“Tell me, why now?” These conversations used to intimidate me. They’d have me quaking in my boots as I stood before the Head, and on the verge of breathless collapse once they were over.
They don’t anymore. I can’t let them.
Fear and cowardice would result in my coercion. They would break my values and turn me into an obedient tool for whoever holds the reins of power.
“Why her?” I add, when he doesn’t answer.
“Because she has something I want,” the Head says, nonchalantly. He is trying to cover up his annoyance with a statement that’s sincere enough that I don’t have reason to pry further, but too vague to learn anything.
“And the girl. What role does she pla—”
A lightning-fast palm strikes my cheek. Protected by my mask, I hardly feel the impact as it flies off my face. I catchthe ivory before it falls to my waist, never breaking my stern gaze from the Head.
I keep my emotions in check.
Emotion is weakness. Weakness is death.
“This line you’re on borders on insubordination, Ghost.” A disgustingly satisfied twinkle flashes in his eyes. “You have no right or reason to question my decisions. Or have you forgotten to whom you’re speaking?”
“I haven’t.” I lower my gaze to show my surrender. Not out of want, but from a need to satisfy the Head’s belief that I will back down.
“Good. Then you’d be wise to stop prying and do as I’ve ordered.” He steps forward. I move aside to let him pass. “One last thing,” he says from the doorway, not bothering to look at me. “I expect punctuality tonight. We wouldn’t want to give our guests a bad impression.”
“Understood.”
“And it’s meant to be a jolly affair, Colter, so wear a smile.” He exits the room, before I can answer.
The envelope, stamped with the Head’s own seal, that’s been left on my desk contains a handwritten letter with negligible details of Maxwell’s involvement in a potential coup against the Head. It has no mention of any other members who might be willing to join the rebellion, nor details of how this information was gathered.
I read it twice and summon my team before issuing their instructions. Just research for now. We’ll need astrong plan of attack before we go anywhere near Maxwell Henderson.
But I can’t seem to keep my head on straight while talking to them. Though I should be fully set on the task at hand, my thoughts keep wandering away from me. Traveling far and wide through the deepest recesses of my mind toher.
The girl who has no part to play in any of our designs and yet, who managed to kick off a chain of events that will rattle the very foundations on which the Veil was built.
She better be fucking worth it.
Chapter Nine
Lilith
Mom fidgets when she’s nervous. Today, she’s bouncing from one room of the house to the next, tweaking and fiddling with anything she can get her hands on. She’s brushing her fingers along every surface, inspecting them for dust and making snide comments about the staff and how they’re not doing their jobs to her satisfaction.
“You look lovely, Lilith,” she says, dragging the point of her index finger along a painting frame on the wall.
“You too, Mom.” I am against this marriage, but I don’t have the heart to bring her down right now.
And if I didn’t compliment her looks, we’d both know I’m lying.
Having just turned fifty, Mom is entering her graceful age. She wears long, elegant dresses devoid of any real color. Golden, glittering accessories emphasize a level of distinguished class she’s spent her entire life striving to achieve. And her lightly layered makeup isn’t to hide any wrinkles. It’s to convey her aged wisdom and regality.
“Are you all set?” she scans a diamond-encrusted watch on her wrist.
“I am.” I hate the idea of her remarrying, silly as it might sound. But if it weren’t bad enough already, her secrecy about this whole thing is driving me up the freaking wall.
I don’t know anything about the man I’m about to meet. Not his name, his occupation or what intentions he has for their future.
Under different circumstances, I’d agree those details aren’t my concern.
