Claiming the Morgan Syndicate was supposed to be the hardest part—but now they have to keep it.
Seth Morgan has taken his place as the head of the Morgan syndicate, with his cousin Emma by his side. But the change of regime came at a heavy price: Emma’s mother is missing, and the Oliver syndicate wants Emma’s head on a platter.
And there are secrets—skeletons from their parents coming to haunt them. Seth is moving pieces, struggling to keep Emma safe and peace in the city while Emma alienates her lover and grapples with her past.
With threats on every side, and unable to trust their allies, Emma makes a misstep that could cost more than the syndicate is willing to pay: the life of it’s young queen.
Emma sniffs. He hates her tears, every goddamned time she cries, but this lesson is one she needs to understand. He digs his feet into the cool sand, just for somewhere to send the disquiet that threatens the edges of his nerves.
He splashes a little rum on the ground, for his brother and best friend, and says, “Now, you and I have earned our name more than anyone else who bears it, and we owe it to Caleb to take our place. But greatness isn't something that comes at once. We'll be tested from every side. The truth is, Em, that we won't maintain our rule if we act like we have before.”
Now he levels his attention on her. Of course she is gaping at him, eyes so wide and the tears are just trails on her cheeks. Her mouth is open slightly, in surprise. From his calm rises his ferocity, and he claims that awe with which she regards him.
“We have to act as one, which means we make decisions together. A kingdom divided always falls in the end. I can promise you no more secrets. Can you do the same for me?”
The softness drains from her eyes. There, that which she has demanded of him so many times, finally he can offer to her. He has demolished the wall between them so quickly and easily and suddenly that she has no time to veil her reaction. It's everything she's wanted, but done for the sake of the empire, not for her. He brazenly and intently watches her, and she knows he can read every sliver of emotion that grips her: relief, fear, the bitterness of sacrificing her emotions for the benefit of her people. It's a cold place—to be a ruler, where your personal feelings take backseat to the good of the syndicate. Can she make the same sacrifice? He's waiting to find out.
About AN Latro
I loathe writing bios. So let’s play a game. One of these three are true…
AN Latro lives in Ireland with her dog and cat and an over abundance of books. She loves solitude and boy bands, and hearing from readers.
AN Latro lives in Florida, where the ocean is her favorite muse. She enjoys wine and tequila, and old movies about the mafia. She loves hearing from readers on Facebook and Twitter.
AN Latro is the pen name of two friends. They love hearing from readers, and are usually getting into trouble with new ideas for the syndicate.