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I was technically named second-in-command when the coup happened, the truth is more complicated. I spent most of that year being run ragged while learning the ropes of the company my mother is CEO of. It wasn’t until later that I was also trained on some of the more brutal aspects of running our faction. I didn’t know the assault on the Paine family was going down until after it had already happened.

I never thought to be grateful for that, but I find myself exhaling slowly all the same.

Still, Jasper’s lack of faith hurts. “I can take care of myself.” I glance from him to Winry. “I’m more worried about you two. Your pairings are both…not ideal.”

“I have it under control.” They say it together and then share a rueful look.

Jasper clears his throat. “Obviously being Ezekiel’s Bride is challenging, but it’s fine.”

Winry tucks her hair behind her ears. She’s blushing again. “Cohen is an asshole, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“An asshole,” I repeat. Cohen Paine is a whole lot more than an asshole. He’s a fucking monster. I don’t use that word lightly, but it’s the truth. Every faction has people who have to be willing to do the dirty work. I try not to issue any orders that I won’t be able to do myself, especially if it involves blood on someone’s hands, but some tasks aren’t possible for a queen to do herself. Cohen serves that purpose for Abel. “Winry—”

“You need to worry about yourself,” Jasper says in a low voice. “I don’t care how capable you are, Monroe. You’re in over your head. Don’t try to break the Bridal peace.”

I snort. “Do you know my mother at all?” The topic hasn’t come up yet, but it’s only been three weeks since Lammas. It will sooner or later. My mother has never been one to sit back and let a situation unfold without her input. She’s still furious that Abel Paine pulled one over on us, which means she’ll be angling for some kind of revenge before too long. As her heir, I support her in whatever way she sees fit, whether I agree with it or not.

“The handfasting between a victor and their Bride is a tradition that goes back to the beginning of Sabine Valley. Not even Aisling should fuck with that, and you’re smart enough to know it.”

“Some traditions were made to be broken.” I don’t believe it, even as I say it.

Jasper holds my gaze. “Not this one. No matter who got their pride stung with what happened Lammas night, the fact remains that the Paine brothers are more than justified in wanting revenge for what happened the night of their exile.”

“And yet not a single one among their Brides had anything to do with giving those orders.”

Winry snorts. “You know why they did that.”

Yeah, I do. What better way to punish the responsible parties than by taking their loved ones? It’s rather genius in its cruelty, and I might admire it if my family weren’t wrapped up in the mess.

My mother still hasn’t told me what the fuck she was thinking all those years ago, throwing her support in with Deacon Walsh, of all people. Everyone knew that the Paine brothers’ father, Bauer Paine, was dangerous and unpredictable, but Deacon Walsh was hardly better. If he hadn’t died a few years after taking over the Raider faction, if his son Eli weren’t a better leader, Sabine Valley would have been in even worse shape than it originally was. My mother is an expert tactician. Why the hell did she make that call?

Now she’s got egg on her face, and she wants the responsible parties to pay. Which, of course, I agree that the Paine brothers need to pay—especially Broderick. It’s just… I gave my word to Harlow that I wouldn’t stab them in the back. Even considering such an option puts my sister and uncle in danger. It doesn’t matter that Cohen hasn’t traumatized Winry and Jasper seems to be dealing with Ezekiel well enough; neither of them can stand against Abel if he decides to punish me for stepping out line.

The reminder makes my stomach tight. I paste a smile on my face. “Don’t worry about it. I have everything under control.”

I hope like hell that I’m not lying.

Chapter 13 Shiloh

“The Amazons are going to be a problem.”

I rub my temples with my fingertips and try to smother my frustration. It’s not Maddox or Cohen’s fault that I want to wring Broderick’s neck, and they won’t thank me for being an asshole because of it. It’s also not their fault that even mentioning the Amazons as a whole is enough to raise my blood pressure.

Still, Maddox’s comment doesn’t make sense. “I would hardly say Monroe’s been on her best behavior, but the fact remains that she hasn’t killed anyone, and, while the Amazons have removed every listening device I’ve planted in her office, she’s going about her workdays like normal.” She might be driving me to distraction, but that’s a personal thing.

Cohen leans forward and crosses his arms over the back of the chair he’s straddling. “Aisling Rhodius is a fucking shark, and she’s furious that we stole her precious little heir. They’re going to be a problem.”

Maddox nods. “Aisling’s been calling Winry regularly, and while they don’t appear to be talking about anything important, Winry is becoming more and more stressed out by those conversations.” His gaze goes flinty, but I can’t tell if it’s because of Winry’s distress or Aisling’s machinations. Maybe it’s both.

“You think it’s code.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s as refined as that, but there are obviously layers that we’re missing. It could be the same with Aisling and Monroe.”

I think back over all the times Aisling has come into Monroe’s office and gone over things or attended meeting after meeting. Could something have slipped into those interactions without my noticing? It’s more than likely, especially since I try to

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