“Did you manage to speak to your mum before we left?”
The outside world blurred to nothing, the window becoming a smear of lights as the car carried us toward the edge of the city.
“No,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper in the darkness. “She still refuses to speak to me.” A pause. “She’ll understand… right?”
Violet had set boundaries, and I was actually proud. Even if it hurt her.
“She’s just scared,” I said gently. “She’ll come around.”
Violet nodded. “I just… I don’t really know what she went through, not really. This is the only thing I can do to save her.” Her eyes met mine, and once again I was taken back by the colour.
Yes, I was the one who’d insisted on the contacts, but with the wig and the makeup specifically to hide her freckles, it didn’t look like her.
And I hated it.
“It’s going to work out.”
She blinked up at me. “You believe that?”
“I do, because you do.” I cupped her jaw, my thumbstroking along her skin until I pressed against her bottom lip. “You’re not alone in this.”
Her cautious smile burned something deep in my chest.
“One word,” I murmured, “and we leave. Okay?”
She shook her head. “We don’t leave until we get something. Anything that connects to Mr C. We stick to your plan.”
I wanted to argue, to tell her again that we could walk away. But the car began to slow, and the moment slipped through my fingers. We rolled to a stop outside what appeared to be a generic office building.
The kind of place that could’ve easily been a call centre if not for the two armed guards flanking the entrance.
“You ready?” I asked.
Turning to face me in her seat, she nodded. “Do it.”
I reached around her delicate throat and clicked the necklace into place. It was a choker, thick, black, with the words ‘WHORE’ in the centre.Christ.
Slipping my mask on, I adjusted Violet’s for her before we stepped out into the cold air.
“Invite?” the guard on the left grunted, holding out a hand.
He and his friend wore black masks that covered their eyes like a budgetBatman.He studied the expensive card longer than necessary, eyes flicking between us and the embossed lettering, before finally giving a curt nod to the guard on the right.
The inside was anything but generic. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high, exposed beams, scattering fractured rainbows across the dark hardwood floors. Velvet sofas and low lacquered tables were arranged with deliberate elegance, all angled toward a small stage where a five-piece orchestra played.
I sweptthe room quickly, memorising every member of staff and possible exit.
“Bloody hell,” Violet whispered, accepting a champagne flute from one of the many waiters weaving through the room. Canapés, champagne, cigars—everything you could possibly want circulating as if money wasn’t an object.
“Aeris was right about the masks,” I muttered to her, keeping myself close as we walked through the crowd.
The men wore grotesque, almost predatory designs. All sharp angles and hollowed eyes, while the few women present were adorned in delicate, feminine pieces that glittered under the light. Most wore a similar choker, and even a few of the men who were kneeling on the floor, heads dipped.
“What is this place?” Violet asked, people turning at her voice.
I caught her wrist immediately, guiding her aside with a low murmur. “I’m getting the impression you’re not meant to speak.” I flicked a glance over her shoulder, noticing the way several men leaned together, whispering as their eyes followed her.
“Jesus,” she whispered, and of course, that’s when a bastard in a devil’s mask waddled over to us.
