Paris is a fixer for mob families on the Grecian islands when a powerful crime lord hires her to investigate a bombing. Insinuating herself into Zarek\u2019s circle is the chance for revenge that Paris has been waiting for since she was a child. Years ago, Zarek wiped out everyone she loved. Now it\u2019s Paris\u2019s turn. Her target? Zarek\u2019s beautiful daughter, Helen.<\/p>\n
Helen wants nothing more than to abandon the violent world in which she was raised\u2015and worse, an arranged marriage to a man she barely knows. In Paris, Helen sees the perfect tool to help her escape. And in Helen, Paris sees a desperate woman who will be the perfect revenge. As the two work together to find the bomber, and their connection becomes increasingly intimate, Zarek\u2019s empire grows more fragile and their own bonds of loyalty and purpose are tested.<\/p>\n
When murder sends them fleeing to Troy, danger only brings Paris and Helen closer together\u2015in love, in fury, and in the will to survive. If Zarek wants a war, Paris and Helen are ready to ignite it.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou destroyed my plans tonight, Paris. And I want your help finishing what I intended.\u201d<\/p>\n
She surges forward, her knife flicking open, and then I am being propelled backward until I am pinned against the wall, rough wood digging into my shoulder blades.<\/p>\n
The tip of her blade edges against my throat, and I feel every beat of my heart thundering within me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWas it your bomb?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I breathe.<\/p>\n
I am so close to Paris, I can almost taste her. She smells of TNT and woodsmoke, and I am as intoxicated as I am afraid.<\/p>\n
She eases back, but her knife remains where it is, the tip digging into my skin.<\/p>\n
\u201cTalk.\u201d<\/p>\n
It is not the knife that loosens my words, but the fact that I really do need her. So I offer a piece of honesty, if not the whole of it.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt the right moment,\u201d I tell her. \u201cThe perfect one, when the party was at its height. I was going to step off the cliffs and be free of this world.\u201d<\/p>\n
Confusion flickers in her dark eyes. \u201cYou were going to kill yourself,\u201d she says. \u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I tell her. \u201cI would have survived the fall. I would have been free. If I leave, I will be hunted. But if I am dead\u2014there is no one to hunt.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her knife eases away from my throat.<\/p>\n
I inhale deeply, grateful for the gasping breaths I can take now that the pressure of the blade is not robbing me of the ability.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo you want me to what? Help you fake your death at the end of this?\u201d Paris is watching me carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I can do that on my own. But someone already wants to kill me. If you help me find out who, it will be easy enough to frame them for my death. And I can give you enough money and resources to get away from the Families and start over,\u201d I promise her. \u201cOr enough power to get a better, higher rank and continue playing the Family\u2019s game. If you help me be free, I can\u2014I can give you whatever you want.\u201d<\/p>\n
A smile flickers across her face now. \u201cYes, Helen,\u201d Paris says. \u201cI think you can.\u201d<\/p>\n
She steps back, flicking the knife shut and stowing it in the pocket of her black jeans so fluidly I barely see the movement.<\/p>\n
\u201cShould we talk terms?\u201d I ask, my voice shaking more than it has any right to.<\/p>\n
Paris steps away, though she remains facing me. She hooks a chair with her foot and pulls it closer to her and straddles it, leaning her forearms on the back. \u201cSit down.\u201d<\/p>\n
I glance at the stool at the bar and the ragged love seat on the other side of the room and then, flustered and uncertain, I sit down on the floor in front of her, folding my legs neatly beneath me. It puts me at an immediate and unexpected disadvantage, because Paris is above me, looking down.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t\u2014you don\u2019t give the orders here,\u201d I manage. \u201cI need to ensure my father doesn\u2019t find out you\u2019re working for me, rather than him.\u201d<\/p>\n
Paris raises an eyebrow and waits.<\/p>\n
A blush creeps up my cheeks. \u201cSo what is it you want, Paris?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI saved your life. So this? This will be on my terms. Do you understand?\u201d<\/p>\n
A flash of movement, and her hand flicks out, tracing the place on my neck where she held her knife just moments ago. One of her rings just brushes my throat, the cool metal sending my pulse racing.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy terms,\u201d she repeats. One ringed finger hooks my chin and tilts it forcibly upward. \u201cLook me in the eye, Princess.\u201d<\/p>\n
I swallow, meeting her eyes. My heart pulses against my ribs. I have never ached so much as I do when Paris is staring down at me, fire in her eyes.<\/p>\n
But I can do this. With Paris\u2019s help, I can do this.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour terms,\u201d I say hoarsely, and she drops her hand from my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen we have a deal, Helen,\u201d Paris says as she stands, her rings clicking gently, and I notice she\u2019s retrieved her lighter from somewhere. \u201cI\u2019ll see you tomorrow. Your place.\u201d<\/p>\n
I nod, push myself to my feet. \u201cTomorrow,\u201d I say breathlessly.<\/p>\n
See also<\/p>\n
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