Page 118 of Gravehouse

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

IVY

PAST

“I knowwho Le Boucher Sans Loi is,” I say, my throat squeezing the words thin.

His whole body locks beneath my hands.

I keep my eyes on him. “I know who’s been hunting La Maison Du Mal for eleven years.”

Silence drags for several seconds before his mouth finally moves. “Who.”

Not so much a question more than it is a demand. I hold his stare anyway because I know. I know right now that it doesn’t matter what I was trained to do. I’d drop it all for him in a heartbeat. I’ve never been one to make the same mistake twice.

I clear my throat. “It’s Emeric, Asher, my boss.”

He stays fixed on me without a single flinch.

His head slowly shakes, whatever fight he’s having with himself slipping away as he lets out a lazy breath. “Emeric is one of the founding families of La Maison Du Mal, Ivy.”

What? I almost ask him to repeat himself, because…what.

I keep my mouth shut. Frozen where I stand, I let his sentence hang there between us. I need to absorb the words before I react.

He continues. “Everything you’ve done, every job, every kill, every piece of intelligence you handed him. You were housekeeping. You were part of a very long vendetta that Emeric has held over La Maison Du Mal for—“he pauses, before rolling his eyes. “I mean shit, for as long as time.”

The carving of the loyalty wings, how much he loved Nonna, how he saved me when I was thirteen years old and trapped in a pedophile ring that was run by fucking Parker.

I shake my head. “No, why?” But the answer crawls up through my chest before I even finish asking.

Seventeen missed calls.

His eyes shift to the side, muscles in his face hardening.

I swallow against the ache. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I was going to.” He steps forward, his features tightening. “But you put a fucking bullet in me before I got the chance, Ivy.”

I open my mouth. Close it.

“And after that?” He rolls his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head. “I couldn’t trust you. Not until I knew you weren’t still under all the mind fuck of the Codex. Not until I knew Emeric hadn’t already hollowed you out and filled you back up with whatever the fuck he needed you to be.”

Silence.

Eleven years realigns through every memory. Every mission, every message, every time Emeric told me to trust the process with that calm tone. It made me feel handpicked for his design. It was all a fucking lie.

I curl my fingers into fists at my sides, biting crescents into my palms with my nails.

Asher scans my face, searching for the crack, the warning sign that I’m about to shatter into thousands of pieces that he can’t put back together. I don’t give him one.

“How are you talking right now?” I say, careful with my words. “If what you’re saying is true, then you know Emeric’s reach. Youknowhe has eyes and ears over every fucking speck of this world.”

“You’re right, he does.” His eyes narrow, as he lowers onto the single sofa. “Everywhere but here. Veilarath Lane.”

My stomach dips. “What?”