My stomach gives a weird little flutter at the words “marry you.”
That’s not what I came here for. I haven’t even considered the thought of marrying Marcus, or his two closest friends either. What we have seems so much bigger than that, so much more chaotic and meaningful and intense. Marriage seems like too small a word to fit the thing that exists between us.
“I’m not really big on begging,” I say carefully, falling into step beside Victoria as she begins to walk along one side of the long pool. She’s still barefoot, but the marble slabs that border the pool are pristine and smooth. “I’m just trying to understand what you want. Maybe there’s something we can offer that you want more.”
“Are you sure you want to be a part of this?” she asks suddenly, cutting a glance my way. “You do realize that once you’re in, you’ll never get out, right?”
“Yes. And I don’t care.”
Her vivid green eyes are impossible to read as she shakes her head. “I think you will. When you finally realize what you’ve signed up for.”
“Why do you want to marry Marcus?” I ask, shifting the topic back to the reason I’m here. I get the feeling she’s trying to put me off-balance, and even though it’s working a little, I refuse to let her see that.
Victoria stops, turning to stare down into the clear water of the pool as she crosses her arms. “I don’t want to. I need to.”
We’re standing side by side, so I can only catch her profile when I glance over at her, and her expression is still hard to read. But there’s something in her voice that sounds almost sad.
“Why?” I press.
She shrugs a delicate shoulder. “Why do you think? I think he’s going to win, and if we’re married, that means I win too.”
“So you’re planning to just sit back and let him fight it out with the other men, then swoop in and claim the prize alongside him?”
I can’t hide the disgust in my voice, and Victoria looks over at me sharply. “No. I’m not planning to ‘sit back’ on anything. I’ve been holding my own in this game, and I’ll keep fighting.”
My skin chills a little. It’s hard to imagine this willowy, long-necked girl with bare feet firing the bullet that ended up in Carson’s head, but I know she’s the one who did. She’s capable of a lot more than she looks like, and I need to remember that.
“You killed Carson.” It’s not a question.
She hesitates for just a second, then nods. “Yes.”
“Did you help him plan that whole thing out? Did you help him plan to kidnap me?”
Her hesitation lasts longer this time, as if she’s weighing her answer. Then she shakes her head. “No. He was trying to sweet talk me into an alliance, but I draw the line at using people’s loved ones against them. So when I found out what he was planning, I told him no.”
“Then how did you know where he was? Where we were? How did you find us at the warehouse district?”
“The same way Carson did.” She smiles, although her eyes stay sharp and serious. “He put a GPS tracker on you, Ayla. In your clothes somewhere, probably, or your shoes. And I followed it just like he did.”
“So your plan all along was to kill Carson? To blackmail Marcus into agreeing to marry you?”
She scoffs. “Of course not. You can’t make plans like that in this game. The ones who try to do that are the ones who die. All you can do is stay alert, be smart, and take advantage of every opportunity that crosses your path.”
“And that’s what Marcus was? An opportunity.”
My voice twists around the last word. Victoria looks over at me, her brows pulling together.
“You really do love him, don’t you?” she murmurs, although the question sounds almost rhetorical.
I don’t bother answering it, because I don’t know how to. “Love” feels almost as inadequate as “marriage.”
I’m not sure there even is a word for the obsessive, soul-deep craving I have for Marcus.
Victoria’s eyes narrow as I remain silent, but her perceptive gaze scans my face. Then she shakes her head. “You’ll never get it to make sense, so don’t even bother trying.” She gazes down into the pool again. “It’s not fair. I know that. One day, Marcus and I will either be married or six feet under, and you’ll be left holding on to a faded memory of love, convincing yourself with every passing day that maybe you just imagined the whole thing.”
“I didn’t imagine it,” I snap, bristling. Her words are like a blade slipped between my ribs, making my heart sting.
“No.” She lets out a humorless laugh, staring so deep into the pool I’m sure she’s seeing something else entirely. “Neither did I.”
My brows pull together as I shoot her a look. Is she talking about Marcus? Is she, or was she, in love with him? It’s clear as fucking day that her interest in him now is purely political, but was it ever more than that?
I have the sudden urge to reach out and shove her into the pool.
To jump in after her and hold her head underwater until she drowns.
The violence of my reaction shocks me a little, and I clench my jaw, trying to focus. But before I can press her to explain her words, she looks over at me sharply.
“Tell Marcus to put some pressure on Michael and Gabriel. Their families have both been weakening over the past couple years. From what I hear, there’s a new player on the scene, someone called the Viper, and he’s been making their lives hell.” She rolls her eyes. “Of course, it doesn’t help that they’re both too busy playing against each other, forging and breaking their alliance over and over, to keep their guards up against an outside threat.”
I frown. “Why are you telling me this?”
Her green
