Page 127 of Corrupt

The words settled heavy in my chest. Not because they were new, but because they were true. Rank didn’t follow through the gates. Reputation didn’t mean shit if the wrong man decided you were a message.

Ghost straightened and lifted his tray. “Better watch yourself.” He stepped around the table and dipped close enough for his rancid breath to seep into my ear. “Accidents happen in remand.”

A screw barked at him to move on. Ghost didn’t argue. He smiled and walked away. I kept my face blank. Kept eating. Breathing. As if nothing had shifted. But something cold and exact slid into place behind my ribs.

This hadn’t been chance.

It hadn’t been bad luck.

And it sure as fuck hadn’t been timing.

Cormac sending me to that lockup when he did. The drop being clean except for the one thing with my name all over it. My prints. Pretty Poison was tied to no one else but me. Not by what they found. By what they expected to. That’s the kicker. The trick. I thought I’d been clever. Turns out, not so much.

Now Kyan was pinned on me. Cause suddenly, I was the only body in that warehouse in Battersea. And I knew who Tyler would back when asked.

Sure, I’d clocked Cormac’s hand in it straight away. Paranoia. Damage control. A test gone wrong. That part made sense. Funny thing was, it hadn’t even needed to be there to land me in here. The rest had been filled in after the facts.

But this?

This wasn’t just Cormac.

“You should know him in your line of work.”

Someone else had been steering the whole thing. Someone with reach. With patience. With enough pull to land me exactly where Ghost could get to me. Someone who didn’t just want me off the streets. They wanted me dismantled.

Piece by piece.

Power like that didn’t move in fists. It moved like leverage.

And I’d given them mine the moment I let myself want Tristan Hale-Fitzroy.

Pretty Poison Continues with

Claim (Pretty Poison Book 3)