Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
However, just because they lived and breathed this place, it didn’t mean they knew everything. They weren’t privy to the recent trafficking or the greyish areas of our life. I protected them from things they wouldn’t understand.
The back of my neck throbbed as the room swarmed with members.
There was no space with the new arrivals; the air turned claustrophobic. The entire fucking Clubhouse needed an overhaul—we’d outgrown the building—but until we secured our future goals, we couldn’t move or renovate. Wallstreet’s orders.
The four women threaded around the room, smiling at their husbands and nodding respectfully in my direction. They all knew the rules: If you swear allegiance, you behave accordingly.
In a few moments, the women sat in their designated chairs and trained a menagerie of green, brown, and blue eyes on me.
“Sorry we’re late, Prez.” Jane, a mousy brown–haired woman, who, according to Muffet was a fucking dynamo in the bedroom, smiled.
Cleo never took her eyes off the newcomers, looking as if she’d never seen a woman before.
Silly Buttercup.
Didn’t she know me by now? Of course I would run my Club differently. How many nights had we stayed up late, switching the rules and brainstorming ways to improve this livelihood we’d been born into? Ultimately, I’d designed this Club in her memory. I’d created a place of peace for others, all while I lived a life of torment without her.
“Right, back to the meeting. You all know what we’ve been working toward. None of what we’re about to discuss will be new. However, we do have a new member and it’s up to us to inform her.”
The wives all turned their attention to Cleo. Interest and friendship sparkled in their gaze. Jealousy and pettiness was not allowed—they knew that. It was the one thing I was fucking strict on.
“Cleo.” I looked at my woman. My heart fucking swelled until it thrummed against my ribs. “What you’re about to hear is everything we’ve been working toward for four years. Not only was it put into effect to avenge your life, but also to save the lives of so many others.”
“Damn straight,” Mo said, tense with retribution.
“Eh, Kill?” Piebald’s wife, Melanie, piped up.
I cocked my head. “Yes?”
Her blue eyes landed on Cleo, her eyebrow raised. “You can’t honestly expect us not to focus on the first woman you’ve ever brought to a meeting. Who is she?”
The other women nodded. “It would be handy to know.”
Molly flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Kill doesn’t have to answer, girls. That is Cleo Price. Dagger Rose princess. Amnesiac survivor. Long-time lover of our president.”
Cleo’s jaw hung open.
I wasn’t surprised. Molly had an IQ to rival mine.
Not that that’s hard with how fucked up my brain currently is.
She was also sharp and quick-witted and kept the small business owners in line with just one stare.
“And now you’re one of us.” Feifei smiled. Her dusky skin and Chinese origins made her look like a perfect doll. She’d been an ultimate temptress, stealing Dodge’s heart and joining our family.
“Eh …” Cleo glanced at me, seeking help.
Our eyes locked.
I couldn’t hide my desire that Cleo would find happiness within this group. If she was to become completely immersed in my world, she had to become accepted and loved by the Club.
She was it for me. She needed to realize that—along with everyone else in this room.
I smiled. “This is our brotherhood, sisterhood … family. The sooner you get to know them, the better.” It was up to her to set rules and boundaries. I wouldn’t do it for her. I was her lover, not her fucking jailer.
Looking around the room, I knew some of us might not survive the upcoming war. Death wouldn’t take us easily, but nothing was guaranteed in our world. We all knew the risks. We all accepted them in order to do what must be done.
The room was packed with leather and humans—the sooner this meeting was over, the sooner I could get some fresh air. The pounding in my skull only grew worse the stuffier the air became.
Rapping the gavel on the table again, I cleared my throat. “Now that we’re all here. Let’s begin.”
Chapter Seventeen
Cleo
He loved it.
It was worth the excessive price tag. The moment I’d given Art the Libra-shaped eraser, something had changed between us. It was as if his eyes were opened, like he’d finally noticed me after all this time. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I knew that now, and I wouldn’t stop until he was mine completely. —Cleo, diary entry, age thirteen
“Rubix and Asus Killian, along with every member of Dagger Rose who won’t repent, will be slaughtered with no fucking mercy.”
The room instantly lost its friendly buzz, heading straight into cutthroat. Arthur’s voice—as deep and comforting as velvet—switched to a savage scrawl. “You always knew this day would come and I prepared you for it. You know what is expected of you and I also know what a sacrifice it might be. But they deserve to fucking die again and again for what they’ve done.”