Breaker (Unmasked #3)

31. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Breaker

L ies are like seeds. Once planted, they take root and sprout from the earth, fresh and vulnerable. If left untouched and unquestioned, they grow sturdy, stronger, and more believable. If anyone dares question their credibility, one can simply pluck a leaf as evidence of the truth.

That’s how the Snyder Group was born. Years ago, Reaper planted a seed. The lies grew. We nurtured them, subtly dropping hints at small events hosted by those in Rune’s circle. We let small bits of information slip. Like we may or may not buy and sell more than property.

Years ago, we formed the corporation as a cover to purchase real estate around the country. When we formed the plan to take Delilah, we strategically purchased properties solely to get Rune’s attention. When we began buying up hotels in his territory, Rune took notice and quickly made an offer on our latest chain. This new group, Snyder Inc., was stepping on his toes a little. Of course, we sold it all to him, just as we planned. We barely had the chain for a month before his lawyers called us.

On the outside, we’re the Snyder Group, just another set of businessmen much like Rune, buying up property, rubbing elbows with politicians, and doing shady shit on the side.

I’m the main face of the company, the elusive billionaire playboy who inherited money from his father, started Snyder Inc. to flip properties and knows nothing about running it. I’m so bad at it that I have my business reps handle all the details, and I just sign papers. But I’m too busy gallivanting around the world to be bothered with details, so I never set foot in an office.

It’s all bullshit, but it’s a great story, and people love a handsome bachelor with too much money and no time for anything other than sex and parties.

The funny thing is that no one questions it. They love the lies we tell, eating up the scraps, wanting to be near Ben and his money. It helps I don’t dispel the rumors that I inherited my money from my weapons dealer father when he supposedly passed. He was just as elusive as me, buying and selling to anyone, anywhere, and no one ever saw his face.

It worked to our advantage that no one knew it was Fallon behind the scenes for over a decade, selling weapons when we needed to explain the money Ben inherited. Not even Rune knew Fallon was dealing firearms on the side. Fallon had a brilliant cover, helping fund the school while he trained his future soldiers.

Everyone in Rune’s inner circle is oblivious to the truth. Many of them had helped the elusive arms dealer either purchase weapons over the years or sell them off. Then again, people look the other way when they have their own secrets to hide. Like Rune.

He loves doing business with Snyder Inc. He especially loves that I am so incompetent at handling financial matters that I simply sign whatever documents are placed in front of me. Rune may have paid millions, but he got a great deal on the shipment of weapons pending arrival at his lodge. Of course, I was too busy to come in and sign papers the day the sale finalized, so I just video-called Delilah and did it all digitally.

Busy getting ready for the night we had planned with them.

She was so mad that day. All spitfire and rudeness. She didn’t even bother to hide it. She’s not as good at pretending as I am. And I’m nowhere near as talented as the people in this room, smiling and laughing, donating hundreds of thousands to charity, pretending they don’t gather one, sometimes twice a year, for a truly heinous act.

Act’s I’m too familiar with.

There have been many times in my life when I wish I were different. That Fallon never took me, that I never had Nanny and our sunny kitchen, that I never went to the school and learned how cruel and hard life truly is.

But today, I am grateful for every moment and every dark memory. For the heartbreak I endured leaving Nanny. The humiliation of the girl in the village.

The day I earned my name.

Because if I hadn’t lived exactly as I did, endured every lashing from Fallon, the blue room, the pain of growing up to be Fallon’s soldier, I’d not be here, right now, standing in a room full of my enemies, watching the woman I’ve adored for the last four years.

I have seen little of her since that day outside the office building, but now she’s right before me, walking arm and arm with fucking Zane.

I grind my teeth, as I struggle to keep myself in check. My hands ball into tight fists at my sides, fingers itching to rip Zane’s greedy hands off our Little Red and punch him in his fucking face, shoving all this pent up rage onto him. Break his fingers one by one. Unleash an entire magazine into his skull.

Then reload and do it again.

My blood simmers at seeing Zane’s gaze devour her whole. Cora’s long-sleeved, red dress plunges to her navel, her breasts peeking out temptingly. The back drapes even lower, revealing those little dimples above her ass that I’d fantasized about for so long. I finally got to touch them that night in the club, and I’ve been craving her ever since.

My back straightens when I see Cora jerk her arm from Zane’s grasp, causing the dress to shift, the two long slits on either side revealing her thighs. His gaze dips to her legs, and I think I may have a brain aneurysm from the restraint it’s taking not to stalk across the room and kill him.

Loud, vicarious laughter off to my right snags my attention, and I glance over to find Dave Sobian, Delilah’s ex-husband, with a group of women.

Fucking prick that guy is.

He turns my way and raises his glass. I lift mine back in greeting. The remnants of two black eyes color the space under his mask green, and I smile inwardly. Rune must have beaten the shit out of him after we took the girls, looking for answers. Satisfaction curls up my spine. Dave cheated on our girl, and he deserves everything that’s coming to him. Rune has surrounded himself with evil monsters who feed off cruelty, Dave being one of them.

I fit right in.

Rune’s somewhere in the crowd, and the thought alone makes my stomach churn. It doesn’t matter that I’m in a crowded room, I’m feel alone knowing Rune is in this gallery. I’m a fool for thinking I could do this alone. Striker and Viper were always by my side before. Now I’m in a room full of our enemies and I’m barely able to breathe under this suffocating mask because of the number of people in this room who’d flay me alive if they knew my true identity.

Fallon’s son. The man who helped orchestrate the kidnapping of Rune Gavin’s daughter and his adopted daughter, all while pretending to be a billionaire.

Well, that part I’m not exactly pretending.

A firm clap on my back startles me from my thoughts, forcing my focus away from Dave and the group of women to Zane, who’s suddenly standing beside me.

I’ve never in my life been more grateful for a fucking mask.

Panic and anger collide in my chest, making my heart rattle in my ribcage.

“Benjamin-fucking-Snyder.” A lopsided grin forms on Zane’s face, hazel eyes sparking. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

My eyes drop to his outstretched hand as I breathe in deeply, trying to tamp down the violence brewing in my chest. I blink, focusing on his fingers, the manicured nails, the fair skin of his palm. There’s a fleeting thought that there should still be blood on his hands from all his crimes.

He helped kill my brother.

And nearly killed me.

I’m an idiot. There’s no way I can do this alone.

Zane’s gaze drops from the black material covering my eyes to my mouth, the only part of my face he can see. I force a smile and grip his hand. Hard. “Glad to be here.”

His lips purse ever so slightly as I tighten my grip. I release his hand, my fingers tingling, like his evil is slowly seeping into my pores, infecting me. The urge to wipe them on my pants is so strong that I switch my glass from one hand to the other, allowing my fingers to trail in the condensation. The cool wetness eases the growing knot in my chest, but it’s still there. I tap my pinky ring on the glass, drawing his eyes.

“I heard you made quite the donation to the cause,” Zane says. Thanks to the black mesh covering my eyes, he can’t see them, though I can’t hide forever.

I nod, maintaining a smile. “I did,” I say, amazed that my voice comes out normal, not strangled by the tight panic gumming up my throat.

“Good man.” Zane claps on my shoulder. His eyes are a little glassy behind his green mask, telling me he’s tipsy. “Art is crucial. We must ensure it remains in schools and that our children receive a well-rounded education.”

Asshole . He knows nothing about kids or schools.

“But I’m glad you’re here,” Zane says. “Clyde tells me you are interested in our offer.”

“Indeed,” I say, my stomach roiling.

The offer to join Rune’s private lodge. All because we sold a container of weapons and ammo to Rune for his yearly hunts, along with our hotel chain.

Weapons—an entire fucking armory—are just sitting waiting for us at the lodge.

For her.

“I can’t wait,” Zane says. “You’re going to love it. The adrenaline is practically orgasmic. The smells, the sounds. There’s nothing like it.”

Oh, I know .

“I’m familiar with the hunt,” I say. “There’s nothing like tracking your prey. Locking in on it. Getting that perfect shot that takes them down.”

His twisted grin sends a chill down my spine. Little does he know, I am no stranger to stalking my victims. Luring them in, gaining their trust, and devouring all the information they spill, unaware of my true intentions, until it’s too late.

Like him right now.

When Zane claps my back again, I contemplate breaking his fingers one by one to remove them from me. Stepping away from his repulsive touch, my eyes scan for an escape route, desperate to get away before I lose control. That’s when I spot the grand piano in the corner of the room.

“We have a special event planned for this next hunt,” he says, leaning forward like he’s trying to peer through the fabric covering my eyes. “Once we go over the terms of your membership, we can discuss the rest.”

In certain circles, rumors of Rune’s lodge run rampant. He never confirms or denies them for good reason. It’s an invitation-only club, reserved for those who have earned trust from his inner circle. We’ve meticulously planned this for years. Every step calculated, every detail gone over multiple times.

And now it’s time to see if it’s actually going to work.

“Rune should be around here somewhere,” Zane says, scanning the room. “He’ll want to talk with you.”

Panic rushes through me, making sweat bead on my brow. I may be good at pretending, but even I have my limits.

Like standing face to face with the man who tore our brother apart.

That familiar tightness in my chest returns, unease needling at my fingers. My ring taps at my glass. I glance around some more, grateful Zane can’t see my face or how my gaze darts all over, continuing to look for an escape as a nervous tension grips my every thought, snagging it on the dread bubbling in my chest.

I’m not supposed to be here. Alone. We had a plan, and it got fucked the second we took Cora and were forced to return her. It got really fucked when I set things into motion. Way too soon.

If I mess this up, Rune will slip through our fingers, and we’re all dead.

I have to do this right, so he never sees us coming.

Now it’s my turn to be a dick. I give Zane an overly enthusiastic pat on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little. I point to the pretty woman standing next to the piano. “She looks a little lonely.”

I toss him a smile as I walk away, relieved he’s not following me. Trying not to be obvious, I glance around but don’t see Cora anywhere. Maybe she went home. She and Delilah rarely stayed long at these types of functions.

As I walk, Dave tries to flag me down, probably wondering if I’ll show up at his late-night party that he invited Ben to earlier today. I’d rather cut off my hand than attend that mess. When I reach the piano and the woman next to it, I slip past her and take a seat.

My fingers land on the ivory keys, and memories slam into me. Fallon behind me, patiently teaching me how to read sheet music. The sharp sting of a wooden ruler against my knuckles when I made a mistake. His soft words of encouragement and gentle squeeze on my shoulder when I successfully played an entire song without messing up.

He wanted me to be just like him. We have the same eyes, the same number of fingers, and the same capacity for violence.

As my fingers glide over keys, I sink into the music, pouring myself into each note, my heart light at first, growing heavier as the music hits the crescendo. By the time I release the last key, the last note still ringing in the air, I blink back from that blank space my mind escapes to when I play.

I stand to take my bow, and applause echoes through the room. My gaze sweeps across the sea of faces, searching for her. Stepping back into the crowd, I shake hands, my skin burning from each touch, my chest knotting from the number of people touching my skin who would kill me in a heartbeat if they knew who I was.

“I hear you may join us at Rune’s lodge this year,” a voice says from next to me. I turn and find myself face-to-face with Don Zimmer and his wife.

Again, I’ve never been so grateful for a mask.

I take his outstretched hand, wishing I was wearing gloves so his evil couldn’t touch me the way it has touched others. I’ve seen what this man is capable of. He makes me look tame.

“Possibly,” I say, trying not to rip my grasp from his enthusiastic hand pumping.

Tap, tap, tap . My pinky finger hits my thigh.

When he finally lets my hand go, I shove it in my pocket, gathering it in a fist.

Don leans in to whisper, “I heard he’s planned a special event this year. A celebration of sorts.”

“So I’ve been told,” I say, still searching the room for our Little Red. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Anxiety tingles at the back of my neck, making my skin prick. I’m not sure if it’s from being surrounded by so many poisonous smiles, or that fact I can’t find her, but my chest feels so tight, clawing with unease, I’m about to burst open.

I don’t see her, or Zane, or Rune.

Where the fuck is Harlow?

“If you’ll excuse me.” With a practiced smile, I step onto the balcony, but it’s empty except for a few stragglers. It’s getting late and I’m beginning to think they’ve all left when I spot Harlow coming out of the restroom.

I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot him a text.

A second later, Harlow takes out his own phone and reads my message. His eyes find mine, and I see the panic contorting his features from here.

Harlow lifts his chin toward the exit. I read his meaning clearly and subtly nod back at him before he darts down the hall to his left.

Fuck .