The fluttering of my heart now turns into a full-blown pounding. Declan wasn’t being duplicitous, and I was wrong in assuming he was. I was wrong. Or maybe Declan was just that cunning. He not only had me fooled, he also had his brother fooled. That’s possible, isn’t it? My brain feels like it’s racing at a thousand miles per hour, going through every single moment of my life leading up to my father’s death. All the pieces of evidence I collected afterward pointed to a cover-up. The evidence that pointed at Declan. It had to be him. He had to be the killer. Because if it wasn’t him, I just spent two months letting my father’s actual assassin run free. It would mean that I had failed my father. And I couldn’t fail him.
The applause from the audience dies down, allowing Declan to continue. “In addition to giving the speech, I have the honor and privilege of introducing the new leader of the Persian Tea Enterprise…” His lips form a subtle smirk as he states the cover-up company for my mafia. “Naser Ahzimi’s daughter, Zahra Ahzimi.”
A wave of startled chatter filled with confusion comes over the room. From backstage, I can’t hear anything specific, though I can guess what questions are being asked.‘Daughter?’ ‘Declan misspoke, right?’Lifting my chin up high, I step out onto the stage. The air in the room feels like it gets sucked outimmediately, as I look down at the crowd in front of me. To my left, the Ukrainian boss has a tight grip on his drink, his eyes distrusting and also…intrigued. He lifts his glass and tilts it in my direction. My heart skips. I wouldn’t dare call him an ally, but his acknowledgment is far from disrespectful. The Italians are staring at me with rage, as if they want nothing more than to rip me apart limb by limb. Typical. In the back, the Colombians look unimpressed, but that’s their natural state. Of all the scenarios I had imagined, the banquet hall remaining, for the most part, calm and collected, was not one of them.
I won’t fool myself into thinking everything is okay. This is the calm before the storm, and I have to remain alert.
Approaching the podium, I school my expression to one of indifference. It doesn’t matter how sweaty my palms are, how breathing feels like a chore, or how fast my heart is racing. No one in this room would know any of that. They would just see my exterior. Collected, unbothered, and calculated. A boss.
“Thank you, Declan, for that introduction and your family’s generous donation.” The power in my voice echoes through the speakers and surprises even me. “I appreciate your attendance today, in honor of my father and in support of the youth in our city who will greatly benefit from your kind donations. Tonight not only serves as a continuation of my father’s legacy, but also as my opportunity to formally stake my claim to my father’s empire.”
I pause for a moment, eyes flickering from table to table, making a mental note of who was likely already on my side and who I needed to convince. Anger was fine—an indication that they felt threatened by me. What I can’t have is patronizing looks or even ones of disregard. Neither of those emotions are close enough to fear, which meant they would be the first to come for me.
“I acknowledge this is the first time most of youin the room have ever seen me. And that unfamiliarity can be uncomfortable. But rest assured that my father has taught me everything he knows and that my family’s business and our partner’s will be in great hands. To those who we have partnered with for decades, I look forward to continuing our relations. And for the organizations we have yet to work with, please know that our door is always open.” I flash a lethal smile to the Italians, knowing they’re reading in between my lines.Fuck with us, and you’ll find out how much hell I can raise.
A beat of silence is followed by a slow, yet solid wave of claps, starting from the Ukrainians. The tension in my shoulders loosens. I won’t delude myself into thinking I’ve fully won everyone in the room over, but at the very least, I’ve staked my claim without any major public pushback. The claps slowly make their way around as Declan steps back up to the podium next to me and speaks about our continued allyship.
I keep my gaze aimed forward at the crowd, giving myself something new to focus on so I don’t roll my eyes at every other sentence he says. I won’t buy into his facade. As I scan the room, I’m hit with a variety of expressions. Jealousy, fear, envy, anger, and hatred. Hatred. My father taught me that expression is lethal.
In a blink, a man jumps to his feet and pulls out a gun, aiming it right at my chest. My hand immediately falls to the garter on my leg, reaching for my own Glock, but I’m too late. A loud pop rings through the hall, and in an instant, I feel the cold wood of the stage pressed against my cheek and a wetness on my skin. Moving my head to the side, I take in the pool of red under me. Blood. I’m covered in blood.
PART TWO
ALLEGIANCE
14
ZAHRA
There are too many sensations around me. Yells and screams from the attendees. The wet, thick blood that is coating my hand, the cool press of the hardwood stage on the side of my face, and the calming scent of cologne that fills my nose, paired with the warmth pressed on my back. Wait what? I whip my neck around and come face to face with Declan, who’s currently clutching his left bicep.
“Fucking bastard took a chunk outta me. I’ll rip his throat out,” Declan groans, a mix of pain and rage in his expression as he increases the pressure on his wound in a feeble attempt to stop the blood. How he even managed to get words out at this moment is beyond me. He attempts to stand and slips immediately on the pool of blood under him.
A pool ofhisblood.
Not mine.
Because he had protected me.
He’d shielded me from the bullet that was aimed right at my chest. Declan McAlister had saved my life, even though he had spent the past few weeks trying to kill me. Or had he? If hetruly wanted me dead, he sure as shit wouldn’t have just saved me. Dammit, this is all too confusing.
My head is spinning, I can’t think straight, and the general chaos unraveling in front of me isn’t helping. I need to get control over the situation so I can get some answers. Which means I also have to ensure Declan stays alive long enough for me to get to the bottom of all of this.
Declan groans again as he tries to stand and my patience snaps. I grip his chin and force him to look at me. Not a hint of fear is in his greenish-blue eyes as I hiss, “Stay down. The more you move, the more blood you’ll lose. I’ll handle it.”
Kicking off my heels, I’m on my feet a moment later, taking in the mix of fearful expressions from the politicians and disdain from the mob bosses. I’m losing them. Whatever progress I’d made tonight would be crushed if I don’t manage to win them back somehow.
Think Zahra, think. Check your surroundings, all possible exit routes. Where would the shooter go? Who would be the first person to chase after him?
Cyrus. The answer comes to me at the same moment I find him struggling in the back. He has his arms wrapped around the shooter and manages to wrestle him down to the floor. With his knee on the man’s back, Cyrus pulls out a knife from his coat and brings it to the man’s neck.
“NO!” I order into the microphone left on the podium, causing everyone, including Cyrus, to redirect their attention to me. I point my blood-stained finger at the shooter before curling it inward. “He’s mine. Bring him to me.”
The room stills and everyone snaps their head to the back, following along as Cyrus slowly brings the shooter closer and closer to me. I can see straight through the aura of indifference he was trying to put on. This man had failed to kill me, and now he would face his own death at my hands. By the timeCyrus is on stage, the man is fully on his knees begging for forgiveness, though he refused to rat on the person who put him up to this despite my pressing.
With my right hand, I remove my Glock from the garter and aim it at my shooter’s head. In my left hand, I bring the microphone up to my mouth and try not to cringe at the blood that drips down my arm. “Let this be a reminder to anyone who dares challenge me, my family, and my allies. When you take aim at the devil, make sure you don’t miss. Because if you do, I promise I won’t.”
I pull the trigger, and a moment later, the man drops in front of my feet, blood and brains leaking out of his skull. To the left, I see the governor faint, his security there to catch him. Somewhere in all the chaos, Aidan had collected a few members of my medical staff and rushed out on stage to help Declan—who was now looking at me like an angel who had come down from heaven to bless him. Clearly, the blood loss had made its way to his head.
