Empire of Sin (Empire #2) by Rina Kent

It was a challenge, mostly empty and out of spite because he was being impossibly arrogant. But maybe he took it as real, because he hasn’t texted me to meet in the supply room since then.

He doesn’t text me, period.

Or talk to me, really.

At first, I ignored him as much as he did me. At the time, I believed it was all part of a game, a push and pull of sorts.

But there’s only been a push.

If I don’t go up to his floor for a spying session, I go a whole day without seeing him.

At some point, I became angry, I became so angry that I considered doing exactly what I threatened. To go to a bar and fuck someone. A stranger. A random person.

Maybe that would ease all the tension gathered in my chest.

But then again, I wouldn’t do something like that out of spite. It’s just wrong.

Like everything lately.

Even my “Oldies” playlist doesn’t sound the same anymore. The songs are too sad, too colorless.

And they shouldn’t be. They’re the most colorful thing in my life. The things that give me the power to push through the day, to create more systems, and just survive.

That’s what has always been my goal, right? To survive.

“Jane, you choose.” Gwen’s voice brings me back to the present and that’s when I notice that they’re both looking at me after their glaring session.

“Yeah, you choose, Jane. Isn’t Knox better?”

“Nope, it’s totally Nate. Don’t you dare choose anyone but Nate.”

I take a sip of my water to soothe the dryness in my throat and say the exact opposite of what I’m thinking, “I’ll go with Nathaniel. He’s more experienced and level-headed.”

Gwen slaps both her palms on the table. “Thank you!”

“You have terrible taste in lawyers, Jane.” Chris side-eyes me. “Both of you will eat your words when he wins Bell versus Bell.”

Gwen flips her hair back. “That’s if he wins. I heard Mathew Bell is backed by the mafia.”

I choke on my water and it snorts through my nose and splatters all over my lap.

“Jesus, Jane. Are you okay?” Chris offers me a napkin, but I’m unable to focus on it, because all I can hear are Gwen’s words.

“T-the…the what?” I stare at her with what must look like an expression from a scene in a horror movie.

“The mafia.”

“Which mafia, Gwen?” My voice is all choked up like my insides.

“Russian, I think? I don’t know for sure. I overheard Nate talking about it with Aspen the other day, not that I’m spying on them or anything. I swear I was just passing by, and fine, maybe I stayed on purpose to hear what they talk about when they’re together, but it’s not like I had any ill intention or anything. I swear on my sacred vanilla.”

Gwen’s hyper speech dims to the background and something much more nefarious pops to the surface. I think I’m going to throw up.

Or maybe choke.

Or faint.

And I can’t do that in front of Gwen and Chris or they’ll find out I’m broken. So I stand up as slowly as possible, because if I do it faster, I’m definitely going to end up on the floor.

“I’ll be back,” I whisper and turn around, heading to the bathroom.

That lady is watching me again. She has her eyes on me and it’s more intense now, more focused.

She knows me.

She knows exactly who I am, despite the glasses and the disguise and everything, and she’ll tell them. She’ll say she saw me here, that she found me, and they’ll come for me—

Stop.

You need to stop.

I suck in deep inhales of oxygen and head to the bathroom. Removing the glasses, I place them in my pocket and splash a copious amount of water on my face.

“You’re going to be fine,” I whisper at my disheveled reflection in the mirror. “They can’t find you.”

It takes me a few seconds to be able to control my breathing before I go out, slipping my glasses back on.

I slam into someone and wince.

“Watch where you’re going.”

I freeze.

Was that an accent I just heard with that voice? The same voice I’m familiar with?

Slowly, too slowly, I peek at the person I slammed into. He’s tall, broad, and wears glasses. They’re not as thick as mine and they make him look smart, camouflaging his true dangerous nature.

Kirill.

A pirate.

One of them, anyway. And he’s so powerful and cunning that no one dares to cross his path.

He’s judging me now with his light eyes that are covered by the glasses, and for a moment, I think it’s over.

For a moment, I think he’ll reach out, pluck off my fake glasses, poke out my contact lenses, and drag me back by my hair.

A man steps in front of him. He’s scrawnier, shorter, and has feminine looks, but he never fooled me. Behind that appearance hides one of the most lethal human weapons. Aleksander. Another pirate whose purpose is to guard Kirill.

He’s the one who told me to watch where I’m going, and he’s also the one who’s glaring down at me.

I’m under both their scrutiny now and I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.

I wish I’d stayed in the bathroom.

I wish I’d never come here.

Hell, at this moment, I wish I was never born.