Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I have to open it. I should’ve done it yesterday, but I couldn’t. Not when I barricaded myself into my loft apartment and sat up half the night with my gun pointed at the door.
But the boogeyman hadn’t shown up, hadn’t come banging on the door demanding I face him. Maybe Lucius doesn’t know where I am.
I laugh in the quiet room. Not Lucius. He knows exactly where I am. He’s probably already got a tail on me, and though I paid a lot of money to hide my past, he’ll find out the truth. Maybe he already has. When he does, he’ll know why I’m here to destroy him, and I hope he knows just how much he fucking deserves it. If he doesn’t, well …
“Then it’s war.” I sigh, the liquid courage from last night threatening me with a headache of epic proportions. War with the Vinemonts. With him. It’s what I planned for—a surgical strike on their business followed by a full-on takeover. Then, instead of increasing profits and making shareholders happy, I’d run it into the ground. Break it apart like a faulty toy and set the pieces on fire. Warm my hands as they burn.
But now it won’t be so easy. Not when Lucius knows exactly what sort of threat I am. One willing to kill him with a single bullet and never look back.
Shit, Evie. Come the fuck on. I know what I’m doing. Stalling.
The envelope waits while I keep thinking about Lucius. The same way I’ve been thinking about him for years. Only this time … this time I know what it feels like to have his hands on me. Those hands ended my brother’s life without mercy, and I have no doubt that it’s a sin against my family for me to have felt something in those moments when Lucius had pinned me against him. I wanted to feel only revulsion, not fear, and definitely not … Not anything more. Maybe the Acquisition didn’t just twist the participants, maybe it broke something in me, too. Because I was there, because I witnessed every bit of horror—maybe that’s why I want things that don’t make sense. Maybe that’s why I want to kill Lucius. Not just to avenge my family, but because perhaps it will destroy that fucked-up part of me that wants to get closer to him.
Jesus. If I keep doing all this godforsaken thinking, I’ll need a drink sooner rather than later.
Sitting up, I pull the gun from beneath my pillow and place it on my nightstand. The sun isn’t up yet, and condensation from the muggy air has crept up my locked balcony doors overnight. I eye the envelope, but once again, I can’t bring myself to open it.
Instead, I force myself into a hot shower, and then I get ready. No board meetings for the day, so I just put on a little mascara and swipe some bronzer across my cheekbones. Dressing in a business casual navy top with white linen pants, I return to my bedroom as the sun peaks over the downtown skyline. The Crescent City is waking up, and now I have no excuse.
Pushing my shoulders back, I stalk to the envelope and snatch it off the dresser. It’s paper. Paper can’t hurt me. Despite that sentiment, my fingers shake as I break the crimson wax seal and open it.
Perfect calligraphy meets my eyes, and I try to skim the words. Just a brief, confident brush of my gaze across the ink, and then I can toss it like a piece of junk mail. But, of course, that fails, so I slow down and start from the top.
Miss Witherington,
As ‘Interim’ Sovereign, I am pleased to welcome you back to Louisiana. We need good stock to replenish our ranks and continue the tradition set forth by our ancestors. The incident from the last Acquisition must never be repeated, and I am working to ensure that another Acquisition takes place at the earliest possible opportunity.
This is a rebuilding phase, one in which I intend to gather all who remain committed to the old ways. As necessitated by the unfortunate events of the last Acquisition, I am also tasked with protecting this age-old institution from all who might seek to destroy it. In that vein, any who refuse to respect our traditions are, unfortunately, part of the problem I’ve been appointed to solve.
I’m certain you’d prefer to be part of the solution, which is why I’m extending this invitation with the greatest of anticipation. As a Witherington, one whose brother competed admirably in the last Acquisition, you will be afforded a place of honor within our society.
Your formal induction is set for Saturday the 24th, 7pm sharp, at the Corrigan Residence in the Garden District during a masked affair, as is our custom.