Despite all her initial suspicions and speculations that I might have survived the fire, she’d lowered her guard and let herself finally, fully believe in the illusion of my supposed death. She’d been so smug, satisfied, and secure in her triumph—a triumph that I had just ripped away during the most important moment of her life.

My grin widened.

“Why, it’s so very nice to see y’all again,” I said, addressing the crowd. “I thought that my funeral yesterday was festive, but this—this is something else.”

People shifted on their feet, mouths still gaping open, but everyone kept staring at me, wondering how I could possibly be alive and what I was going to do next.

Finally, when everyone had gotten a good, long look at me, I faced Madeline again. Her shock was rapidly fading, and I could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind as she tried to figure out what I had planned.

“Oh, yes,” I said in another loud, sneering drawl, “I say that we all raise a glass and toast to the new queen of Ashland.”

25

I raised my champagne glass high, but no one in the crowd followed suit. I glanced around, then shook my head and clucked my tongue, as if I were saddened by the sudden lack of support for Madeline.

“Actually, Maddie,” I drawled again, “I wouldn’t celebrate your victory just yet. It looks to me like there’s still some question as to who the biggest, baddest bitch in Ashland actually is. After all, you told everyone that you’d orchestrated my murder. But here I am, just like usual, just like always, so I think we can all see that that’s simply not the case. I don’t want to call you a liar but . . .” I gave a delicate shrug of my shoulders.

Madeline’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How the hell did you survive that fire?”

“Frozen peas,” I quipped. “Who knew they were so good for you?”

Her face creased into a frown, and confused whispers trickled through the crowd. No one got the joke but me. Maybe someday I’d explain it to them. Maybe not. A girl should always keep a few secrets to herself.

Madeline kept staring at me, so I decided to answer at least some of her questions.

“I survived because I’m a badass bitch. That’s all you need to know.”

“But—but—but there was a body!” she sputtered, finally losing her composure.

“There was, wasn’t there? And I have you to thank for that, Maddie. Remember your maid? That poor woman you sent into my restaurant to kill me knowing full well that I would take her out instead? The one whose body you sent Dobson into the Pork Pit to find, but that he never did? Well, she was on ice in one of my freezers. She came in handy when you started tossing Molotov cocktails into my restaurant.”

Madeline’s frown deepened. “But the coroner confirmed that it was you. And your friends, your family, your funeral . . .” Her voice trailed off as her mind began to whirl at how thoroughly I’d fooled her and everyone else.

“Did you really think that you were the only one who could plan, set, and execute a trap?” I snorted. “Please. You were so sure that you’d won that you never even thought that I could be playing you, that I could be setting you up the same way that you had me. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy, Maddie. Your mama would certainly have never made such a mistake. Oh, wait. Actually, Mab did make the same exact mistake back when she tried to kill me and my sister when we were kids. She assumed that we were dead, but we escaped her, and we made her pay for what she’d done to our family. And now I’m here to do the same to you. Like mother, like daughter, after all.”

I cluck-cluck-clucked my tongue, mocking her even more. A few laughs sounded at the edges of the crowd, but they dried up when Madeline turned her gaze in that direction. Two red spots bloomed on her pale cheeks, her body trembled with barely restrained fury, and her hands clenched into fists. A drop of green acid squeezed out from between her tight fingers and fell to the floor, causing the white marble to shriek, wail, and start smoking.

But she quickly regained control of herself. She couldn’t afford not to. Not with this crowd of sharks gathered around her. She might be the strongest among them, but they could still sense weakness, and weakness would get you killed quicker than anything else in Ashland.

So Madeline unclenched her fists and favored me with a dazzling smile. “Well, Gin, it’s all well and good that you survived the fire. Actually, it rather pleases me.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Her smile widened. “Because it will make killing you now all the better.”

She looked past me at the crowd that had now formed a circle around us. “Some of you were questioning my strength. Well, what better way than to kill Blanco right now? Surely, there would be no more unpleasant disputes then. Are we agreed?”

All around me, the bosses nodded, looking back and forth from me to Madeline.

“Well, then, now that that is settled . . .” Madeline glanced at Emery.

Emery waved her hand at the giant waiters. “What are you waiting for? Get her! Now!”

I’d thought something like this might happen, and we’d prepared for it. Before the giants could take one threatening step toward me, my friends erupted from the corners of the room, guns drawn. Xavier drew a bead on the three giants closest to him. Bria did the same to the ones near her corner, as did Phillip and Owen. Jo-Jo pulled a small revolver from her white patent-leather purse, while Sophia stepped out of the crowd, flexing her fists, obviously wanting to use them on someone. Up on the second floor, Roslyn brandished a gun and watched Finn’s back while he grabbed his own weapon and put his red sniper laser sight right in the middle of Emery’s throat. She froze, as did the rest of her men.

“You didn’t really think that I’d come in here without some sort of plan, did you?” I asked Madeline in a soft voice.

She stiffened. “What have you done?”

I ignored her and turned to look at the crowd of people gathered all around us, their eyes on the guns pointed at them.

“My friends and I own this room, along with the rest of the mansion. All the perimeter guards are dead, and, as you can see, we have more than enough firepower to make a serious dent in the lot of you. So if I were you, I’d be good, be quiet, and stay out of the way.” I shrugged. “Otherwise, some unfortunate accidents might happen. And wouldn’t that just be a shame.”