I turned to look at her. Resilient as f*ck. Another flower growing between the sidewalk cracks. “Then MIT it is.”
We never talked about Hope again. Before I shipped Destiny off to MIT, I tried to bring up her sister, but Destiny shut down completely, like a broken toy.
I never told Destiny that I buried Hope in a mausoleum outside of town, and made sure she always had fresh flowers on the anniversary of her death and on her birthday.
I also never told Destiny that I hadn’t forgiven myself for what happened that day. For not protecting them better. For not getting there sooner. For not knowing whether I killed Hope.
Instead, I focused on the future, making sure Destiny’s was settled. That was all I could do.
Keira
Present day
I fight through the darkness and open my eyes. Pain radiates throughout my entire body, and it’s a hell of a lot worse than after the car accident.
The only light in the crypt comes from the full moon sneaking through the cracks in the mortar in one upper corner. It’s not enough to see the horror of what’s around me, but I can smell it.
“Mags?” My voice breaks in a whisper as I steel myself against the pain and reach out to touch her. “Mags, you can’t be dead. Please.”
Our last words were spoken in anger, and I can’t live with that.
If I get to live.
Fearful of what my fingertips will encounter, I skim them along the silk of her kimono until I hit the skin of her neck.
She’s still warm.
“Mags!” I scream her name this time, but get no response.
I don’t know how long it takes a body to cool after the life has drained from it, but I refuse to believe that’s what’s happening here.
“You can’t be dead, Magnolia Marie. I refuse to believe it.”
My left shoulder pulses with each heartbeat, telling me blood is pumping out of my body. I have to stop the bleeding, but first, I need to know if Magnolia is dead.
I find her carotid artery and close my eyes, blocking out my own pain as I pray to God to find a sign of life.
At first, I feel nothing. But then . . . There it is. Thready. That’s the word they use on those ER shows, right? She’s not dead.
“Mags! Wake the f*ck up!” I reach out to touch her face, wishing she would answer me, but she doesn’t.
I’m in a silent tomb, surrounded by the bodies of who I have to believe are the missing mistresses. Maybe even Richelle LaFleur.
But how?
Lachlan Mount, the man I married, wouldn’t kill an innocent woman. But that blond bitch? She sounded as f*cking crazy as hell.
Who the hell is she, though?
“Stay with me, Mags,” I whisper as I rip off the right sleeve of my blouse to press against my left shoulder. Blood soaks the fabric in seconds.
I’m bleeding out. I don’t know how I know it, but I am.
But if I die, Magnolia dies with me. I can’t stomach the thought.
I attempt to push myself up and stand, desperate to find us both a way out, but agony rips through my body. Black spots dance across my vision as I collapse into the horrific mess with a crunch and a squish.
No, I have to try again. My reserves of strength drain to empty as pain swamps my senses.
As I start to black out again, one last clear thought streaks through my brain.
Lachlan will burn this city to the ground if anything happens to me.
Mount
I know the location of the GPS coordinates way too well. And it makes no sense. Or maybe it makes too much sense . . .
It’s not possible.
I shove away from my desk, grabbing a pistol from the desk drawer.
“What are you doing?” my second-in-command asks.
“Going to find my wife.”
“You married that whore?”
At her words, everything becomes crystal f*cking clear.
My gaze snaps to J’s face. “Watch your f*cking mouth when you talk about her, and tell me what the f*ck you did.” I level the pistol on her.
J came to me after four years and a double major at MIT, spending her weekends and school breaks undergoing private combat training usually reserved for professional security. Battle-hardened was what she called herself as she demanded a place in my organization, saying New Orleans was her home, and I was her only family.
I told her if I let her stay, no one could ever know who she was. And like everyone else in my organization, she became known by only a letter. The first letter of her last name—Jones.
“How could you marry her!” The shriek bounces off the walls.
“What did you do, J?”
“Call me Destiny, dammit!”
She rocks back and forth on her heels, looking like the broken girl I found hiding under the stoop, but I can’t think about that. Right now, my gut is telling me she’s behind all of this.
“If you don’t tell me what you did with Keira in the next two seconds, I’ll kill you where you stand. History be damned.”
Betrayal and shock flash across her face before her gaze turns hard. “I did what I had to do.”
“If you f*cking laid a finger on her, I swear to God—”
“What? You gonna kill me, Mikey? After all this time? She was in the way. They were all in the way, but I took care of them as soon as you were done so we didn’t have any loose ends. Then that madam bitch overstepped her place, giving you one that wasn’t a whore. At least, at first. She should’ve known better than to try to trick you. No one does that and lives.”
“What did you do to her?” I growl out the words.
“You weren’t supposed to love her. You were only supposed to love me. So I buried her like the rest of them!”
My roar fills the office a second before I pull the trigger. The bullet slams into her hand, and she screams as blood spurts out.
D rushes into the room, his eyes darting from J to me and back.
“Boss?”
“Lock J up. Don’t you f*cking lose sight of her or I’ll kill you both. Z and I are going to find my wife, and you all better pray she’s still alive.”
Keira
I lose track of time, waking up and fighting to stay conscious. I scream until my voice gives out. I can’t find any wounds on Magnolia’s body, but I wrap mine around hers. Neither of us is going to make it much longer.
The roar of an engine brings my focus back to the outside world. Outside this tomb where I’ve been sure I’m going to die.
I scream, pulling Magnolia’s head against my chest, and my fingers touch something sharp.
Her hair chopsticks.
I yank one free, gripping it in my right hand. If that bitch is back, she’s gonna be the one to die.
My thoughts are jumbled, and my body screams in pain as I try to stand.
Bones crunch beneath me, and I gag at the scent of decomposition. It’s something I’ll never forget for however long I have left to live.
“Help!” I scream, my voice breaking. I lose my balance and fall forward, landing face-first on a corpse, and the silver stake flies out of my hand.
The hinges of the door release a metallic screech as the solid wood panel flies open.
My plan is to rise out of the bodies and stab that bitch through the heart, but I’ve lost my only weapon.
“Hold on. Hold the f*ck on. Don’t you f*cking die on me, Keira!”
It’s Lachlan’s voice.
Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy #3)
Meghan March's books
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