Auburn hair spilt over her shoulders, framing a pale, doll-like face. She looked like she didn’t belong here, frail, almost porcelain in how delicate she appeared. Petite and quiet.
But the man beside her…
He kept rubbing slow circles on the back of her hand where it rested on his thighs.
The kind of touch I was familiar with was Zagreus.
Something told me she didn’t come here willingly. None of us did. But something was chilling about how tender he was with her, as if his version of love could kill.
Everyone had someone.
Except the ice-eyed man, Bianchi, and Victor.
But looking at them, I knew they were married. At least the former two. Because both of them had rings on their ring fingers. And the pale blue-eyed one had a small tattoo on his wrist, right above his pulse. I couldn’t catch it. But I recognised the initial.
S.
Written in cursive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Whispers of Sins
I sat there, pressed closer to Zagreus as his palm burned through my thigh.
A beat passed.
Then another.
The cards on the table lay forgotten. No one spoke, but they didn’t need to, not when their eyes said everything. And then, the one with palest eyes spoke.
“So, have you come to discuss the devil’s toy? Or are we still pretending it’s a myth?”
Zagreus sighs. “Lazarus is no myth. And Osman has it.”
A collective shift through the room, and eyes narrowed, postures stiffened.
Massimo leaned forward. “You’re telling me that madman got his hands on a weapon that can level countries?”
“Not just any weapon,” Zagreus said. “A Russian creation, designed during the Cold War, compact, untraceable, and catastrophic.”
Abel whistled. “Well, shit. That’s a party favour no one should have.”
Victor, as I had come to know him by that cold and deranged look in his eyes, set his glass down and adjusted his glasses. “And the Americans? They want it?”
Zagreus nodded. “Desperately. They see it as a means to tip the scales.”
The man with pale eyes grunted. “And you think I’d allow my homeland to be obliterated by our so-called allies?”
“I think,” Zagreus said evenly, “that if we don’t act, Osman will sell it to the highest bidder. And then none of us will have a homeland left to protect.”
The Asian looking man, who had been observing quietly, finally spoke. “Osman moves in shadows. He’s got a kingdom to protect and his royal crown. If he’s surfaced with Lazarus, it’s intentional. He wants our attention.”
Massimo snorted. “Well, congratulations to him. It’s working.”
The woman to my right shifted. The one wearing the blood red dress or whatever that was. She seemed quite interested in the conversation, unlike me and the one with the Asian looking man.
Zagreus turned to the pale-eyed man. “We need a plan, Judas. One that ensures Lazarus doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
