Page 74 of Shattered Queens: Veronica
“You’re lucky I’m not having you killed.” I say it with a coldness that surprises even me.
That’s when it happens, the moment her mask finally shatters. The "remorse" vanishes, replaced by a sharpened, predatory sneer. She scoffs, her voice dripping with years of buried resentment. “You always thought you were better than everyone else, didn't you? Seems that’s not the case,Veronica. To think where those photographs have been…and who’s seen them.”
She gets up and runs out the front door. I’m too shocked to move. The thought of my brothers having seen photographs of me. The knowledge that they knew about something so big and kept it from me is too much. I grab my bag, and as I’m heading out the door, I pull out my phone. My vision tunnels as I open the group thread with my brothers. I don’t give them context. I don’t give them a choice. I send them an emergency message letting them know I need to see them at Caleb’s penthouse.
As the elevator descends, I catch my reflection in the mirrored doors. My hair is a mess, and my eyes are wild, but it’s the smear of Tabitha’s blood on my hand that holds my gaze. I don’t wipe it off.
I arrive at my cousin’s penthouse and see that he’s invited himself as well. I know that he’s involved. My brothers and cousins do everything as a unit,for the sake of the familybullshit. I know they can sense something is off. I get straight to it.
“Why?” I ask.
Ian speaks first. “You’ll have to be more specific, little sister.”
“Tabitha, she told me about the photographs.”
“How did she—” Gabe starts, stepping forward.
“Why, goddamn it!” I scream, the sound tearing from my throat and echoing off the floor-to-ceiling glass. I don’t let Gabe speak. “Why do you insist on keeping me in the dark about everything in my life? I’m the one on the screens! I’m the one they’re looking at! I deserve to know!”
“Veronica.” Caleb says my name in such a gentle tone.
“No! Don’t you Veronica me.” I can’t even face them. “How did you find the photographs?” They look at each other. “Tell me!” I demand.
Gabe is the one to speak. “Miles found them online, on the black market.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in my stomach. “Miles knew?”
“Yes, he was protecting you.Wewere protecting you,” someone says, but I don’t know who.
Ian steps toward me. “We knew that if you found out, it’d be too much for you. You would run from this. From us. None of us wants to see you self-destruct. Because that’s what you do. We can’t bear to see you do that to yourself.”
“You didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. None of you!” Miles knew, and he’s been lying to me this whole time. I went to him for help, but he knew all along. My lips tremble. “I don’t want to fucking see any of you. Stay the fuck away from me.” Then I turn and leave.
Miles
Chapter 34
I’m sitting down, lookingat my mother’s garden. Tia Susana has been resting since I arrived. My plan was to welcome the new year with Veronica, but I received word from Tia’s doctor that she wasn’t doing well, so I rushed to be with her.
I pull up the security feed for the building, my eyes tracking the digital time stamp. It flickers for a few minutes, static white noise that makes the hair on my neck stand up. I don't like gaps. I don't like silence.
I call the front desk, my thumb tapping a restless rhythm against the phone. Will answers on the second ring. He tells me everything is fine, that Veronica is in her apartment, safe and sound. I check her tracker next. The red dot glows steadily on the map of her floor plan, but when I try to pull the feed to her living room, the screen remains a mocking, empty screen.
“Camilo.”
The voice breaks through my concentration. I lock my phone and slide it into my pocket as Tia Susana approaches.
“Tia, you should be resting,” I say, my voice automatically dropping into the dutiful tone I’ve used since I was a child.
“Mijo, I needed some fresh air.” She stops beside me, her gaze searching mine in the moonlight. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Not about what, but about who.” I glance at her. We don’t talk about this, not relationships, not feelings.
She doesn't flinch. She just waits, her silence a heavy, expectant thing. “Who, mijo?”
