We would kill them. First. Before hope could corrupt them.
Before love could make them weak.
Before they reached the blades?—
And destroyed everything we were.
Chapter 18
Alina
Standing in the shadowed hallway, Balthazar leaned in, his voice a venomous whisper.
“Layla must be eliminated—woman to woman. Kill freely, my love. I’ll take care of Malik.”
“It won’t be that simple,” I murmured, eyes glittering. “I plan to have some fun with her first. You’re right—she’s sickeningly sweet. Like those Sugar Plum candies from the Enchanted Confectionery on Regent Street. Too sweet. Too soft. Ripe for corruption.”
He pulled me into his arms and rocked me gently, almost lovingly.
“Finally, my eyes are open,” he growled. “I see now how completely I’ve been deceived.”
A thrill surged through me—dark, erotic. Visions of vengeance and exquisite torment danced through my mind. My body ached to celebrate. I pressed myself closer, eyes heavy with desire.
Balthazar smirked, sensing the shift.
“Later, my sweet,” he said, brushing a kiss against my cheek, maddeningly chaste. “We’ll celebrate once the trap is sprung.”
“How do we begin?” I asked, my hand grazing the bulge in his trousers, fingers teasing.
He tapped his lips, brow furrowed in mock thought.
“I have it. Go back in and keep them distracted. I’ll retrieve a powerful sleeping draught I’ve stashed away. I’ll return withchampagne—laced, of course. Once they’ve had their fill, they’ll drop like flies. Then we drag them to the dungeon.”
A wicked laugh escaped me. “Oh, this is going to be delicious.”
Balthazar grabbed me and kissed me—rough and fast—before vanishing down the corridor, eyes gleaming with shared purpose.
I straightened my gown and returned to the drawing room with a radiant smile.
“My apologies for the delay,” I said smoothly. “We discussed a proper celebratory drink to toast this exciting new journey.”
Malik and Layla pulled apart a touch too quickly.
“My apologies for the… display,” Malik said, his emerald eyes glowing affectionately. “My beloved and I can’t seem to keep our hands off each other.”
Layla flushed and looked away, the color rising in her cheeks.
“Nonsense,” I said with an airy wave. “True love should be celebrated. This era places far too much value on modesty and pious restraint. I find such rules tedious. Please, sit. Balthazar will return momentarily with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.”
I let my brows rise with dramatic flair.
Layla beamed and turned to Malik, clasping his hand. “Sounds divine, doesn’t it, my love?”
“Without a doubt,” he murmured, eyes locked on hers.
Good god, I wanted to retch.
I kept my smile in place, sugar-sweet and polished to perfection. “If you two don’t stop swooning over each other, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to drag Balthazar off to my chambers and put on a far more inappropriate display.”
