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“Good Lord,” he finally laughed. “You sound half-seas-over.”

“No, I...”

“As much as your private affairs thrill me, I have neither time nor inclination.”

I pressed my lips together.

He was right. Emotions had no place in our revenge plans against the Councils. His revenge plans. The ones I had committed myself to in the first place.

“I want you to come to the meeting place,” the lightness in his voice died abruptly, giving way to a grim darkness that reminded me that this man had undoubtedly lost his mind. Yet, he was holding the lighter in a city full of houses whose cracked facades were oozing highly volatile gasoline.

The family dynasties on this island could speak of divine providence that he did not intend to see everything go up in flames, but was pursuing his own vision for this place.

“Now.”

When I realized what he had just said, I furrowed my brow, because he usually arranged meetings between me and his discreet henchman, whom I then had to meet at ever-changing locations to hand over to him the things I had found out for our boss that were too risky to send via modern means.

But when he spoke of the meeting place, he meant a very specific location where not only his henchman would be waiting for me, but he would be there too, which– it should be noted – only happened once every few months.

“You... are in Blairville?”

A low chuckle sounded, sending shivers down my spine.

“Did you think I would leave my city to those hyenas for one more day?”

Chapter 62

Bayla

What Was I Made For?

Billie Eilish

Julie was feeling very unwell. She had been lying in bed all day and didn't want to talk to anyone.

Until three hours ago, I had been making sure she wasn't alone, but now Larissa had taken over, and I’d had time to lose myself in my own grueling spiral of thoughts that wanted to drag me down into that black hole I would run away from for eternity.

I had tried to distract myself with books, tried to ignore how lonely I felt when I couldn't spend time with the girls, but it had only gotten worse.

Something inside me was tearing me apart, and my wrists were craving my sharp nails, while the underlying melancholy in my chest made me long for something I couldn't even grasp.

So I borrowed Emely's Jeep and drove out.

Actually, I had wanted to go to the lighthouse, but in the middle of the Copeland Woods I couldn't keep the steering wheel straight anymore, so blurred was my vision from all the tears.

I pulled over to the side of the road, turned off the engine, and cried, ignoring the pulling between my breasts, because thinking about something unnatural growing on my skin didn't make it any better.

It was dark – only the moon watched over the cloud-covered island – but I didn't care as I left the Jeep and stormed into the woods.

A desperate part of me wanted to get to the coast, to the cliffs, to the beach. From there, I could make my way to the lighthouse.

It started to rain, so I ran faster, stumbling over branches and catching myself each time while thorny undergrowth dug into my pants and tore threads from my clothes.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, mixing with the cold, stinging raindrops.

What was I doing here?

I should have stayed on the estate.