“I did, yes.”
Kane didn’t know what to do with his body. He shuffled aside, feeling ungraceful in a way that he rarely did, and allowed the kingpin to enter.
Ward wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside, scouring the dark space before focusing back on Kane. “Have you been drinking?”
He didn’t see why it mattered. He gave a noncommittal shrug, and Ward exhaled in disgust.
“Alone in the dark, at that. Where’s Master Collins?”
Kane indicated with his chin. “Asleep upstairs. Can we get to the point? I take it you know what I wanted to discuss.”
“I can guess.” Ward’s lips twisted, wry and cruel. “Does it have anything to do with the charming Miss Mendoza?”
Her name in the kingpin’s mouth made Kane’s blood run cold. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but Idoknow you’ve been trying to have her killed.”
“A hefty accusation.”
“Don’t you fucking touch her.”
Perhaps it was the alcohol that made him bolder than usual. Either way, it was a mistake. Ward rotated to face the door, beckoning with a single finger, and the next moment two men filed into the entryway. They were enormous, seeming to take up much of the room. Kane recognized them immediately. Davies and Yardley tended to work alone, though they sometimes accompanied Ward to help him deal out his own personal form of justice. Kane had never liked the men, if only because they had never been frightened of him.
They advanced toward Kane, each taking hold of one of his arms, and shoved him into the nearest dining chair before his whiskey-addled mind could comprehend what was happening. His pulse skyrocketed as he struggled against their viselike grips.
“What the hell?” Kane spat, wildly seeking Ward’s impassive face. “What is this?”
Ward watched the scene play out with icy disinterest. “You know, boy, I’ve been watching you. Making sure you don’t step out of line. A good thing, too.” He nodded to Davies, and the enormous, well-dressed man grasped Kane’s jaw roughly with a hand.
Pain lanced down into his neck, cutting through the haze of intoxication. He attempted to turn his face away, teeth clenched, to no avail. “I haven’t—doneanything.”
“Ah, but is that the truth, Kane?” Footsteps sounded beside him, and Ward’s face came into view a moment later. His eyes were liquid malice. “Tell me, then: When I gave you this assignment, what was the main thing I requested of you?”
Panic spiked in Kane’s blood, and he had the wild thought that he was glad not to be sober just now. “I don’t—”
Ward held up a hand. “Before you proceed unwisely, I recommendyou take a moment to consider your next words. If you lie to me, Kane, I will know, and it will be all the worse for you.”
It was the truth. Ward had always known when Kane was lying. It was impossible to con the man who had made him so good at it.
The kingpin laid a hand on Kane’s cheek. His skin was cold. Ward hadn’t touched Kane like that in years, and Kane hated theyearningit instilled in him. He wanted to push the feeling away. To lock it up in a tiny box and throw away the key. He was not the boy he had once been, desperate for validation and tormented each time it was withheld. He was no longer the child who had so badly wanted a father figure.
That child was broken. Mangled by reality, crushed by false hopes, and bruised by disappointment.
Kane would have slapped Ward’s hand away, but his arms were still restrained by Yardley and Davies. He settled for jerking his chin to the side. “I’m doing everything I can to bring you that damned necklace. If you’re going to be picky about the circumstances under which I obtain it, perhaps you should have done it yourself.”
He knew it was a mistake the moment he uttered the words. There was a reason Ward had brought these men with him: Dainty inkedx’s weren’t going to cut it. Not this time.
Yardley grabbed Kane by the throat, his thick fingers unyielding. Kane gasped and choked for breath, having no free hands with which to fight. Shadows began to fill the edges of his vision. His head throbbed and spun. For the first time in years, death seemed like a real, immediate possibility, not a threat looming in the distance.
He hated Ward. Hated him with a passion unmatched even by his desire to impress the man.
Sometimes, when I watch other people die, I imagine they wear his face.
It was what Kane had told Zaria in his bedroom. And yet it only seemed to be true half the time. Kane didn’t know how to reconcile the two halves of himself that Ward had created.
“Enough.” Ward’s voice sliced through his fury. “I think he gets the point.”
Kane glowered, straining against Yardley’s grip.
“What did I make you promise me?” Ward asked. He tilted his head, surveying Kane as if he were a dissected specimen flayed open on a table. “When I ordered you to the steal the necklace, what did I say?”
