Page 56 of Secrets of the Six

"It's my Tia's gift," I reference Doña with reverence. "She thought it would bring out the color of my eyes."

His line of sight snaps up to meet mine and he grins. "A wise choice, Doña Otero."

Doña waves us out the door. "Enough of this. Such a handsome couple should be on their way to the opera. I trust you will keep my niece safe, Don Rogelio."

He presses a hand to his chest. "She is safe with me, I swear it."

Doña offers me one last look as I slip my fur stole over my shoulders to combat the nippy autumn breeze. "Have fun, mi querida."

"I will see you tonight, Tia. Don't wait up." I wink and walk out the door, arm in arm with Rogelio. Tonight, I will solidify my hold on his heart.

Chapter 19

Remus

In true Otero fashion, I'm alerted last minute my watchful eye will be required at the opera tonight. I've never been a fan of the theatre – possibly due to the Soberano's influence in its remodel. I've always found the opera itself to be beautiful, but the melancholy voices of the performers haunt me in my sleep, and I hate the trauma it elicits in me. I have my own box, solidifying me as one of the richest men in Orlencia, but I'm rarely in attendance. In fact, it's been about a year since I was last in the lavish auditorium. Despite my reservations, and my preference for the loud and boisterous music in the Night District, I will find my way to the Entertainment District where the gold-dome theatre beckons me to fulfill my duty to Otero.

It will be simple enough to keep an eye on Ines since she will be in the Murrieta box directly across auditorium from mine. The hardest part of the evening will be keeping my ego in check. Something primal stirs within my chest whenever she's within sight. I can't allow my jumbled thoughts and unwanted feelings to derail the meticulously crafted revenge I've craved since I was ten years old.

She is a piece to an intricate puzzle. Nothing more.

Desperately needing a drink and some friendly encouragement, I trot inside The Jaded Fox. Even this early in the evening, the bar is buzzing with excitement. I claim one of the empty barstools and watch one of my oldest friends, Shaw, run to-and-fro serving customers with a bright and genuine grin.

He was one of the lucky ones. Both of his parents managed to escape the Mass Execution and aid in leading survivors to the catacombs. However, Shaw's need for revenge is still as important as the rest of us. He watched from an alley as his home was burned to the ground, watched as his parents' business was confiscated and everything they'd worked so hard for gone within seconds. He was forced to carry on as if nothing was wrong – as if he was somehow not as traumatized as those of us who lost loved ones. He was reminded throughout our childhood, and sometimes to this day, that he really has no need to be so bitter seeing as his family is still intact.

But what people don't always realize is although your body might have survived, the mind doesn't.

Shaw's father sits in the catacombs a hollow shell of who he used to be. His failure to protect and provide haunt him. Some call Shaw's father a coward for running when other Venturans lost their lives fighting. At times I think Shaw believes his father to be lesser of a man because of his decisions.

In the end, his father made a choice; the decision to protect his wife and son above all others. Was it the right choice? It's not for me to decide, but public opinion would say no.

Despite the whispers and quick glances of disdain, Shaw hasn't allowed the negativity to crush his spirit. He's more determined than ever to see the wrongs against our people righted, especially seeing how his father has lost the will to live and is waiting for death to claim him.

Six years ago, when Otero funded Don Rafael's rise in the Night District, I strategically bought businesses that were dying, only to remodel, restaff, and reopen them in grandeur. One of the first endeavors I took on was giving a run-down bar a second chance. I put Shaw in charge of running the place, expecting him to be my eyes and ears in the Night District. Everyone speaks with loose tongues when in the presence of a friendly bartender, thinking their secrets will remain with him.

If only my adversaries knew how far my reach truly stretched.

Some of our brethren in the catacombs objected to Shaw's involvement, claiming there were braver candidates more suitable, but I refused to bend to their will.

From the day I lost my parents, Cassius and Shaw have been my brothers. I learned a lot from Shaw and have an unyielding loyalty to him, especially after he kept my nightmares a secret. He's never once told a soul of my panic attacks. Although I have them under control now, back when I was a scared ten-year-old, I had little control over any aspect of my life.

I'm glad I trusted my gut.

Shaw has proven to be worthy of his position. He's the reason I weaseled my way into the Soberano's good graces. Shaw overheard one of the Dons on the Soberano's small council griping about how the ruler wanted a festival thrown in his honor, but no one seemed up to the task. So, what did I do? I threw a party unlike the Night District had ever seen before. It was the first masquerade carnival in decades and when the Soberano caught wind of the three-day jubilee, he summoned me to his office and commissioned me to do something for him. But bigger and better. And I did just that.

I made a name for myself by catering to the middle-class and elite to orchestrate a festival worthy of the Soberano's praise. I found myself sitting at his table and given jurisdiction over the Night and Entertainment Districts shortly after the celebration.

It has been difficult not to plunge a knife into his chest, but I have listened to Otero and have bided my time.

I've thrown him a celebratory festival every year for the last five years, each one more vibrant and debaucherous than the last. With his complete faith and trust in me, he doesn't question my decisions and gives me free reign to whatever resources and information I need and want. All the information, that is, except the secrets between the Soberano and Severo Murrieta. They've always been close and despite my charm, I've been stiff-armed out of that duo's relationship.

Perhaps, that blind spot will be illuminated with Ines slipping into their inner circle.

The thought of her being harmed in the process causes bile to rise in my throat.

I swallow that fear, purging it from my mind. She knew when she agreed to be my spy she would be in danger's way. Why am I the one struggling with her decision? All my friends, myself included, are at risk daily. We have so much more to lose as Venturans in hiding than she does as a thief from the Brogratto.

Guilt fingers through my mind, creeping into every crevice of my soul. It's one thing for us to be discovered and executed – we were always meant for the gallows – but she isn't one of us. Was it wrong to bring her into this?