Black Collar Queen (Black Collar Syndicate Book 2) (29 page)

Emma's eyes grow wide
again, but she says nothing. Thirty percent is outrageous. Yet, isn't that to
be expected? It's a deal that will stay the Olivers’ hand at seeking recompense
for Nic’s death, and a way to ensure that the Morgans’ dirty laundry doesn't
get aired to the authorities.

It will keep Emma alive.

Seth looks to Aleja, who
nods, and then to Rama. The Thai is less agreeable, his brow still furrowed and
his posture defensive. But he nods as well, with a sigh. Seth says, “Then we
are in agreement.”

Remi drains his cognac,
leans forward, and says, “There is one condition you need to understand. This”—he
indicates the folder, “—is the extent of our deal. If your operation puts you
in the face of new enemies, I will not come to your aid. I will not move on
your behalf.”

Seth’s stomach is in
knots, so Remi's last warning doesn't cause quite the distress it might have in
a less tense situation. Still, he can't show the nerves that threaten to shake
him, so he makes a solemn nod. He says, “That is more than fair.”

“Good,” says Remi, and
he stands curtly. The others follow suit, but Remi only has eyes for Seth. The
older man reaches across the table, and Seth accepts his hand. This time, the
handshake nearly crushes Seth's bones together, but he doesn't show that it
hurts. He just returns

the pressure. Remi says,
“Then by the code, this deal is set. Good evening.”

He meets his security by
the door, and they exit as smoothly as they came.
 

Seth glances at the
others in the wake of Remi’s departure. Rama is still tense and angry, Emma a
furious, anxious counterpoint to Aleja’s calm. The Cuban assassin gives him a
slow smirk. “What now?”

“Now? We plan a trip to
Bangkok.”
 

 

 
          
 

                    

Chapter 40.
Morgan Estates. New York City. December 18

 

She
Clicks Off The Little Lamp
on her desk, and stands, suppressing a groan as her back
stretches and pops. It’s late—later than she planned to stay in office today. A
downside of being the boss when Seth decided to be scarce.
 

Dom shifts, taking her
black briefcase. Emma pulls on her coat as he calls the elevator. Her entire
posture is stooped and tired—a headache is building behind her eyes and her
throat is sore. She’s getting sick.
 
“Where to, Emma?” Dom asks as they step into the elevator.
 

She should go to Aleja’s
hotel—the Cuban woman invited her for dinner and it would be good to spend some
time with her that isn’t tense with business or Seth.
 
“I want to go home,” she says softly, her
stomach twisting. She wants the comfort of her own space, and her bed, and no
one needing her for a few blissful hours.
 

Emma digs out her phone
and texts Aleja quickly. The elevator bumps to a stop, and Dom escorts her out.
Her car is idling at the curb, and some of the tension eases out of her. She
shoves her phone in her pocket and hurries to the door, head down.

“Emma,” Dom says, his
voice tight.

She looks up at him as
the door is pulled open. The lobby is empty, and dark—none of their security is
in sight.
 

“Emma, go upstairs.
Now.
” Dom says and she blinks, because
he’s never spoken to her that way, his voice sharp with command.
 

“Oh, I think she should
stay.”
 

The voice is low and
feminine, mocking. Emma jerks around to look at the speaker, blood draining
from her face. “What the hell are you doing here?” Emma asks, and she's
startled that her voice doesn't shake. She feels defenseless suddenly, her hand
tight around her phone.
 
She has never
felt defenseless in her own building.
 

“I thought it was time
to see my daughter. I’ve worried about you,” Beth says, her voice oozing false
warmth.
 

“You haven't cared about
me since before Isaac died,” Emma says tonelessly.
 

Pain flickers in Beth’s
eyes but she doesn't contradict her. She shrugs.
 

“Where is my security?”
Emma demands, glancing around at the empty lobby again. A smirk turns her
mother’s lips, and rage fills Emma’s veins. She takes a half-step forward
before Dom’s hand on her jerks her back a step. “What the fuck did you do?” she
snaps.

“They’re low-ranking
guns. They knew what this life was when they took the ouroboros.” Beth
sniffs.
 

Dom shifts, stepping in
front of Emma. “You need to go, ma’am. You aren’t welcome here.”
 
Beth’s gaze crawls over Dom, and Emma’s
stomach drops. She’s seen that look—cold and unfeeling as she assesses someone,
weighing them for worth. Then her gaze darts past him to Emma. “Darling. We
don’t choose our security because we want to fuck them.”
 

Emma sucks in a sharp
breath. “Get the fuck out, Mother. You lost any right to be here when you sided
with that bastard.”

She turns away, pulling
her phone quickly and dialing.
 

A gun goes off before
she can lift the phone, and she screams as the sound fills the tower lobby,
echoing off the marble and back again, the roar swallowing the low grunt from
Dom as the bullet tears into his gut. Another shot to his side, and the
bodyguard wavers before his legs go out and he drops. Emma stares at her mother,
shocked and furious. “What the hell are you
doing
?
You fucked up this time, Beth.”
 

Bethania gives her
daughter a quick sharp smile. “I don’t think I did. Seth was never very
bright—but object lessons work very well.”

Emma’s stomach heaves
furiously. She drops to the ground and touches his neck. A pulse flutters under
her fingers and she murmurs softly, “Stay alive, friend.”
 

A grip as familiar as
breathing closes around her arm. “Let’s go.”
 

Emma jerks sharply. “I’m
not fucking going anywhere with you, you crazy bitch.”
 

Beth slaps her. The
taste of blood fills her mouth as her vision goes gray, pain obscuring
everything, even the shallow breathing of the man at her feet. “You’ll come
quietly, or I’ll kill you now and deal with that little shit cousin of yours
later.”

The pure venom in Beth’s
voice knocks her back a step. For the first time, she isn’t just angry—she’s
scared.
 

Beth has never liked
Emma. And that dislike increased when Emma took her place in the family at
Seth’s side. A disinterested dislike deepened into hatred—and Beth is violent
and unstable.
 

She has been since Isaac
died. “What are you doing, Mother?” Emma asks quietly.
 

“Seth took the family
and killed my brother, and he stole you. I’m taking the only thing he cares
about. Now get on your fucking feet and move.”
 

Shaking, furious and
terrified, she does as she’s told. Beth lifts the gun again, and Emma screams,
the world spinning as she fires again. Dom jerks and Emma lurches toward
him.
 

“Don’t,” Beth snaps.
“Let’s go. Get your phone out.”
 

Emma swallows hard, and
does what she’s told. Beth pitches her voice loud. “He’s alive—for now. But
you’ll want to hurry if you want it to stay that way.” Then she takes the phone
and tosses it on Dom’s too still body. Motions with her gun and sneers at Emma.
“Get in the fucking car.”

 

 
          
 

 

Chapter 41.
Bamboo. New York City.
December 18

 

The
Phone Is Dead
, black against his ear, but he can’t bring himself to lower it
yet. Lowering it will mean it’s real. The gunshot was real.
 

A knock jars him out of
his daze and he blinks as Kai enters.
 

He almost ignored her
phone call. Suddenly, his stomach turns and he gags, swallowing hard to keep
from throwing up.
 

“Rama?” Kai sounds
worried, and it jerks him back to himself.
 

Without responding, he
lifts the phone again, dialing as he stands. He pulls open a chest at the end
of the bar as the phone rings, and pulls out the pair of guns he so rarely
carries anymore.
 
“What is it, Rama?”
Seth says, distracted.
 

“Send someone to your
offices. Dom needs medical attention.”

“Emma?”

He stops, breathing for
a moment. Saying it will make it real and her screams echo in his head. She
sounded furious, but at the end, she was scared.
 

“What the hell happened,
Rama?” Seth snarls, and he lets out a breath, feeling all the anger. Embracing
it.

“Her mother has her.”

 

The car is like any
Morgan car, dark-tinted windows and luxury. They slip through the streets
silently, Emma fighting to control the shudders that take her. The city is
alive, beyond the cool metal confines of the car—alive with light and snow.
It’s everything she has ever wanted. This city, and her family, and her
cousins.

She knew her family
carried a heavy price. It was a lesson Seth taught her, while sheltering her
from the realities of it. She has been the favorite her entire life. Not
coddled by her mother but by every other family member she has——her uncles and
father and cousins. Even her brother had doted on her until his death. Caleb
was the only one who exposed her to the darker aspects of their world.

Betrayal, so much a part
of their world, has never touched her before now. She stares out the window and
can't see anything but Dom, lying too still and bleeding on the marble.
 

She wonders if Rama
answered her phone call, if anyone knows what is happening.
 

There is a moment, a
breath-stealing moment of fear as she imagines Seth getting the phone call from
Rama, or worse, arriving at headquarters in the morning to find Dom dead and
her missing.
 

She shudders and pulls
herself from her thoughts, smoothing down her dress pants and looking at
Beth.
 

“What are you doing?”
she asks, softly. “We didn’t chase you. Why the hell did you come back?”
 

“I never left,” Bethania
says. Surprise pulls at Emma’s expression, and she struggles not to snap out a
question. “I have friends in the city, Emma. I’ve been here far longer than
you.”
 

“No one would harbor—”
She goes quiet, staring at her mother, understanding filling her. Beth’s
expression doesn’t change as she watches Emma puzzle through it, and her smile
turns up as Emma’s eyes widen. “The Olivers. You fucking went to the Olivers?
Why
?”
 

Beth shrugs. “Old
friendships, Emma. Why I do anything is no longer your concern. The Morgans no
longer concern me.”
 

“Until you're dead, the
Morgans will always concern you,” she says softly.

Beth reaches out, and
casually, as if she were picking lint from her shoulder, smacks Emma across the
face with the butt of her pistol. Pain streaks across her vision, twisting in
her gut as she struggles to keep her grip on consciousness. The salad she ate
for lunch threatens to make a reappearance, and through the agonizing pain,
she’s aware of how pissed Beth would be if she threw up now.
 

Blood, brain, bone. That
doesn’t bother Beth. But throwing up in the towncar?
 

A giggle works its way
up her throat, coming out with a cough—a garbled noise that screams pain. “You
fucking bitch,” Emma murmurs. Blood fills her mouth and she spits it out.

Beth looks disgusted,
even in her blurred vision. “We wouldn’t have chased you. But now? Even if I
wanted to let you live—Seth won’t. You attacked the wrong fucking person.”
 

“I attacked his little
whore. Of course he’ll come running. That’s the only reason you have any value,
Emma. Because you are his weakness.”
 

Emma stares at her, pain
making shit fuzzy. She remembers standing nearly naked in her bedroom in the
Hamptons the night the world fell apart, telling Rama she wouldn’t be the weak
link in the family. Rama quietly telling her that he saw a queen.
 

Tears sting her eyes,
and she looks away from her mother, back into the snow-swirled city.
 

“Where are you taking me?” she asks, her voice so low Beth almost
misses the question.
 

For a long moment, there
is silence, a strange lull of almost peaceful waiting between mother and
daughter. The car bumps into traffic, and Emma turns her gaze to Beth, wincing
as pain stabs behind her eyes.
 

She wonders, distantly,
if she has a concussion.
 

“To see Isaac,” Beth
says finally.
 
                                             
 

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