Everyone heard the scream. It cut through the pounding electronica like a knife through butter and all heads turned to a woman holding a neatly wrapped gold box. Once it was clear no one was dead, they continued to party. The music never stopped.

If the music stopped, there would be death

“Oh my God,” the woman continued. “Oh my God, oh my God.” She was a “princess” at the club, but really just one of Lucia’s whores. I never got any of their names. They were just called princess. I still wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with me, but I suspected.

The present she held was elegantly wrapped in gold leaf with a now untied red satin bow. Her grip trembled and she looked around with bright, blinking eyes. The red ribbon fell from her shaky grasp, twisting down to the floor, catching the movement of everyone around her. Lucia’s men swarmed her and I wanted to get there before she disappeared like the others. After the previous night, I felt like the box was a message.

I didn’t know what the fuck I’d been thinking going back after the night I’d killed Big O. I could have been murdered or captured and tortured, but I hadn’t been able to control myself. My eyes trained on what little of the present I could see, every molecule in my body wanting to see how he’d responded. I squeezed through people, trying to get to the princess. Even though she was clearly upset, no one cared.

Mirrors wallpapered the walls and dangled from the ceiling. In the darkness, they became like water at night. Instead of seeing a clear reflection, I got glimpses of shiny objects like a sequin dress or a man’s expensive watch. Everyone wore the latest in haute couture, and all the men wore black tie. I stood out like a sore thumb in my jeans and t-shirt.

Tea lights floated in the darkness, reminding me of Disneyland—or at least the pictures I’d posted on my wall. Of course the princesses here were trapped and the magic was just smoke and mirrors.

Lucia’s club was unlike any I’d been to before. All kinds of debauchery went on here—gambling, whoring, and if they didn’t want to have sex, rape. I thought I’d seen the depths of depravity with Anteros, and then I met Lucia.

When Lucia had taken me up here the day I’d carved Anteros, I’d hoped we would leave New York City. My city of fairytales had transformed into one of nightmares and I wanted to get out, but we’d only gone deeper, into the heart of Manhattan. She’d stopped outside of a building with no name and we went inside. I realized now that was how they wanted it. In this clandestine, dirty world, everything is a secret. Even their very existence.

Now that I was close enough to the princess, I saw red stained the edge of the gold foil wrapping paper. Dread filled my gut. The princess had tears in her eyes, was mouthing something to a soldier as two more approached her.

“You don’t like pretty dresses?” Someone breathed into my ear, pulling me against him. “I can get you pretty dresses.” His breath was stale, like his lunch was digesting and he hadn’t bothered to brush his teeth.

“You must be new here,” I said, peeling myself from him. No one touched me. Lucia had a rule about it, I assumed. The men watched me—they all watched me—and sometimes that felt awful, but then I remembered the basement, and I shut my thoughts the fuck up.

“I thought the rule was you girls didn’t fight.” Be more obvious you are the scum of the earth, I thought as he tugged me against him. You’d think the asshole would get thrown out, but not in this club. In this club, his perversions would merely be redirected to the right caste of women.

I looked beyond him as he pawed me, into a mass of sequins, satin, and tuxedos, where the princess held the box. She was being shepherded to the basement and if she went down there, she would be lost forever. I couldn’t lose this opportunity. I shoved the man, knocking him off kilter, and ran through the club. Everyone was always too stuck in their debauchery to notice anything other than a good temptation, but I definitely caught the eyes of the soldiers as I reached the princess.

“You can’t be here,” a soldier said, but I ignored him.

“Please,” the princess begged, gripping the box until flesh turned white. “I didn’t do this. Someone delivered it. It’s not my fault.” For a second I was trapped in her despair, forgetting the reason I’d rushed to her. I believed what she said, but it wasn’t going to change her fate. Then a soldier grabbed my collar and dragged me backward. I quickly looked into the box while I had the chance. The gasp that escaped my throat was involuntary.

Blood, so much blood. I’d only ever seen something similar at the butcher. Now I understood what the stain on the corner was. I put a hand to my mouth.

It was someone’s heart and eyes.

I should have been disgusted, but I chewed on my bottom lip, mesmerized like Pandora.

I was so entranced that I almost missed the card—gold like the present, with lace on the edges. It was beautiful, feminine, and that somehow made it much more sinister when contrasted with the box’s contents. As one soldier dragged me back into the club, two others closed the gap I’d made, and I just barely read it.

I’ll catch you, mio cuore. Be my queen.

* * *

A few hours later, I sat in the courtyard. Even though it was cold as fuck, I wasn’t alone. On the opposite side, a man pawed a princess. A whore—no, that wasn’t right. A whore got paid. A whore could leave at the end of the night. She was no more than furniture, to be forgotten and ignored unless someone wanted to use her. As if she knew I was thinking about her, her eyes traveled across the maze of hedges, catching mine. Like a coward, I looked back at my closed book.

I skimmed the soft, linen pages and thought of the one I’d left outside Anteros’s club. Not only had he read it, he’d responded. Maybe I should have been disgusted by his response, but I was enthralled. The contents reminded me of that brilliant moment when my knife had slid into Big O. But of course he knew that. I pressed a finger to my lips, eyes wandering over the razor flat tops of the hedges, the memory of Anteros still scorching.

Once I’d started searching, I hadn’t had to look for him long. It started with a picture, a square Polaroid that ruined everything. One day in the kitchen, I overheard a few soldiers having a conversation. Until then I’d been able to pretend. I pretended the deep chasm in me didn’t exist. When I went to bed, I pretended I didn’t dream of him every night. That picture shattered everything by reminding me how shattered I was.

“He’s the Beast again,” one had whispered, holding the photo between his hands so tight he practically wrinkled it. Not just the mafia nickname, but what had instilled fear in so many men. When they’d left, I’d picked up the photo. It had showed Anteros as I’d found him the night I’d killed Big O, having shed his bespoke suits for skin and muscle and blood. It awoke something in me.

I’d listened to the soldiers, the De Lucas who hung around all the time—anyone, but it wasn’t until I went back to the hotel where I’d lost myself to him on New Year’s that I’d pieced it together. I hadn’t expected to find anything, but the minute I’d walked inside, the concierge called me over. He was nervous, looking left and right before reaching his hand beneath the desk to place something in my hand: a chess piece. It was the black king, the onyx triangle I’d used when I’d beaten Anteros at chess. Underneath it numbers were etched, longitude and latitude—a map from Anteros himself.

I thought if I just saw him, I could take back control. I could just see him and let go, but truthfully I was following the tug, and it only got stronger the closer I got.

I ran my touch along the worn edges of my paperback, feeling the fuzzy, frazzled white edges. Everything around me blurred like paint running down canvas, leaving me with nothing but the memory of my night with him. I couldn’t see the green hedges, or the snow, or the stone walkway, or the way the girl stared into my soul as a man pawed away bits of hers. I pressed my thighs tight together, holding my breath. The breeze settled.

Big O’s blood—red and spilling onto the concrete—popped into my mind. I opened my mouth on a long exhale, closed my eyes, and slid two fingers between the pages. The book was hot on my lap, thighs sticky with sweat.

Say you fucking need this.

I wondered whom the heart and eyes belonged to, but I didn’t think it was particularly important—at least not for me. The who belonged to Lucia; the statement was for me. He’d wrapped up his Beastly nature and given it to me, offered to share it with me.

I need this.

“Mistress Pavoni.” I jumped at Nikolai’s voice, book falling to the snow and making a shadow in the powder.

“What did I say about calling me that?” I snapped before quickly grabbing the book off the ground.

“All right, princess.” There was a dark, mocking tone to his voice. It was hot, poking, and it hurt. I folded my arms, shoving the book under one. That wasn’t what I meant and he knew it. People might call me princess, but that didn’t make me one. I was surrounded by people who lived and breathed this darkness, who’d grown up in it. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.

Lie with your mouth all you want, the truth is between your legs.

The memory came crashing back and it made me hot and confused. I got tongue-tied. I opened my mouth, but only squeaks came out.

Nikolai smirked. “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe some other animal?”

“What do you want?” I hissed. Nikolai was a fucking snake. He was working both sides, and though he swore he was only a double agent for Lucia’s team, I didn’t believe a word of it. The only side Nikolai was on was his own.

“Donna Lucia is requesting you,” he said.

“I’m busy.” I waved him off, sitting back down. You can’t wave off Donna Lucia, but I wasn’t about to follow Nikolai. “Fuck off,” I added.

A war was going on, the Second Blood War, as I heard Lucia call it. I remembered reading about the beginning of a war in Sofia’s journal, but I wasn’t sure how it ended. I could guess, based on our current state of affairs, but that was all I had. Guesses. I was woefully in the dark as usual. I hadn’t even been able to take Sofia’s journal with me when I left. I’d thought about grabbing it when I’d snuck in to grab Paradise Lost, but I’d run out of time. Even though Anteros wasn’t staying at the penthouse, I’d nearly been caught when Tough Tino showed up as I was leaving. Sometimes I think I’m two people, and the second person wants me dead.

Gabby refused to talk about her mother. She was rarely angry, but she got furious if I brought up Sofia. Regardless, whatever had happened last time, now the Pavonis were split between Beast and those intent on keeping the blood pure, those who supported the princess, who supported me. But I wasn’t a princess.

I was Frankie.

“Just Frankie…” I mumbled aloud, absently fingering the diamond rose pendant. When I was with Anteros, I was transformed, dark in a way that was completely intoxicating. I didn’t question who I was. I didn’t question my wants or desires. I didn’t question the fact that I enjoyed presents filled with body parts.

“I imagine you’re tired after how late you got in last night,” Nikolai cut in.

“You’re still here?” I said, turning back to him. His cold jade eyes probed me. Though I met his glare, inside I was shaking. Did he know? When I snuck out the back entrance and went to steal the book, I’d been sure no one had seen me. Maybe I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought, though. After all, it was the first time I’d attempted anything like this. I’d never even snuck out during high school. I’d been too sick, and it wasn’t like there had been someone waiting for me. Still, I wasn’t about to be threatened. I was done being threatened.

Standing up, I quickly walked back toward the club before I could hear another word Nikolai said.

* * *

As I reached the door, my hand stalled on the knob. I really didn’t want to go inside. I looked at my worn sneakers melting patterns into the thin white sheet blanketing the cobblestone. When I’d been with Anteros, there was hardly a full hour in the day when it didn’t snow. Now only the occasional sprinkle dusted the ground like powdered sugar. In a few months, it would be warm and I could see the courtyard in my mind’s eye: flowering cherry blossom trees, pale gold light peering through the hedges.

On the outside, the building was like all other Upper East Side buildings with clean beige stone—nothing to do a double take over. On the inside…well, the inside was like a castle come to life, but I knew better than anyone castles could be cages. Case in point, Nikolai approached me from the courtyard.

“She’s waiting for you on her floor.” Nikolai opened the door next to me and went inside. I blinked, the familiar fish-out-of-water feeling that had been constant since selling myself to Anteros thick in my gut, except here it was like everyone had a fishing pole. I waited a moment, wishing I had another option, before following. The door slammed shut behind me, but no one noticed.

It was hard to see, the contrast between outside and inside so stark, and I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the dark. Nikolai had disappeared, but that was easy to do here. This was the first floor and you were expected to vanish into sin. Everything dripped opulence and fantasy; nothing went down on this floor that wasn’t conducive to the illusion.

There were four floors total. The first led to the street and housed the courtyard and main club. The second was where my and Gabby’s bedroom was. I’d never been to the third and topmost floor, Lucia’s floor. Then there was the basement, where I wished I’d never been.

I was at the foot of a massive, winding staircase that spilled out onto the floor like melted wax. Lucia practically beckoned for me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to go upstairs. Too much was on my mind. Not one night back with Anteros and I’d killed someone—but that wasn’t why my heart hammered. It was because a dark, twisty part of my soul reminded me just how much I’d liked the kill. It pointed out how I’d stared at his lips when he’d sucked the blood from his thumb, wondering what it tasted like. All I’d wanted to do was chase his tongue into his mouth and lick the coppery taste from it. Every part of me ached for it. I never did get to taste Anteros after I carved him…

You’re so fucking hot for this, you’re dripping down my hand.

“Frankie!” I jumped at my name, feeling like I’d been caught in my memory. I turned to see Gabby walking toward me. Unlike me, she blended in beautifully. She was dressed in a flowing floor-length gown with glittery gold embroidery. Gabby had chopped off her long blonde hair and now it fell beneath her jaw in an angular cut. There was one bold pink streak in it that she tucked behind her ear as it flew around her face. There was something edgy about it, but also elegant. Gabby herself was edgier, though. She’d gained weight in the month we’d been away and was no longer waiflike and sickly. No doubt the freedom from her husband had given her space to grow.

Gabby started talking animatedly, but I couldn’t focus, mind locked on Lucia. When I’d first arrived, Lucia had gone on and on about being glad she’d found her family and I was so excited. At the time I was still naive; I thought she was my grandmother in a cookies-and-milk way. I asked her so many questions. Who was my mother? Was she still alive? She’d called me granddaughter, so I’d thought that must mean I was a Pavoni, but then Papa couldn’t be my father because she wasn’t related to him. Was the mom I knew her daughter?

She’d laughed and said, “In time, child.” A week passed and I asked the same questions, but again they remained unanswered. Another week into it, I got frustrated. I was somehow more in the dark here than with Anteros. I went into the basement searching for answers, but after what I found, I realized Lucia would never be that person.

“Did you hear what I said?” Gabby asked, moving her head to cut off my view of the basement’s door.

I blinked, bringing her bright blonde hair into focus. “Sorry, no.”

“Frankie, I have news,” she said, exasperated. “I’m going to meet with Levi! Donna Lucia is letting me.” There it was. The reason I still didn’t sleep well, the reason I continued to look over my shoulder. Donna Lucia was letting her. It may have seemed like we’d escaped, but there was something inside me that said we’d only traded one penthouse prison for another. My gut screamed that if Lucia was letting Gabby see Levi, it was for some reason beyond love, but Gabby was so excited. I didn’t want to burst that bubble. I smiled and told her it was amazing. I was excited for her.

“Want to help me get ready for my date?” she asked. I looked up the grand staircase. Lucia was waiting for me, but memories of what had happened the last time I’d been alone with her were fresh like a cut.

“Frankie?” Gabby lightly touched my arm. “Will you help me?”

I forced a smile to my face and said, “Always.”

* * *

After helping Gabby get ready, I sat in her room, unable to move. Night had fallen and glittery, dancing New York city lights trickled into the room. I watched them dance across the floor, thinking. About Anteros. About me.

Gabby had a room similar to mine, though mine was more opulent. A four-poster bed draped with silky fabric, a billion thread count sheets, and ornate furniture were the themes of both rooms. Light spilled in from big windows swathed in gauzy, feminine drapes, making it appear cheerful and enchanted and beautiful. It was all a lie, the beauty nothing more than paint thrown over rotting wood. I’d fallen for a beautiful room once, and I wouldn’t do it again. This was all simply a gilded cage.

“Emilio is becoming a problem,” someone said right outside the door. I straightened my back.

“I admit I was holding out hope he would have killed himself by now,” Lucia replied, and the person laughed. I sucked in my breath, fearing they would hear my inhales and exhales through the door. As far as Lucia knew, Gabby’s room was empty. I pulled my knees up to my chest, held in my breath, and stuck my ear out.

“He’s still smoking weed, hasn’t moved to the hard stuff yet,” the man replied.

“I won’t have rumors of a Pavoni Prince threaten what I’ve built, especially when that prince is nothing more than the son of a cuckolded councilman. How long will Sofia De Luca’s whoring plague me?” Her voice drifted out of earshot and I let out a big exhale, breath blowing hair from my face. So much had been said in those few sentences, so many new questions were born, but I knew Lucia would never answer them.

I stood up and tiptoed to the door, pressing my ear against the cool, silky painted wood. All I heard was silence. Then the subtle creak of the window being opened behind me stilled my blood.

We were at war, but up to that point I hadn’t really seen any of the danger. I’d been warned I was a target, but the most blood I’d seen was inside the present earlier that day. Even then, that wasn’t violence begotten from anger. It was beautiful. It was passion. It was boiling, raw emotion, and it was all for me. My heart thudded as more noise sounded behind me. I spun around, not sure what to expect.

When I saw who it was, my heart leapt. I was simultaneously terrified and excited. He shouldn’t have been here, but I was so fucking excited that he’d come.

“What are you doing?” I whispered. “You can’t be here.” Anteros sat lackadaisically on the windowsill, one leg draped and touching the hardwood. He was like a boy who’d climbed through the window of his high school crush. A crooked, infuriatingly beguiling smile twisted the corner of his hard jaw. Unfreezing, I ran and pulled him from the ivory window before someone outside saw—if they hadn’t already.

Anteros jumped off with ease and I curled my fingers in the soft fabric of his shirt, a simple red v-neck this time, and he was wearing a hoodie with jeans, too. It was like he was trying to blend in—but he was massive, shoulders dwarfing the window he’d just come through and having to bend his neck to look at me. I was certain if anyone looked up, they would see us, see his frame shadowing the window.

“I was hoping you’d let down your hair for me,” he replied, wicked grin breaking both cheeks. His hand scored through my hair, knotting it. “When you didn’t, I had to climb up.”

“You can’t be here.” My words were too breathless. I fought the urge to fall into him, his touch, his playful words—reminding myself who had just been outside the door.

“Did you get my present?” He raised a dark brow, and for a moment I was lost, distracted by the impossible color of his eyes. I’d never seen anything like them, eyes that had infuriated me by the simple fact that I loved them even when they had been hateful. Seeing them trained on me, sparkling with humor and lust and all trace of hate gone, turned my legs into jelly.

“Yes,” I said, focusing on keeping my voice steadier than my legs.

“Did you like it?” He tilted his head, pressing his lips to my neck. I nodded, getting lost in the sensation of him. Blood hammered in my veins like a heavy musical beat, pulsing, thrumming, driving me to a crescendo. The hand in my hair tightened and he pulled me back so I had to look into his eyes. “Words.”

“I liked it,” I responded in little more than a gasp. He went back to my neck and I asked, “Who was it?”

“Governor Dubois,” he said simply. I almost lost myself in him, in his tongue at my neck and his words vibrating along my flesh, but a memory broke me out of it.

Governor Dubois is in league with the mafia and this new senator is just a puppet.

Senator Hatch had screamed that Anteros was working with Dubois the night of the Christmas party, but Dubois had been the one in the box? I didn’t understand. I thought back to what Lucia had said about Emilio.

I just didn’t understand any of it.

“But—” I pulled away, brow furrowing. I wanted to know what was going on. I didn’t want to be in the dark anymore, dammit. Anteros gripped me, palms on either side of my face, and devoured my lips, cutting off any train of thought.

“Leave this place.” His voice was a hoarse rumble, bluegreen gaze shadowed under our foreheads still pressed together. The need—the urgency—pierced my soul. He tightened his grip on my skull, thumbs digging into my flesh. “Come back with me.”

I still didn’t know anything about my real parents. Nothing. I shared my concerns with Anteros.

He dropped his hands from my face. “You don’t need to know any of that.” I scoffed; he said it with such callous certainty—a callous certainty about what I needed, as if he knew my own wants better than me.

I spun away, putting distance between us. “You don’t understand. You’re—” I struggled with the right words, but Anteros beat me to it.

“Orphaned?” Dark amusement colored his words.

“You knew them,” I said, pressing on. “They’re dead, but you knew them.”

He laughed caustically. “It would have been better had I not.” I still didn’t know much about his parents, just that he hated them. I rubbed my arms, focusing on the door instead of what he’d said. It was ivory with gold trim—beautiful. Just once I wished I could see something ugly, to remind me of the truth.

But that was only found in the basement.

“Fall with me,” Anteros whispered below my earlobe, closing the distance between us. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back to his chest, voice low, making my skin tingle. “Be my queen.”

I craned my neck so our eyes locked. “Are the Wolves gone?” His silence told me the truth. I wouldn’t be his queen. It would be just like here, like Lucia’s slaves with the names of princess. There was no way for me to integrate into Beast’s world, not without destroying everything, and he wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t ask him to do that, either.

I wasn’t really sure what I wanted in this war. I wasn’t team Lucia, but I wasn’t team Beast, not if it included the Wolves. I was team us, but that team couldn’t be. Without him I was lost, but together was an impossibility.

It wasn’t until Beast that I saw a future, but it was a dark one. Something I was afraid to say aloud, or even in my head.

“I don’t know what I was thinking sending you that book,” I lied, gesturing between us. “I don’t want to be killing and-and,” I stuttered as he pulled me closer. “I’m not this person,” I lied again.

“You are exactly this person,” he growled, biting my ear and pulling at it with his teeth. “You fear yourself more than you fear me, more than you fear anyone, because you know what you can become.”

Damn him, because he was right.

“I—” I tried responding, tried formulating another lie, when the sigh of floorboards cut me off. My blood stilled—someone was in the hallway.

“Go.” I hurriedly pushed Anteros toward the window. “You have to go. This isn’t even my room.”

“I know. It’s Gabriella De Luca’s.” My eyes widened. He grinned. “You girls have been very naughty. Murdering husbands. Tying up bosses. Killing Wolves.” I stopped pushing him, the memory stalling my movements. He threw me a knowing smile and I pressed harder against his chest, getting back to work. “I’m still surprised Gabriella had it in her,” Anteros continued as I shoved him. My heart pounded as I heard feet approach, but Anteros didn’t give a shit. His smile widened as he made me push him.

“So was her husband,” I gritted, pushing him. He laughed. Goose bumps rose at the foreign, wonderful sound, but it was too fucking loud.

“Shut up,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder.

“I still can’t figure out who helped you escape, who really helped you. Gabriella might be smarter than I thought—a grapefruit would have been smarter than I originally thought her to be,” he added as an afterthought, “but she didn’t pull it off on her own.”

I paused, hands splayed on his chest.

Nikolai.

Nikolai had helped, and he was still helping. I needed to tell Anteros there was a snake in his house.

“Anteros I need to tell you something,” I whispered as footsteps arrived just outside the door. Anteros swung one leg out the window, grin still on his face. He gripped my face again and pulled me into a kiss.

“Next time, mio cuore.” His breath was steamy against my lips. We were just a thread away from one another, and I could smell his skin, could practically taste him, but even still it was too far—agonizing, the pull too intense, like someone was stretching the very skin off my body.

“We can’t meet here again,” I said, licking my lips, wanting to reach out and taste him, but knowing if I did I would get lost and we would get caught. “It’s too dangerous.”

“You want to see me.” A wicked, arrogant grin lifted the corner of his lips, and he pulled me against his thigh so I could feel him rock hard. His hand rounded my ass, tight, gripping. Then his lips were on my neck. I said something about him needing to go, but they were flimsy words, and my grip on his hoodie strengthened.

“Well I’m a fucked up girl who loves killing and you’re an animal—a Beast.” I breathed as he bit the skin at my collarbone. “We were made for each other.” It was meant to be sardonic, meant to devalue the crazy situation and our fucked up nature, but I sighed the words and instead gave it more power—gave us more power. He scored my hair, tilting my head back so our eyes locked. My heart pounded a heavy beat so loud I was sure whoever was on the other side of the door would hear it. My tongue darted out involuntarily to wet my lips and his eyes traveled down, narrowing as they followed its slide across my mouth. The air caught fire and I didn’t care who was outside the room. I wanted to burn with him.

Then with a growl deep in his throat, Anteros tore from me and pressed something into my palm—a phone.

“I’ll text you the address,” he said, voice like gravel.

“It can’t be far. I need to be close. Lucia…Lucia wants me close.” Another lie. It was hard to leave Lucia—she had eyes on me more than Anteros did—but I found ways. Truthfully I was starting to feel sick, and even just walking to Anteros’s club was weighing on me. I didn’t want him to know that, though. I didn’t want him to think I was broken.

“It will be close,” he said with a cruelly sensual grin. Just before he left he reached out his pointer finger and gently lifted the diamond rose from my neck. One, two beats passed with him holding it in suspense. Our eyes locked, a smile ghosted his face, then he dropped the pendant and climbed the rest of the way through the window, quickly jumping down. I released the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, fingers going to the necklace like I could feel him still.

It was a marvel to watch him go, muscles rippling, feet landing on the cement with agility. He adjusted his hoodie, vanishing among New Yorkers. I looked at the phone in my hand, hope blooming in my chest.

I could still taste him on my lips, was still tingling with the touch of him, when the door opened behind me. Spinning around, I shoved the cell into my pocket. I expected Gabby. Of course I was wrong.

* * *

I wondered if she could see the sweat on my brow, if she felt the pounding in my blood. The window was still open, breathing icy air into the room, but it wasn’t enough to cool down the heat in my veins. She looked beyond me to the open window, folding her arms.

“Waiting for Gabriella?” Lucia asked.

I swallowed. “Yep.”

Another moment passed. “That’s nice. I never had girlfriends to gab with, no one to talk about boys with or to share my…secrets.” She closed her lips in a thin smile and tilted her head, watching how I responded to the word secrets.

I shrugged, not really sure what to say. Gabby and I weren’t really mulling over the latest issue of Teen Vogue, but that wasn’t what Lucia was implying. I didn’t feel like playing her game, not when I could still taste Anteros on my lips. When I was certain she could smell him in the air because his spicy scent was sharp as a needle in my heart.

“It’s so hard to find good help,” she said after a few more seconds of agonizing silence. My brow furrowed, not understanding her meaning. “I sent someone to fetch you hours ago,” she explained. “In the end, I had to come find you.” Lucia was always so regal, her hair perfect, shining silver ringlets and the wrinkles in her skin somehow accentuating her beauty. She radiated regality in the same way Anteros radiated savagery. Whenever I caught glimpses of her, I was stunned, awed into silence. It was uncomfortable, and another reason I avoided her.

“I got the message.” I rubbed my hands on my jeans, pausing when I felt the bulge of the phone. I slowly stood up straight, desperate for any way to end this conversation and get away, to hide the evidence. “I was on my way to see you.” It was a lie, and I was sure she knew it. Silently, Lucia came closer to me, long and bony yet beautiful fingers reaching to lift the necklace from my skin.

“I would imagine you would be more curious to know of your family.” She twirled the diamond between her pointer finger and thumb. My stomach raged, thinking to how Anteros had only just recently held it. It didn’t belong in her hand. “Of your mother,” she finished, dropping the diamond. I pulled back, hand covering the pendant instinctively.

“I am,” I said, voice high with excitement. Was she serious? I’d been asking about my family, about who I was, since we’d arrived at this fucking place—but she knew that. She turned as if to leave without another word.

“Tell me what you know about my mother,” I demanded to her back. Fuck. I’d been doing my best to keep my emotions under control, but seriously? Was she really going to just leave like that? She paused and lifted her head.

“Stop avoiding me and you’ll find out,” she said over her shoulder, sounding amused. I felt ill, unable to speak as she disappeared out the door. I wanted desperately to know about my mother and the origins of my family. My month with Anteros had taught me when I was being used, though, when someone was fucking with my mind.

I didn’t know why she was fucking with me. I didn’t know why my grandmother would want to screw with me. When I was younger I used to imagine having grandparents like the other children. Their grandparents would bake them cookies or let them play games at their houses. There was a game we were playing, but I wasn’t sure what it was and I couldn’t possibly know the rules.

I waited a few minutes after she left before I followed. The hallway was empty and I quickly scurried the rest of the way down to my room—the best room for the best granddaughter, Lucia had explained with her ghostly smile. When she’d said that, I thought my dreams were coming true and I had finally gotten a grandmother like all the other kids. Now I knew the true reason: Lucia had given me the room because it was the corner room, which made it almost impossible to leave at night.

There was an unwritten rule about leaving. I never got in trouble if I left during the day, I was simply followed. When I went to the thrift store, a soldier followed me. Watching me. Studying me. Reporting to Lucia what he saw. It made me feel more caged than when I was here, sitting in my room, alone.

There were cameras all over the club and basement but, as far as I could tell, the bedrooms weren’t equipped with any. It made sneaking around easier and made my prison bearable. Some days I could steal freedom, and the night always belonged to me.

It was how I’d found Anteros.

I pushed the door open and stopped short in the doorway when I saw who was sitting on my bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snapped. Nikolai stood up off the four-poster bed draped in shining silk.

“We need to make a few things clear.”

“Like boundaries?” I asked. “And personal space? I agree.”

“I know you’ve been seeing Beast.”

“That’s a lie,” I said with a wave of my hand. “And not a very good one.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have time to play games with you, especially since you’re so terrible at them.”

I folded my arms and matched his glare. “What do you want?” I barely got the words out through my gritted teeth.

“Simple: you can’t tell him about me.”

I laughed. “One, I don’t see him so that would never happen. Two, if I did see him, fuck you.”

“You love him,” Nikolai continued like I’d never said a word.

“Why would I love the man who imprisoned me?”

Nikolai’s movements reflected in the shiny hardwood as he got closer. “I don’t really care about the whys of your Stockholm syndrome bullshit. All that matters is that you do, and he somethings you.” Nikolai narrowed his eyes and stressed the word ‘something’ like he still couldn’t believe Anteros could feel any type of emotion.

“So you probably wouldn’t want him finding out that you’ve been fucking me,” he continued, “and that you were the mastermind behind all of this.”

“Your lies are getting—” Nikolai held up a hand, cutting me off before I could protest. He pulled out a smart phone and I had my arms folded, ready to roll my eyes at whatever was on the screen, when I gasped. The first video showed a drugged Anteros as we dragged him to his room on Christmas Eve. The next showed me opening the Bible and checking the needle on New Year’s Eve, making it seem like I’d added it alone.

“You fucking saved those? You said you erased the tapes.” He shrugged and pressed a finger to the screen. The room filled with sound. I listened, expecting to hear what we’d said during those times, but it was all wrong.

“We need to get him to bed,” Nikolai’s voice said.

“I’m going to kill him, actually murder his body,” mine replied.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was my and Nikolai’s words, but none of it was how it should have been. I remembered saying that Beast was going to kill me and that he was going to murder my body, but somehow Nikolai had doctored it. It was altered, but it sounded so real—it looked so real.

I stumbled back, hand grasping the bed’s glazed wooden poster for support as the video continued. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong. It really did sound like I’d masterminded everything. It sounded like I was in love with Nikolai. It sounded like I’d planned everything with Vic and Lucia. It sounded like I’d planned to have the needle placed in the hotel room. My stomach dropped, feeling sick. Nikolai pressed another finger to the screen, making the picture and sound go black.

“It’s amazing what technology can do these days.”

“You wouldn’t,” I said, even knowing he would. I just couldn’t process what was happening. I spun away, feet padding across ancient, shined hardwood. I went past the beautiful, one-of-a-kind furniture in gold and cerulean, going straight to the window.

Nikolai was at my back. “I think you know I would.”

“But that’s not true. You twisted my words. It’s all a fucking lie.”

“Do you think Beast will believe that?” Nikolai asked. Breathing labored, I focused on my nails digging into the ivory paint on the sill. Did I think he would believe me when all evidence pointed to the contrary?

No. I didn’t. Not when the trust between us was already so tenuous. I would find a way to eventually tell him who Nikolai really was, but first I had to get Nikolai’s fucking phone or figure out a way to convince Anteros without any doubt.

“I trust you will do what I asked,” Nikolai said to my back. I didn’t respond, but I didn’t need to. He’d won this round. When I heard the snick of the door closing, I wanted to scream, but instead I scythed my nails tighter into the sill until paint curled up where my nails bit the edges.

The night sky was made a blank canvas by the blinding city lights. The air was crisp and the smell dug into my chest, tearing open the parts I desperately tried to keep shut. I still agonized over the way I’d left Anteros, wondering if what I was doing was correct. Sometimes I hated myself more than I ever hated him. It was a hate I rarely acknowledged, but nevertheless felt every day. I hated myself for leaving him, felt myself wishing I were his slave. When that happened, new hate flowed all over again—hate at myself for giving in, for letting him into my heart, and for wanting to keep him there.

Do you know what I want from you, Frankie?

I thought I had, thought I’d finally figured out the big, bad Beast, then he’d responded in a way I never saw coming.

Love.

I lifted the necklace, feeling the hard edges as I got lost in the snow-dusted city. Each night I ruminated over his response. I wondered if his love was just a trick, a mind game. After he climbed through Gabriella’s window, I was no more certain. Were we Romeo and Juliet? Or was I Ophelia, destined to go mad wondering?

I looked over the tops of brightly lit skyscrapers, beyond to where I knew he was. My mind told me a Beast couldn’t love. My heart, though…I exhaled, letting the necklace fall from my grasp. My heart was going to get me killed.