ground. Grabbing on, I use the full weight of my body to yank at it until it gives way, landing on the pavement with a loud crash. Like in my days of youth mounting a tree, I shimmy up quickly, heaving it back into position behind me so whoever was sent after me doesn’t see.

After seven stories, my body almost collapses onto the gravel roof. A rusted ventilation fan sits in the middle, its side still spray painted with a blue “V.” I drop to my knees and slide over to it, pebbles bruising my hip as I do. Reaching between the metal grate, I tug on the small door, revealing an alcove big enough for… my crossbow. It’s loaded and ready, the bolt a little worn, but it will do.

Before revealing my location, I stick my hand in my pocket, rub the hard metal object and whisper, “One, two, three.”

Shimmying on my stomach, I peer over the ledge to the street below. The black Mercedes is still parked at an angle near the front of the café, blocking any traffic from moving along the street. Two men look around with their guns pointed at the ground, speaking to each other words I can’t hear. One shrugs, and the other, with a tattoo on his hand, appears to point around the area. They haven’t spotted me. The tattooed hand guy pulls out his phone and yells something unintelligible into it, then shoves it back in his pocket. As the men get back into their car and drive away, a deep exhale eases the tension in my chest.

Rolling to my back, I let my skull rest against the sharp edge of the bricks. The chill of the night air restores some strength, and the night sky opens like a blank theater screen before me. My body rests as if I’d planned to be in this place at this very moment. But Strauss’s people could still find me, so I need to get out of this area and head farther south.

Fortunately, I know just how to jump across buildings from this height and the pattern to get to where I want to go. Alpha, our top spy, taught me when I was sixteen. Everyone knows she’s one of the best escape artists in the city, even besting Strauss’s men a few times, though they caught her once. She knows every crevice and hole as if she forged the city plan herself.

Eventually, I make my way over to Ace’s side of town and drop to the ground. Gnarled Pine Park is just a few hundred yards behind the wall of dirty buildings, gentleman’s clubs, small-time gambling centers, and even a mock gambler’s anonymous storefront, probably instilled when the government still pretended it wasn’t owned by our consort. The rolling hills behind it condense into the deeper woodlands. And my safety.

Once I reach the trees, I let my shoulders hang for a moment. I know these woods better than anyone, except for Ace. And he’s likely holed up in a poker game somewhere, too distracted, or drunk, to see his enemy waltzing through his backyard. Maybe he just doesn’t give a shit anymore.

Though I’m jogging slower, I don’t stop moving until I’m almost to the hidden lake. Slumping down in a coppice of ash, I catch my breath and listen for any followers. My skin inherits the iciness of the wind, but it’s not cold enough to fog my exhales.

I’m alone.

For a fleeting second, I consider staying overnight, but Cal will put out a search party for me and just cause more problems I don’t want. Shoving off the bark, I meander out of the woods, down the worn paths out of the trees, marking a “V” into some with my blade. The ground is cold and solid, at least, so I won’t leave many prints to trace.

It’s almost dawn when I stumble to the gates of Von Dovish Estate, clutching my side that’s been in a constant cramp for the last four miles. I’m so tired, all I want to do is bathe and sleep, but the adrenaline keeps one foot in front of the other.

Nothing like almost dying to make you want to live.

Where the Freidenberg manor is a tortured Gothic Tudor and the Donovan monstrosity is all modern, our home is cozy French Country. The high white plaster walls surrounding our property greet me before I reach the wisteria covered gatehouse.

Our old gatekeeper shakes his head with disappointment at my approach, then sneaks a pointed look at his watch. Hopping into his golf cart, I stumble forward and let my body slump into the passenger seat. The whir of the little engine leads us down the winding lane in no time. “Thanks,” I say as he heads back to his station with a small wave.

Opening the double glass entry doors, my lungs finally fill fully with air as I relax to the scent of roses and wood polish. I’m home. A housekeeper has already taken up the flowers that normally sit in the entryway vase and vacuumed the blue Persian Souf rug covering the black and white marbled floors. It’s late, but I know I need to check in with my brother.

Climbing the wide stairs, I turn right and trail my fingers over the white wainscoted walls all the way down the hall. Cal lives in his room, but I don’t bother knocking. He wouldn’t be fucking anyone, the hermit. He covers up his mousy brown hair with his dirty black hoodie, and despite my dramatic flop on his Louis XIV bed, he doesn’t swivel in his chair to look at me. Which means he already knows what I’ve been up to. Even though his body frame doesn’t move an inch, I can tell he’s disappointed.

In front of him is a wall of monitors, where he studies the replays of tonight’s excursion at the Crimson Angel. His shoulders are slumped as if he has been at this for a while, possibly since I arrived at the lounge.

The side of my face scrunches. “Echoes told you?”

Flatly, he responds, “She didn’t have to.”

“Alpha said⁠—”

Swiftly, he spins in his chair, his green eyes bloodshot from the blue lights of the screens. If his eyebrows got any closer together, they’d become one. Both hands come up and lower the hood of his sweatshirt as he runs his fingers through his waves. It needs a trim. Despite being twins, only our defined cheeks, big eyes, and cupid’s bow lips are similar. I take after our mother. Cal always looks afraid.

“Alpha has nothing to do with this. Alpha, Delta, hell, Foxtrot are none of your concern. Please, Livia. I’m begging you to let this go.”

He never says my name, at least never my full name. “Calum, I’ve told you before. We’ve been sitting ducks without weapons. If not Strauss, then Donovan, or now, maybe even Freidenberg could take us all out at some point. We’ll be no better than Max’s family, and then what? No more Von Dovish clan!” Sure, the skirmishes between clan crews have been raging for years, but now that Max is back… this could cause us all problems. Strauss won’t like it and he may just decide to end us all.

Spreading his long fingers out to his sides, he explains, “Our business is enough. We’re comfortable. We provide for everyone’s families on the west side. We’re safe.” Cal stands as I sit up on the edge of the bed, rubbing the blue velvet of his comforter idly to soothe my irritation. He slowly eases next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I’ve got us. We don’t need to resort to violence, weapons, or an armory to protect ourselves. Look at tonight, you almost got raped… or killed.”

“I didn’t.” My mind races elsewhere, calculating which informant snitched on me.

“But you could have.”

A heavy sigh escapes my chest, directed at my brother. We have had the same conversation for years. He’s never going to get past his pacifism, and I know what we must do to survive. Shrugging off his arm, I stand. “Did you watch everything?” My eyebrow raises, embarrassment flushing my cheeks at the reminder of tonight’s activities.

His wide lips curve into a frown. “Did I watch you have sex with Mr. and Mrs. Dean? Hell no. I think I would gouge out my eyes out after seeing something like that.” Relieved, I grin as I head toward the door, but he stops me. “So… Max is back.”

“Yeah, he’ll make good cannon fodder,” I snap back.

Softening his voice into that trance-like tone he tries to use, he pleads, “Liv, that’s not what I’m saying.”

I stretch my neck from side to side. “I don’t want to even think about it.”

“You’ll have to, eventually.”

Twisting the cool doorknob in hand, I say, “No, I won’t.”

“Liv, please don’t let our father’s indecencies stop you from your future. From our future. For the future of West Side.”

Without looking back at him, I head out of his door and slam it with a loud bang behind me.

I’m not going to think about Maximillian Freidenberg. I’m the one who needs to focus on our safety. Danger is at an all-time high right now with the lion’s return, and that makes us an involuntary target.

Cal always has his head in the clouds, living in some carefree world that doesn’t exist. He’s my brother, my twin, and I love him, but he’s not strong enough to do what needs to be done. We need to invade the arsenal and get those weapons. It doesn’t even have to be that arsenal and those weapons. It could be any of the ones Strauss took over… If only I knew where they were.

Citizens of Gnarled Pine Hollow have been prey for at least two decades, ever since the Freidenbergs left. Everything I’ve been through to take over the industry they abandoned has made my resolve solidify like the diamonds sitting in our family safe. I’m not giving up, no matter how much my brother protests. I thought my biggest hurdle was Strauss, but now I’m wondering if it’s my own flesh and blood.

Cal is too passive. He sits behind his computers and thinks he has a handle on everything. He says he can see what’s coming by reading those black and white digits floating down the monitor like water droplets. “The future is in those zeros and ones.” I don’t know anything about computers. I haven’t had to. I had him. And our spies, tanks, and hackers.

Echoes, one of our hackers, has lasted the longest out of all of them and I don’t think she would tell on me. It must have been Alpha, one of our spies. Well, Cal’s spy. Ever since she developed her little crush, she seems to be less of a lookout and more of a mole.

I’ll devise a plan to deal with her after I get some food and sleep.

Sneaking to the kitchen, I grab leftover eggplant parmesan. Vegan, of course, at Cal’s insistence. At least our chef prepared it well. Aside from disrupting Alpha’s life, I’ll order a steak tomorrow to make up for it. I sigh when I spot my brother’s dirty dinner dish lying next to the dishwasher, then put it inside with my own. Do men never learn?

Walking up the stairs, my body feels the weight of the activities from the evening. My bathroom is generous in size and just what I need before bedtime. The steam rolls off the large clawfoot tub as I slide in, deeply inhaling the eucalyptus scented salts while I dim the lights with the remote control. Another button allows me to select gentle rain sounds on the ceiling speakers. Hopefully, I can fall asleep without bother tonight.

Unfortunately, the television in my brain only shows re-runs of Max. Max’s muscles flexing as he plowed into Janna. Max’s neck twitching as he watched me lick Duke. Max’s thick, perfect cock. Max’s deep brown eyes penetrating mine as I came.

Diving a hand into the bubbly water, two fingers slide onto my clit as my thoughts focus on my lion’s stare, his jawline, his desire for me. Not enough pressure. The attached spray handle has always worked wonders with the water on full blast. Holding it over my sensitive flesh, I hump it while inserting two fingers inside. Max fucked me tonight with Janna’s mouth. It was obvious whose tongue he wanted on my pussy. Thinking about him licking his lip, gazing at me while fucking Janna, my inner muscles clench around my fingers. My back arches against the porcelain while I cry out, “Maaax.”

No. No. No. I do not want him. He’s just another stipulation I don’t need. I can do this on my own. Besides, he is from the enemy clan and Strauss forbids intermingling. If three families vote against him on the senate floor, he’s done for, but he’d probably destroy the city before he let that happen. So, we war against each other. It’s always been this way.

After drying off with a soft, white towel, my naked skin slips under my silky sheets. Before I fall asleep, I reach into my pants pocket on the floor and dig out my good luck charm, rub it three times, and whisper to myself. As exhaustion takes me under, I remember bright summer days playing tag with friends and my lion. Back when our parents made things seem safe for us. Not this apocalyptic nightmare we now know.

As children, it was difficult to understand what was actually happening when our mother and father would lug us over to someone’s basement. Whether it be the Freidenberg’s cold stone or Donovan’s white-walled tomb, us kids were never allowed to talk about the adults’ clandestine gatherings. They were just fun play dates, with us safe behind the high walls of whatever manor we were visiting for the day.

Now, with a better knowledge of the history of Gnarled Pine Hollow, I know these meetings were extreme rarities for the clans. Ones that would have gotten our families into a lot of trouble with the consort if he ever knew the three heads were together outside of the senate boardroom.

The next morning, I dress and grab a banana from the kitchen counter before heading to the entry. Our butler, Giles, wanders through the main hall. His stiff tuxedo makes my eyes roll involuntarily. “Heading out, Miss Von Dovish?”

Trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice, I say, “Yes, but I don’t need help. Just going to take the Victor out.”

“I’ll have the chauffer pull it around now, Miss.” I could just walk over to the garage, but our chauffeur needs to feel important. He also loves to drive my cars, no matter how much it irritates me.

My blacked-out Aston Martin pulls up, and I hurry out the door to slide into the driver’s seat as the chauffer jumps out. The engine purrs when I dart down our lane and onto the main streets, heading toward downtown. A few of our people wave as I pass downtown’s squared green glass tech district, but I’m going too fast to acknowledge them.

Throwing it into a quick parallel park, I get out and lock up, hurrying in the direction of an old storefront underneath worn brick apartments just on the outskirts of West Side’s center city. Some trash rolls over my feet before I can make it to the entry, and I try to snatch an old newspaper blowing in a gust of late autumn air, but miss. Feeling in my back pocket, I stuff two hundred dollars into Jim’s paper cup.

“Thank you, Miss Livy.”

“No problem, Jim.” Things are becoming worse around town. There used to be a middle class that afforded homes. Now, there’s just us, some people likely paid off by Strauss, the workers who can get into small apartments within the city limits, and hordes of people like Jim. I know what needs to be done and seem to be the only one willing to do it. We have to be able to protect ourselves from the tyrant running the city before he decides to simply end us all.

The glass door chimes when I push on its metal bar. Dust flares up with the wind, causing my lungs to ache and produce a dry cough. Our new employee, Jane, looks up from behind the counter, her green eyes wide and bright.

“Oh, hi, Livia!”

“Hey, Jane.” Glancing around, I don’t spot Cal.

“Your brother is at the other location. He gave me full rein here today… solo.” She smiles shyly. She is nice, but a little vanilla and wholesome, like I may break her if I tell her she left a decimal out of place. The only thing that makes me question her veracity is the flame of red hair that rests atop her head. Maybe that’s prejudiced, but it makes me think she’s zestier than she lets on.

“Actually, I’m not looking for him. Just here to check the inventory.” Pointing a finger to the back, I pass the rows of computers and accessories, heading to the black velvet curtain leading to the warehouse. I call it ours, but, really, I’ve never worked on a computer for a day in my life. Nor would I know the first thing about how to.

What I do know about is shipping tech parts and putting the mushrooms or other hallucinogens in with the supplies. It’s how our family makes money from other families outside Gnarled Pine Hollow, as well as within. It also keeps the populace happy. If they can’t have nice things, at least they can get high.

Wandering to the third row of metal shelves, my fingers dance over the switch at the same time my thumb pushes in a button. The structure turns, and a room opens in the wall. Concrete crumbles in the path where the doorway leads. I guess she hasn’t left in a while.

Shuffling inside, I am greeted with a small apartment that I haven’t visited in some time. It’s still messy and too dark, only lit by one yellowed lamp and the blue lights from the bank of screens. A curvy figure sits in front of them, her black hair in knots on top of her head. She pushes up her thick cat-eyed glasses and sits back slightly, grabbing a chip from a crinkly bag on the desk.

“What do you want, Liv? I’m busy.”

“Hello, Echoes. I want to know if you know why Alpha told on me.”

She rotates her chair toward me, shoving at the bridge of her fallen glasses. “Alpha did not.”

Raking my tongue over my teeth, I consider. If Alpha didn’t, then who did? Before I can ask, she responds, “I did.” My mouth opens to argue, but she continues. “I mean, I didn’t mean to. Cal got in… as usual. He saw me in there, in the Crimson Angel’s security and lights system. He’s the one who turned them back on.”

My head hangs. After tossing a foul-smelling Northview University sweater onto the unmade bed, I throw myself across the orange plaid futon. The trash can is overflowing with takeout boxes, some piled on the mini fridge it sits next to. There’s a sink full of dirty dishes near the hidden door. I don’t even want to look at the toilet in the corner of the room. She really needs to get out more.

Once I scan the room, I allow my eyes to meet her piercing black ones. “Did you tell him anything?”

Shoving the last chip into her mouth, she shrugs. “I had to, Liv. He’s my boss.”

“I’m your boss, too!”

She pauses for a moment, and I bristle, knowing exactly what she’s going to say. “Not like him, Liv. You know that.” Swallowing, she gives me a stern schoolteacher look. Quietly, she adds, “You know how things work in this city.”

Lying back, I stare at the acoustic ceiling tile and murmur, “Yes, yes. He carries our name. I’m here to be courted and married and bear the next generation for some sadistic mobster.” A sigh escapes my chest. It’s the way it’s always been for daughters of the clans. People like Echoes don’t have to follow the rules, but if you’re in a family, it’s heresy not to.

“Speaking of, I saw the video feed last night. Um…”

“Don’t even say it. You shouldn’t be watching. It’s weird.”

“I wasn’t watching you. Ew. I was mainly watching Janna. Yum. I mean, for your safety, of course. But I happened to notice a certain enemy has returned to Gnarled Pine and seems smitten.” She wiggles her eyebrows up and down rapidly.

Sitting up, I rake a hand through the back of my hair, fluffing my mohawk, then flip the tail over my shoulder. My elbows meet my thighs and, as casually as I can, I say, “Yeah, he does seem to be. I’ll use it to my advantage when I need it.”

“Maybe you don’t have to use it. Maybe you can work with it.”

I shake my head.

“You can’t do everything alone, Liv. You need other people to assist you with this mission. You need help.”

A snort leaves my nose. “Look what your help got me. Almost raped by Satan himself.” My legs carry me toward the exit without hesitation. This conversation will go nowhere. Max is from an enemy clan and us being seen together would draw the attention of Strauss and not in a good way. But, perhaps I can use his fascination with me to get the location of the armories.

Before I leave, I tell her, “You need to get outside more.”

“I’m fine where I am. Alpha visits from time to time. And I have all these people.” Her hand waves in front of the wall of monitors.

“Oh? Are you and Alpha⁠—”

“She’s just keeping me company. Don’t start.” One of her index fingers wags up and down at my face accusingly. “I gotta get back to work.” The desk chair groans as she pivots back to her work.

Echoes is completely in love with Alpha. Who seems to be in love with my brother. If I can encourage Alpha away from my twin and into Echoes’s voluptuous arms, I could kill two overly involved birds with one stone. They would be so busily in love with each other, Cal wouldn’t keep all his eyes and spies on me.

Before I step through the door, Echoes remarks, “Say hi to Max for me.”