He held it out.
I stared at the envelope like it was a live grenade.
“You’re going to sweet talk Selena.” Angelo’s voice was smooth, unhurried, like he wasn’t asking me to tear open wounds I’d spent months trying to ignore. “Get close to her. Ask her to accompany you to the party. And then you’re going to slip into Piaget’s office, steal the shard, and bring it back to me.”
The words were like a noose squeezing my neck tighter and tighter.
Sweet talk Selena. The woman I’d called a disgrace to her face. The mate I’d thrown away like she was nothing.
Use her. Betray her. Again.
“I rejected her, Angelo. The mate bond is broken.”
He shrugged. “My sources say she still pines for you.”
My hands curled into fists on my thighs. “I’m not going to hurt her again. What happens if I don’t accept your offer?”
Angelo’s smile didn’t waver. He glanced at Enzo, casual as if he were deciding what to order for lunch. “Then my enforcer pays your mother a visit.”
The words cut into my heart.
“I hear she’s forgiven you, but those emotional wounds,” Angelo continued, his voice soft. Almost gentle. “She’s still recovering from what you did to her. Such a shame—she defended you, didn’t she? Told your father it wasn’t your fault. That you were possessed.”
“I was fucking possessed.”
He tilted his head, dark eyes glittering. “She still loves you, Rocco. Even after you broke her cheekbone. Blackened her eyes. Fractured her ribs. Left her bleeding on the floor.”
My chest seized. I couldn’t breathe.
“It would be tragic,” Angelo said, “if someone finished what you started.”
I lunged.
The chair toppled behind me. I didn’t care. I was going to rip his throat out, consequences be damned?—
Enzo and Dimitri caught me before I made it two steps. Iron grips on my arms, yanking me back. I thrashed against them, a snarl tearing out of my throat.
“Let me go?—“
“Don’t be a fool.” Dimitri’s voice was low and hard in my ear, all the mockery stripped away. “He’ll kill you. Then he’ll take his revenge on your family anyway. Your mother. Your father. Dante. Is that what you want?”
I stopped struggling. My breath came in ragged gasps. Enzo’s grip didn’t loosen.
Angelo watched me from behind his desk, utterly calm. Like I was a bug throwing itself against glass.
“Sit down, Rocco.” He gestured to the overturned chair. “Let’s discuss terms.”
Chapter Four
Vex
I met Joy for coffee at Café Monde.
The café was packed—tourists with their cameras, locals with their newspapers, families with their sticky-fingered children. So many people here I could possess. So many souls ripe for the taking.
But they were ordinary. Not what the king ordered.
Joy slid into the chair across from me and set down a tray of beignets, powdered sugar dusting the wax paper like fresh snow.
