Page 33 of Silk and Sirens

“I could have taken everything from you,” she said, her voice eerily composed. “Your father. Your sisters. I could have erased your entire bloodline. But I didn’t. They remain untouched because you chose this. Because you offered yourself instead, and now I own your voice, your body, and your fucking soul.”

Renley’s hands slipped from my shoulders as Selene rose gracefully to her feet.

“You are nothing but my puppet,” she continued, her voice smooth as silk as she began to circle me. “But it seems I’ve allowed your leash to run a little too long.”

Her nails dragged along my arm, her footsteps slow until she was behind me.

“I trained you,” she murmured, bending close enough for her breath to ghost against my ear. “Taught you how to weaponise your beauty. To create a spy network capable of bringing anyone who dares oppose me down.”

Her nails slid upward, pressing just enough into the side of my neck to remind me how easily she could tighten her grip.

“You were overdue for a reminder,” she whispered, “of who you belong to.”

“Is that why you hurt Olivia?” I asked, my voice hollow. Angry, although I couldn’t show it.

Selene stilled, lasting barely a second before she let out a cackle. “You clearly didn’t learn from the last time you used that pretty head of yours.”

I knew as soon as Graham had mentioned cutting out her tongue. Selene had a thing about silencing people, but I didn’t want to believe it. Because that meant it was my fault Olivia was dead.

“Why?” The last time I’d been punished, I’d infiltrated a party where the guest list had a direct thread to my sister. I’d convinced myself the risk was worth it, but I’d been caught. And in retaliation, Selene had taken my old assistant. She’d cut out her tongue while she was alive, and then killed her as a statement, a reminder that curiosity came with consequences. That every move I made without permission meant she would hurt someone I cared about.

“Just to remind you how little power you really have.” Her head dipped closer, her cheek pressing against mine. “That no one you love is safe. This is your last warning, Aeris. This time it was one of your Sirens, but next … next it may be one of your nephews.”

The numbness cracked, and anger surged through the fracture, sharp and violent. It spread beneath my skin until I felt like I might split open from it.

“You didn’t have permission to involve that detective,” she continued coolly. “So understand this: every time you go off script, I will punish you harder.”

I closed my eyes, drawing in a slow breath as Selene moved away, her tone shifting to one light, almost playful.

“You’ll do whatever I tell you to do, no deviations, and certainly no befriending law enforcement unless I ask.”

I opened my eyes to find her already seated again, legs crossed and lips curved into a smirk.

There was no point fighting. Not yet.

Her father had been one of the most infamous gangsters in the city, but his death in prison brought everything he’d built crashing down. Selene was left trying to piece it back together, fighting to reclaim even a sliver of his authority even after all these years.

“Caden not falling for Vivienne has been a disappointment … But, even so, it’s time to escalate the plan.”

I held her gaze, even as my heart thudded hard enough to ache against my ribs.

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

Chapter 15

Caden

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The punching bag rumbled beneath my fists, the leather creaking as I hit it in a steady rhythm. Every single punch landed, the strikes perfect even as the skin on my shoulder pulled tight with each effort.

Debussy’s Suite bergamasque swelled in my ears, the delicate piano notes clashing beautifully against the brutality of my movements. I repeated the sequence again and again, knuckles striking leather, breath sharp and controlled even as heat built deep within my muscles before spilling down my arm in a slow, spreading ache. Still, my form never slipped. Every strike was perfect.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Movement in my peripheral, nothing but a shadow crossing the floor that had me turning, fists ready.

Sebastian stood in the doorway between my home gym and the hall, one shoulder resting lazily against the frame as if he’d been there for a while. Raven, his favourite tarantula, sat content on his shoulder. She was unnervingly still, as if observing me with the same quiet judgment as her owner.