Goldsin (The Chrysophilist Trilogy Book 1)

by Aveline Knight

Wolfsbane. Such a delicate flower for something so lethal. It took me weeks to learn every aspect of the plant—how much to use, how long it would take for the poison to start to work, and how untraceable it is.

At the end of the day, attention to detail is everything when it comes to murder.

Eleanora, my best friend, was right: give men a shallow version of yourself, and they’ll become enslaved to it.

The loathing I feel for him slips between the cracks in my mask as I watch him struggle. His role in the Inferno Consortium wasn’t what made me want to draw his fate for him. He’s done something far more personal. Vincent took his role in the Inferno Consortium, and the power that came with it, and used it against my mother. He humiliated her, alongside other members, at Lucian Harrow’s exclusive parties.

Lucian is the leader of the Inferno Consortium, and his gatherings allow powerful men to indulge in their darkest fantasies while talking business, with no regard for the women they use and abuse. My mother was one of those women.

“Wh-what is happening?”

“Karma, Vincent.” I lean closer to him as his breathing becomes labored. “It always finds a way of catching up with us in the end.”

“Y-you could’ve killed me . . . any other way,” he chokes out between gasps for air. “And you chose the weakest way?” “I didn’t choose the weakest way, Vincent. No—I wanted you to feel the slow burn of betrayal, just as my mother did when you took part in using her.”

He lies there dead, and I stand over him, ticking his name off my list.

Adrian’s always been stoic. As the eldest Harrow brother, he was taught to be like this, in stark contrast to his younger brother Julian’s nonchalant ways.

“Golden one!” The nickname the Inferno Consortium gave me scratches down my skin as the woman’s eyes do the same, appraising the way I look. “Your dress is simply divine.” They’ve called me that since I can remember. No one calls me by my given name except Valentine, Adrian, and Julian. Although Julian hasn’t really called me anything for a while. Whenever I hear those two words, they make me feel dirty, like a pet for them to toss around. No one else has a nickname in the Inferno Consortium but me.

My gaze drifts across the room to where Julian stands. His torturous blue eyes are already fixed on me. I can’t decide if it’s how unreachable he looks between the laughter and chatter of others, or if it’s the way only his attention can scorch my insides, that truly feels torturous.

“Dull” seems like the correct word coming from Adrian. Our relationship was dull. His love for me was dull. And the sex . . . Actually, “dull” seems too exciting a word.

“Tell me,” Adrian continues, “what do you make of all this? The wealth, the power, the constant maneuvering for position.” What does he know that I don’t? “Life is a game, Adrian.” I maintain an unwavering gaze. “And we’re simply playing our part.” His eyes flick back and forth between mine before he raises his glass in a silent toast. “May the best player win.” “May the best player win.”

It suits her better, being wild and untamed.

Ten years of ignoring her and it’s taken only one second of her ignoring me for me to lose it.

If the dickhead talks about her ass so carelessly one more time, I’ll make sure he’s sitting front-row while I make every inch of her mine.

“Come on, Julian. You think she’d ever want to fuck someone like you?” He peeks at me before adding, “She’s out of your league, and you know it.”

“Is that a cha...

“Take it however you want.” He returns his gaze to her. “Just remember who she belongs to.” “Belonged to, brother. Now she’s mine to take.”

The last thing I want is to follow his order. But my gaze returns to my mother. Her delicate features are in stark contrast to the darkness we’re forced to live in. She’s my anchor, and I will do whatever it takes to protect her.

For my mother’s sake, I have to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Even if that means diving headfirst into the darkness that is Lucian’s world.

She’s attractive, sure. A pretty face. Any man’s dream. But when everything’s this perfect, it becomes boring. Nightmares have depth to them. Nightmares keep you on your toes—a fire that never stops sizzling. She’s none of these things. She’s just Lucian’s task.

She looks just like she did the night she straddled my hips. But I didn’t keep her from leaving then. I was too immature to know I had to trap my prey before sinking my teeth into it. But now . . . All bets are off. You’re mine now, golden one.

I can take a life, but can I stop it from taking mine?

Ink swirls on his arms too, up to his neck, as if he’s made of the very essence of darkness.

The day he started ignoring me I wore red. Like the blood that seeped out of the cracks he made in my heart.

“You’re right.” Julian’s hushed words slither out like needles to the skin. His expression is impossible to read. “I don’t give a fuck about you. Never have and never will. Yet I can’t help but wonder which pretty little mask you’re hiding behind.”

Before I can react, Julian reaches out and gently wipes away the droplet with his fingertip. He holds it up between us, clearly displaying the crimson stain, before doing something that sends a bolt of shock through my entire body. He licks the blood off his finger. His gaze doesn’t leave mine the whole time.

“Julian! What are you doing?”

“Interesting,” he says, unfazed by my reaction. “It doesn’t taste like yours.”

“Wh-what⁠—?”

“Your little secret,” he whispers, his voice taking on a dark, dangerous edge. “I’m going to find out what i...

Every time I walk past them I’m overcome with the thought that sometimes the pain of losing people is worth it for the memories you have with them.

Her fears, hopes, and dreams are all faded ink now. This is all that’s left of her. I clutch the diary tighter, my knuckles turning white. This, right here, is my mission. My purpose. I was born from the ashes of my mother’s suffering. The least I can do is avenge her name.

Now, all I have to do is retaliate. For her, for myself, and for every other victim of these monsters.

because in a world like ours, the masks we choose to wear say more about our character than we’d like.

I guess that’s why I dress to catch the eye. I don’t want to cower away like they expect me to. I’m the odd one out, but that doesn’t mean I need to play the part.

I shouldn’t have hoped for a viper to be nonvenomous. The Inferno Consortium takes and takes, leaving a shell

Tonight I’ll go to the party. Tonight I’ll find out whatever secret Aurelia is hiding. Tonight I’ll play with her. Tonight . . . She’ll be mine.

“The world doesn’t leave any door open for you. You’ve got to break yourself in.”

“What should I call you then? The orphan? The motherless bitch? Or I could call you what some of my father’s guards call you. Wasted rat’s cum.”

“I may be the daughter of a whore,” she breathes, low and thunderous, “but at least I’m no son of a merciless killer who would watch you die before his empire.” Her voice is low but harsh enough to cut. “I may be motherless, but so are you, by your mother’s choice.” She stands on her toes, close enough for me to taste her words. “I may be wasted rat’s cum, but I live among you.” She smiles. “Now tell me, how fucking beneath you am I really?” “Not even close enough for what I want.”

Whatever pushed her to kill DeMarco had better be worth it. Because she’s five steps to hell. The devil’s right behind her. And like fuck will I let her go through this alone.

“I hate you, Julian Harrow.” “That’s too much of a compliment even for you, golden one.”

“Now, stop. Staring. At. Me,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think so,” he growls in my ear. “You were made to be watched by me.”

Across the room we watch each other. Taste each other through other people.

How fucked-up am I, to be fantasizing about my ex-boyfriend’s brother’s touch while getting fingered by said ex-boyfriend? I suck in a sharp gasp. Too fucked-up. A lost cause. A moan threatens to escape as I feel the intrusion of Adrian’s finger. My body tenses. I’m so close. So deliciously close⁠— A pair of hands pulls me away. “What the fuck!” Adrian yells as I’m yanked from his grasp. “Shh,” a familiar voice whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “If you come, it’ll be on my fingers, not my brother’s.”

“Should we tell my brother this was all for me?” He drags his finger over my drenched underwear.