Page 138 of Decimation

I nod, gesturing for Leandra to sit. She does so reluctantly, her gaze fixed on Ezekiel, her expression unreadable.

I take my seat beside her, my gaze never leaving Ezekiel’s face. “I trust you’ve been well,” I say, keeping my tone casual.

“Well enough,” he replies, his smile faint. “And you? I hear you’ve been… busy.”

“Busy,” I agree, my tone dry. “But then, so have you.”

He inclines his head, acknowledging the point. “Indeed.”

The waiter arrives, setting down glasses and pouring whiskey for each of us. Leandra takes hers, her fingers trembling slightly, but she doesn’t drink.

Ezekiel’s gaze shifts to her, his expression unreadable. “And who is this?” he asks, his tone polite, but I still hear the curiosity beneath it.

“Leandra,” I say, my voice firm. “My wife.”

His eyebrows lift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “Your wife,” he repeats, his tone thoughtful. “I wasn’t aware you’d married.”

“It’s a recent development,” I say, my tone dismissive.

He nods, his gaze lingering on Leandra for a moment longer before he turns back to me. “And what brings you here tonight?”

“Business,” I say, my tone curt. “And curiosity.”

He smiles faintly, leaning back in his seat. “Curiosity,” he repeats. “A dangerous thing.”

“Indeed,” I agree, my tone dry.

The conversation continues, a delicate dance of words and implications that tells me Ezekiel thinks I’m in his pocket now, that I’ll just dance to his merry little tune, but right now I don’t care.

I’m too acutely aware of Leandra beside me; the way she sits so stiffly, the way her gaze flickers between Ezekiel and me, the way her fingers tighten around her glass.

She’s silent, like a quiet storm waiting to break.

I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, because Ezekiel is more than just a man; I know he’s a ghost from her past, a reminder of everything she’s endured, everything she’s lost.

And as I watch him, as I listen to his words I feel a surge of anger, of fury so strong all I can think about is wrapping my hands his throat and squeezing until I feel the last bits of oxygen leave his body.

But I don’t, because this is necessary, because this is part of the game too. I have already beaten one adversary by outsmarting them, I know I can do the same with this one too.

Ican’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.

He is standing inches from me, and every cell in my body is screaming loudly.

Does Lazarus know who he is? Of course he does, that’s why we’re here. Reality hits me like a ten-ton truck, and I’m shaking so badly I can barely hold it together.

“Leandra,” Lazarus says so softly, as if he only wants me to hear him speaking.

I let him guide me on, guide me further into this new form of hell.

All around us are men and women, and the things they are doing… I shut it down, I have to. I have to shut those thoughts out and shut up that voice in my head, because I’m going to lose control, and then what will Lazarus do this time? How will he cover for me out in public?

I glance at our bodyguards. I know they are here to protect our Grand Master and not me, but for one fleeting moment I convince myself that maybe, just maybe they might protect me from him.

Only, no one protects me from him.

Ezekiel says something, and the sound of his voice sends another wave of panic through me.

I loved him. No, I thought I loved him, but what I felt was not love. It was not. He took me, he broke me, and he groomed me. What I did, how I acted, all of it was justifiable, it was logical because of the horror he put me through.