CHAPTER ONE
acelynn
Red speckleddots stained my hands, dried and dark against my skin. The sharp bite of cuffs dug into the sensitive flesh of my wrists as I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on the cold, reflective surface of the interrogation table. A greenish glow from the overhead light cast ominous shadows against the concrete walls, shrinking the already cramped room and increasing my panicked heartbeat.
Opposite me, a two-way mirror taunted me. The sensation of unwanted eyes on me behind the glass made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight. I glared into the panel, hoping my stare might remind whatever officer watching me who I was—what my family had been.
The door slammed open, and two men entered. The first looked barely twenty-five with a baby face that might’ve charmed me on another day, maybe from across a bar with music so loud you could barely hear your own thoughts and thesmell of cheap whiskey in the air. His chestnut hair was trimmed short, each strand carefully gelled into place. Warm brown eyes locked on mine, shining with something like pity. That was his first mistake.
Then there was the other one. Older, smug, the kind of man who thought his mediocre detective career made him untouchable. Gray streaked his black hair just enough to make him think he resembled a certain beloved TV doctor, but I would be the one to break it to him that even with all the primping he did on it, he would never come close to McDreamy. The smirk on his face told me he didn’t think I would be much of a challenge for him and his partner.
“Well, well,” the older one spoke, his voice slow and cocky.
The screech of metal against cement echoed off the stone walls as he yanked the chair out. With all the flair of a bad detective drama, he spun the chair around and straddled it backward, folding his arms across the backrest like he owned the entire precinct. His gaze pinned me in place.
“Seems like you’ve landed yourself in quite a mess, sweetheart.”
“Seems so,” I replied coolly, tilting my head with a mocking curiosity I knew would get under his skin. If he wanted to play this game, we could, but I would win in the end. “Though I would say the cuffs are a bit dramatic, Detective…”
“Parsons,” he replied evenly. “And that is Detective Watson.”
I smiled a bright, full-tooth grin at the young Detective Watson, causing him to shrink slightly into himself. At least I intimidated one of them.
“The cuffs stay,” Parsons’s voice pulled my attention back to him. He reached over to tighten them a notch.
I winced, hissing as the metal bit deeper. The chain clinked against the table as I jerked back. Parsons just laughed at my reaction.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Watson finally take his seat next to his partner. He shifted awkwardly, nerves practically bleeding off him. This had to be one of his first cases, maybe eventhefirst.
“First time, Watson?” I asked sweetly, voice sugary sweet.
He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against his throat.
I leaned forward, watching him through lowered lashes. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”
He cleared his throat, fumbling with his invisible nerves as I leaned back in my chair, waiting for one of them to begin the questioning.
Parsons slammed a thick manila folder onto the table. It burst open at the edges—papers, photos, and a single name scrawled across the tab:Spade.
My family’s name.
Years of criminal activity were reduced to ink on printed paper. And this was only what theyknewabout. What they could prove had been carried out by the Death Dealers.
“The Spade family,” Parsons sneered, jabbing a finger into the folder. The dirty yellow material of the folder bent inward with the pressure of his touch. “One of the top three crime syndicates in the state of Arizona. Claimed the Holbeck Valley just north of Lovelen. Charming little town.”
I bit my tongue. The Death Dealers held far more land than just Holbeck, but none of it mattered now. Everything we built, every club asset, every sliver of territory—it would all be handed over to the Knights of Lovelen on a silver platter. ToKaius Mordred.The man who had struck the match that had burned down my entire world.
“And tonight,” Parsons went on, voice thick with mockery. “Your whole family was slaughtered at their estate.”
The comment ignited something inside me—anger so hot it made my blood boil.
“How did you pull this off, Ms. Spade?” he continued. “You were barely involved in the club—shipped off to private school, far from the influence of the family business, when you were barely able to read. Not much time to learn the trade from states away.”
“You think I killed them?” I hissed. “I didn’t orchestrate this attack.”
Parsons leaned back and hummed, taunting me to give up anything that could incriminate myself. I knew better than to continue this without a lawyer present, but who was I going to call now that the club was gone? And I sure as hell didn’t trust a public defender against Parsons. All that I would get was a plea deal that pinned me as the monster in the Spade line.
He cocked his head to the side. “You’re the only Spade left standing. We found you over your brother’s body, leaving you the heir to everything. And you want us to believe that’s a coincidence? You’re the only one who would benefit from his death.”
