Crown of Lies (Pretty Ruthless Monsters #2)

43. Quinn

43

QUINN

My mind is racing as we leave the club. The revelation about my tattoo has my thoughts spinning, pieces of the puzzle finally starting to click into place.

“Fuck,” I mutter, hopping on the bike behind Killian as he starts up his bike. “All this time, it was right there.”

I wrap my arms around his waist as he revs the engine, and we peel out of the parking lot with the wind whipping through my hair.

The city blurs around us as Killian pushes the bike faster. I can feel the tension in his body, the urgency matching my own. We’ve been chasing leads for so long, and now we’ve stumbled onto something big.

Really fucking big.

I lean into Killian’s back, my mind already several steps ahead. We need to get the tattoo analyzed and make a copy of that hidden pattern, first and foremost. I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye, but it’ll be a little inconvenient to strip down and pull out a black light every time I need to show someone new.

Killian takes a sharp turn, and I tighten my grip. He’s a skilled rider, confident in every move, and I trust him completely. The bike weaves through traffic, the engine’s roar drowning out the city noise.

My thoughts drift to Nico and Atlas. They’ll be waiting for us at the shop, probably wondering what the hell is so urgent. I can’t wait to see their faces when we tell them.

We pull up to the tattoo shop just as the neon “OPEN” sign flickers off. My heart is still racing, matching the thrum of the bike’s engine as Killian cuts it.

I hop off, legs a bit wobbly from the ride and the rough sex that feels like it was hours ago but only just ended minutes before we hopped on the bike. Nico and Atlas are already here, waiting with looks of curiosity mixed with mild concern.

“What’s the big emergency?” Nico asks, pushing off the brick wall he was leaning against.

I shake my head, gesturing toward the shop. “Inside. You’re gonna want to see this.”

Atlas raises an eyebrow but follows without comment. Killian brings up the rear, his presence solid and reassuring as always.

We push through the front door, the bell jingling softly. Emmett looks up from behind the counter, surprise evident on his face.

“Hey, Quinn. Is everything—” he starts, but I wave him off.

“Just need the back room for a minute.”

He shrugs, turning back to his cleanup. A couple of other Enigma members give us curious looks as we pass, but no one else says anything.

The back room is cluttered with supplies and half-finished designs. I clear a space on one of the tables, heart pounding. This is it. The moment of truth.

“Quinn, what’s going on?” Atlas asks, his curiosity clearly getting the best of him.

Instead of answering, I shrug out of my shirt, exposing my naked back. “Killian, can you get the light, please?”

He flicks on the blue light we snagged from the club, aiming it at my tattoo. For a moment, nothing happens. Then I hear Nico’s sharp intake of breath as the hidden pattern emerges.

Nico leans in, eyes wide. “Holy fuck.”

Atlas lets out a low whistle. “Is that what I think it is?”

I nod, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. “It’s the marker.”

I watch as Atlas and Nico lean in closer, their eyes tracing the intricate pattern revealed by the blue light. The hidden design glows eerily against my skin, casting shadows across their faces.

“Can’t believe it’s really right here,” Atlas murmurs, his fingers hovering just above the tattoo without touching.

Nico nods. “We’ve been looking for this for so long. I can’t believe it was right under our noses the whole time.”

The door creaks open, and Emmett pokes his head in. His eyes widen as he catches sight of the glowing tattoo on my back.

“Whoa, what’s that?” he asks, stepping fully into the room.

I turn to face him, careful to keep my chest covered. “It’s a tattoo my father gave me,” I explain, keeping my voice steady despite the rush of emotions that come with mentioning my dad.

Emmett’s brow furrows, and I can see the questions forming on his lips. But before he can voice them, Nico growls, “Hey, how about you don’t ogle my shirtless wife?”

A scowl flashes across Emmett’s face, his eyes darting between Nico and me. It’s clear he doesn’t appreciate the reminder of our marriage, or the fact that I’m in here with Nico and my other two men. He takes a deep breath, seeming to push down whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he addresses me directly, his tone carefully neutral. “Quinn, I’m closing up the shop soon. Oh, and Chop wanted me to let you know there’s been some activity on the east side. Looks like some of our old friends are making moves again.”

I nod, grateful for the information and the change of subject. “Thanks, Emmett. I’ll follow up with you about that soon.”

He gives a nod and leaves, closing the door behind him with a bit more force than necessary.

I turn back to the Princes, my mind racing with the implications of what we’ve discovered.

“You haven’t told him, have you?” Atlas asks.

I shake my head, feeling a twinge of guilt. “No, I haven’t. Until we knew more about the marker and the Dark Lotus Syndicate, I didn’t want to tell anyone.” I look around at the three of them, my gaze lingering on each face. “The only people I trusted with it are… well, you guys.”

Something flashes in all three men’s eyes—a kind of possessiveness that does something to me every time I see it.

The intensity of their reactions catches me off guard, but there’s also a warmth that spreads through my chest. These are my men, my partners, my confidants. The only ones I trust completely in this fucked-up world we live in.

The moment passes quickly, and we all refocus on the matter at hand.

I slowly start to untangle my jumbled thoughts. “So, my dad… he must have given me this hidden tattoo when he did the visible one. Blended it in somehow.”

Killian nods, his eyes tracing the glowing pattern on my back. “Makes sense. He probably wanted to keep it hidden, only visible under the right conditions.”

“Like a secret insurance policy,” Atlas adds, his voice thoughtful. “In case something happened to him, you’d have the mark if you ever needed it.”

I understand the logic behind it, I really do. My father was always thinking ahead, always planning for every contingency. But that doesn’t stop the anger from bubbling up inside me.

“Fuck,” I mutter, clenching my fists. “Why the hell didn’t he just tell me about it? Why keep it a secret?”

Nico reaches out, his hand warm on my shoulder. “Maybe he thought it was safer if you didn’t know. The less you knew, the less danger you’d be in.”

I shake my head. “But then he fucking died. He died unexpectedly and left me with this… this huge fucking secret that I didn’t even know about. How is that protecting me?”

The room falls silent for a moment. I can feel the men exchanging glances behind my back, probably trying to figure out how to calm me down.

But I don’t want to be calmed down. I want answers. I want to know why my father thought it was okay to mark me like this without my knowledge or consent. I want to know what the hell this marker means and why it’s so important that he’d risk everything to hide it on my body.

I turn back and stare at the glowing pattern on my skin. My fingers trace the outline where the ink lies hidden beneath my regular tattoo.

“It’s crazy,” I exhale, talking more to myself than the others. “All this time, I’ve been carrying around this… key. This marker. And I had no idea.”

I tear my gaze away from the tattoo, looking at each of the men in turn. “You know, this could be our chance. Our chance to get back what I… what I destroyed. What I took from you guys.” I swallow hard, pushing down the guilt that threatens to rise up. “We know this marker is probably worth a lot. Are you sure you don’t want me to use it? This is your chance to cash in.”

The silence that follows is heavy, but not for long. It’s Nico who breaks it, shaking his head firmly.

“No. It’s too risky, mia cara. Your dad may have left that mark on you, but he avoided the Dark Lotus Syndicate for a reason.”

I’m not totally shocked by his response. After all, he turned me down the last time I made the offer. Still, that was before Zoey pulled her little coup and had my men thrown out of the only home they’ve ever known.

Nico must see the uncertainty on my face because he steps closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “Look, what happened with my gang… it’s more complicated than just blaming you. We all made choices, we all played our parts. Using this mark, getting involved with the Syndicate… it’s not worth the risk.”

“He’s right,” Atlas says. “We all made our choices, and now we stick together.”

Killian nods. “Having that mark is like having a literal target on your back, siren. We need to get rid of it.”

A wave of relief washes over me. They’re all in agreement, united in their desire to protect me. It’s touching, really, how these three men who’ve lost so much because of me are still willing to put my safety first.

“Okay,” I say. “So how do we get rid of it? Could we tattoo over it?”

Atlas shakes his head. “The black light ink would still be visible, even faintly, under regular ink. It’s not enough.”

The same thought occurs to me as he’s giving his opinion. My stomach churns as I voice the only other option I can think of. “Then we’ll need to cut it off or something.”

Now that I’ve said the words out loud, I brace myself. I know how much it’s going to hurt, but I also know it’s necessary.

Nico’s face pales slightly. “Are you sure? That’s… that’s going to be extremely painful.”

“I know,” I say, meeting his gaze steadily. “But if it’s the only way to get rid of the target, then that’s what we have to do.”

Before we can fully discuss the details of removing the tattoo, my phone rings. The screen lights up with Victor’s name, and my heart skips a beat.

I pick up, putting it on speaker. “Victor, what’s up?”

“Quinn, I finally cracked it,” he says, sounding more excited than I’ve ever heard him. “I got through all the protections and encryptions hiding the source of those messages the guys received.”

My pulse quickens. “You’re on speaker. What did you find?”

“The calls were coming from a prison outside Detroit.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I know that prison. It’s where my uncle was held. Suddenly, everything clicks into place.

“Motherfucker,” I breathe, my mind racing. “It’s Ambrose. My uncle’s cellmate.”

The Princes exchange confused glances, but I barely notice. My world has narrowed to this single realization. Ambrose is The Saint .

“Victor, you’re a fucking genius. Thank you,” I say, my mind already speeding ahead. “We’ll talk more later.”

I end the call and turn to the men. Their faces mirror my own realization. We’ve all come to the same conclusion.

“Ambrose,” Killian growls, his fists clenching at his sides.

“That bastard’s been pulling the strings this whole time,” Atlas adds, his eyes flashing with anger.

Nico nods grimly. “He’s the one who’s been stalking you, threatening us. The fucking Saint.”

A cold determination settles over me. “We have to take him out. This ends now.”

Without another word, I walk toward the front door of the shop, my men falling in behind me. I can feel their presence at my back, solid and unwavering.

But before I can reach the door, there’s a deafening crash. Glass shatters, raining down as something comes hurtling through the window. It rolls across the floor, metal clanking against the tiles.

My heart stops as I realize what it is, but there’s no time to react.

A massive bang erupts, followed by a blinding flash of light that sears my retinas.