Callum smiles back at me, softly, almost sweetly.

“Because,” he begins as I glance back at the nightmare that is Pamela Pence’s house. “We always intended for him to be dug up.”

I look back at Cal in bewilderment, but he takes my hand and pulls me along beside him.

Well, fuck me. I did not see that one coming.

Victor Channing

“Good morning, son,” Ophelia says, dressed for tennis and smiling at me like she thinks she’s winning our little coup d'état. She has no idea how close I am to killing her. If she did, she wouldn’t look so triumphant in the face the way she does right now, like she’s finally done it, shown me how small and insignificant I am.

See, that’s the thing about my mother that makes a relationship between us difficult. We have different fundamental principles. She thinks money and clout make up a person’s worth; I think it’s about honesty and respect.

And love.

Oh, it’s all about that, isn’t it?

“Good morning,” I reply, knowing she’d only call me to the club for good news. She wants to parade me around here like a son she actually cares about, instead of some old sweater she shucked as soon as it went out of style. I start lighting a cigarette, and Ophelia panics, dragging me outside by the arm with a smile plastered on her face.

“You could try to be a little less … you in public,” she suggests, but then, she’s the one who made me live alone with my alcoholic father my whole life. Where was I supposed to learn fancy blueblood manners? I blow smoke in her face and smile when she frowns.

I’m standing on a razor-thin fucking edge here, my eyes narrowed, my thoughts spread thin. Bernadette isn’t happy about any of this, and I don’t blame her. If I were a real man, I’d have spit in Ophelia’s face at the suggestion of an annulment.

Instead, I’m playing a general in a war. If I do that, if I can step aside from Bernie for just long enough, I’ll have a kingdom to give her.

She shouldn’t have even been in the position she was with Kali. If she’d listened to me, she wouldn’t have been, I think, but I have to be honest with myself that her disobedience turns me the fuck on. Even now, I can feel blood rushing to my cock.

I don’t blame Bernadette for not finishing Kali. She hired us for the names on that list for a reason.

“Sorry. It’s in the blood,” I reply belatedly, giving a loose shrug. My mind strays to Bernadette and sticks there. Seeing her with James Barrasso made me so murderous it was impossible to breathe. I’m glad she fucked up her mission to flirt some info out of him. Trinity, on the other hand, is a strange nut to crack. “What do you want? Checking up on me after my date last night?”

Ophelia tsks under her breath, plucking the cigarette from my mouth and stubbing it out on the side of a pot. She hides the evidence in the dirt and then stands up, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s a beautiful woman with dark hair, eyes like pitch, and a mean mouth. I look just like her, even as I struggle every day to be different from her.

“Whatever you’ve done to Miss Jade, she’s smitten,” Ophelia tells me, smiling in the same way I do when I think I’ve trapped a fly in a web. Why does she think that? I wonder, lighting up a new cigarette as she sighs in exasperation. If I killed her, right here and now, would I be able to drag the body across the golf course before anybody saw me?

“Must be my limitless charm,” I reply, smiling right back at my mother as she adjusts her sweater and straightens out her skirt. “She’s easy enough to wrangle. I’m sure I could marry her and own her ass the way I do every woman’s.”

That makes Ophelia rankle, and she scowls at me.

“Not that trashy girl,” she says, and I smile wider. We both know that’s what I mean, every girl but Bernadette. She can be controlled by no man. I let out a derisive snort. No wonder Ophelia hates her so much: they’re similar in so many ways. Not sure what that means for me and my mommy issues though, huh? “That no-nothing whore you’re so obsessed with. Just like your father, chasing after the sweetest tasting pussy.”

“If she’s such a waste of life then why are you so fixated on her?” I ask, and the way my mother looks back at me actually scares me in a way that’s so unfamiliar that I lower the cigarette by my side, careful not to drop it.

“Because I’ve never seen you this way before,” Ophelia says, smiling as she reaches up a pale hand to touch my cheek. “First love is so powerful that I once let your father of all people manipulate me,” she whispers, getting far too close to me for comfort. I don’t let my mother touch me, on principle. We haven’t hugged since I was seven years old. That was her choice, back then. Now it’s mine.

Carefully, slowly, I use the hand that isn’t holding the cigarette to grab her wrist and push it away. I love that I’m so much taller than her, so I can stare down at her like something unfortunate that deserves to be stepped on.

“Ruby wanted me to have that money,” I say carefully, giving Ophelia a hard look. “It was your mother’s dying wish. Why are you fighting this so hard?”

“Invoking my dead mother’s name won’t get me off the subject,” she says, stepping away from me and wiping her palm on her sweater-vest like she’s trying to shake off something extremely unpleasant, like a son from a rotten first marriage perhaps.

Look what you’ve done to me, I think as I look at her with sad eyes. Look what you’ve made me become. I am your creation as well as your son. If this woman had loved me, if she’d taken care of me, who would I be right now?

“Tell me what deal you’ve made with Trinity Jade, and I’ll tell you all about Bernadette,” I offer, and Ophelia looks askance at me. There’s the briefest flicker of fear in her gaze. Maybe she can hear in my voice how serious I am right now? “Just to be clear, this is a onetime offer. Because if I ever—and I mean ever—get you alone in a room, I’m going to kill you.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Victor,” Ophelia says, waving her hand dismissively in my direction. We both know how serious I am. “Does it matter to you why I’m doing this? You benefit from it as well.” She looks out across the green, shading her eyes with her hand. It’s too rainy today, so there’s nobody out there, just endless green lawns and trees.

“I haven’t forgotten what you did to Aaron,” I remind her, wishing I hadn’t seen the look I did on her face. I told Bernadette that we had to make sure that Ophelia never knew how much she meant to me. Never. Because if she truly has grasped it, Bernadette is in trouble—especially if I fuck this Trinity thing up too soon.

But I’m not a goddamn whore and at some point, that girl is going to want me to put out.

I have to deal with this before then.

“The Grand Murder Party,” I start, thinking how stupid their gang’s name is. I had to do it, Google the worst gangs in the United States just to see. The names don’t ever get any better. I smile around my cigarette as I take a drag. Havoc isn’t half bad, comparatively. “What are you doing with them?”

“Victor, just marry the girl you were given, have a little fun with her. She even told you that you could keep your sidepiece.” She turns to look at me with an exasperated expression on her aristocratic face. “I appreciate you putting up a pretend fight, but we both know this is the only way forward that doesn’t end in bloodshed.”