The silence that followed wasdeadly.
Already in my room, already too late to stop it, I winced as I quietly shut my door then leaned my ear against it.
Ras added, almost as an afterthought, “You’ve never made my star cry. I like that about you.”
I cringed, just waiting for it, and Van didn’t let me down.
“ANIYAH! What the fuck is this demon talking about?!”
Oh, shit.
I dove into bed, yanked the covers over me like they could shield me from everything, and squeezed my eyes shut.Sorry, can’t help—already asleep.Honestly, I’d never been so relieved to be told to go to bed in my entire life.
24
VAN
“Idon’t know why you're so mad,” Rasmus said, voice quiet but needling, his eyes narrowing at me from over Aniyah’s computer screen. “I told you I didn’t mind that you’re with Aniyah too. In fact, I learned a lot about what she liked by watching you.”
The fuck he did.
The words lodged in my throat like broken glass. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The ache in my chest wasn’t metaphorical; it wasliteral. The sharp, twisting heat curled around my ribs and squeezed.
That word,boyfriend, played on loop in my skull, every repetition another knife under my ribs.
She could callhimthat, but it had taken heryearsjust to kiss me. Years where I waited, loyal and silent, pushing down every instinct, every craving. She wouldn’t even talk about us being mates, but she’d givehima title?
My feet moved before I could, leaving Rasmus calling out to me, asking me where I was going, saying we had so much to talk about.
Possessiveness twisted through my veins like a vine, coiling tighter with every breath I took. My body tensed, every muscle screaming for me to move, todosomething. I wanted to storm into her room, shake her awake, and demand she look me in the eye andexplain.
Throwing open the doors to the balcony instead, I took a breath of fresh air, hoping it would calm my racing heart, but instead it only made it bleed.
Why was she doing this? Why did she have to go on stage and fuck that wolf? Why did she have to keep me at a distance?
I didn't understand her, understandthis!
The distant thrum of music from a nearby bar drifted through the air, mixing with the city sounds below, the shuffle of footsteps, the screech of tires, cab doors slamming shut. New York’s chaos wrapped around me like static, blurring everything until my thoughts finally stopped screaming.
Only then, when the noise outside became louder than the one inside, could I breathe again.
In that moment of clarity, I realized I had lied to myself. Ididunderstand her.
Three years by Aniyah’s side had taught me more than I wanted to admit. I knew the woman who’d rescued my sister from hell. I knew the woman who’d burned her name into my chest without ever touching me.
She was the youngest in a family of monsters, brilliant, brutal, loyal monsters, and that carried its own weight. They adored her, spoiled her, and let her run wild, carving out her empire in stilettos and sequins. Admirable? Sure. But I knew the truth buried under the glitter.
The climb always looked easy when you were being cheered for at the top, but when you paused long enough to look down and realize how far there was to fall? That fear, that pressure, that made people spiral.
Aniyah wasn’t bratty. She was breaking, but she did it in the most breathtaking way possible.
Her choices sometimes looked reckless, her temper a fast-burning fire with no target, but I knew better. She wore pressure like perfume, always trying to measure up, trying to match her siblings’ combat skills even though her power leaned into charm, not carnage. So, she chased something else. The money. The spectacle. The soft power. And still she carried the weight of proving she was just as lethal as they were.
Sometimes, I thought she saw them as idols—untouchable, perfect—but if she looked closely enough, she’d see just how often she stood shoulder to shoulder with them.
I sighed. Of course, none of that made the situation easier.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, snapping me out of my thoughts, my sliver of peace gone too soon. That was the curse of being the right hand of a Syndicate boss. You never really clocked out.
