Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Mon, 02 Oct 2023 05:16:45 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 Beasts (Depraved Sinners #4.5) Read Online Sheridan Anne http://www.wownovels.com/beasts-depraved-sinners-4-5-read-online-sheridan-anne Mon, 02 Oct 2023 05:16:45 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/beasts-depraved-sinners-4-5-read-online-sheridan-anne Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Novella Authors: Sheridan Anne Series: Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)

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Rain, rain go away.
Naive rivals I will slay.
Touch what’s theirs and they will play.
A shallow grave you will lay.

Standing at the top of the DeAngelis empire isn’t as glamorous as it sounds.

Sure, it comes with the kind of power one could only ever dream of, and having three men to lavish me with undeniable pleasure is the greatest perk of all. But where there’s power, there’s pain, and many rivals have died at my feet while learning that lesson.

But this time it’s different. This time, they’ve crossed a line.
When an enemy comes for my power, they lose their life.
But when an enemy touches what’s mine, they better fucking run.

Depraved Sinners is a New Adult, Dark, Reverse Harem, Contemporary Romance series. It contains explicit sexual content, graphic violence, drug abuse, and coarse language. It is recommended for mature readers.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

The heavy thumping of Levi’s drums boom through my chest, reverberating off the freaking walls and making me gasp as my eyes spring open.

Fucking Levi.

I swear to all that’s holy. This man lives to torture me, but damn, when he sits at his drums, his tight muscles rolling with each strike, his body layered with the slightest sheen of sweat, that’s my favorite kind of torture.

But nothing beats when he takes me that way. When his strong knee bounces as he hits the bass and my body is propelled upward only to slam back down on that thick cock.

Holy hell.

The thought alone has my hand reaching down between the sheets and skimming across my waist, trailing all the way down until I reach the promised land. My eyes flutter with anticipation as my fingers brush over my clit. A soft groan slips from between my lips as Levi’s strong body plays on repeat in my head like the most delicious montage.

No matter how much I have of them, I will never get enough.

As Levi continues to boom against his drums, my pace picks up, matching his tempo as my fingers delve deeper, pushing inside of me, my pussy clenching around them. My eyes roll and a desperate pant slips from my lips, so ready for that release.

My thumb stretches back to my clit, pressing down and rolling tight circles as my back arches off the bed. My other hand grips my breast, firmly squeezing as I roll my nipple between my fingers, electricity shooting through me and dipping low to my core.

I feel that familiar pull within me, like a burning coil quickly winding and ready to spring, forcing a low groan from deep in my chest. Stars begin dancing in my eyes and then—

“Oh God, YES!” I cry, my every train of thought slipping away, replaced with nothing but pure elation as my orgasm builds stronger by the second. I clench my eyes, the wild, raw need quickly pulsing through my veins, and then finally, just as it bursts through the surface, completely overwhelming my senses—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“FUUUUUUUCK,” I groan, my morning alarm sounding through my room and snapping me out of my blazing high like a bucket of iced water being tipped right over my head. “No, no, no.”

Scrambling across my bed, I shut off my alarm before flopping heavily back to my mattress, disappointment weighing on my chest. Fuck, just my luck to get clam-jammed by a freaking alarm. I mean, I know it wasn’t going to be the same kind of explosive orgasm I get with Roman, Levi, or Marcus, but damn, it would have at least tide me over until lunch.

Devastation pulses through my veins like a lethal dose of poison, and just as I go to throw the blanket off me, a shadow across my room draws my attention, halting my movements. “Oh, Empress,” Roman drawls, a deep pain in his rich tone. “Don’t give up now. You were just getting to the good part.”

My eyes widen just a fraction. “How long have you been standing there?”

His eyes flame with unfiltered desire, and that need slams back through my veins, consuming my every thought. “Long enough to know that if you don’t finish what you started, we’re both going to be spending the day in pain.”

A grin pulls at the corner of my lips as I sit up just enough for the blanket to fall down to my waist, showing off the sharp peaks of my nipples. His dark gaze lingers on my hungry body. “I mean, now that you’re here, it would only be right if you helped me across the finish line.”

Roman groans deep in his chest and is across the room in a matter of seconds, his wide strides eating up the distance between us with fierce desperation. His hand works the buckle of his belt, and by the time his other arm scoops around my waist and hauls me up off the bed, his straining cock is already freed.

My back hits the wall before a gasp can even fly through my lips, and he buries his cock deep inside my slick core. My legs lock around his waist as I clutch the back of his shoulders, holding on for dear life, the ruined orgasm now long forgotten. My nails dig into his tanned skin, little half-moons now decorating his shoulders, but goddamn it, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Roman plunges deep into me, his skilled hips driving forward and stretching my walls wide around him, making my eyes roll, but nothing is better than his heated groan against my neck.

Fuck, that gets me off harder than anything else known to man. And when it’s all three of them, just the sound of their need for me is enough to have me exploding into a million shattered pieces and seeing stars.

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Maniacs (Depraved Sinners #4) Read Online Sheridan Anne http://www.wownovels.com/maniacs-depraved-sinners-4-read-online-sheridan-anne Sun, 01 May 2022 12:45:52 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/maniacs-depraved-sinners-4-read-online-sheridan-anne Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Biker, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, MC, Romance Authors: Sheridan Anne Series: Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 1
Estimated words: 138191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Maniacs (Depraved Sinners #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Sheridan Anne
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B09R4NS8NG
Book Information:
It’s raining, it’s pouring. My three kings I’m mourning. Devil to wed. I think they’re dead. This phoenix will rise come morning. They’re dead. I feel it right down in the bottom of my soul. They were snatched away like trophies in the night and slaughtered before my very eyes. Those three gunshots will forever ring through my mind, tormenting every waking minute of my life. BANG! BANG! BANG! Roman. Levi. Marcus. The true leaders of the DeAngelis family and the rulers of my heart. I will avenge them. I will tear Giovanni limb from limb if that’s what it takes. All I know is that I won’t stop until it’s done. Giovanni DeAngelis will die, and when he does, it’ll be me who claims his throne. ****Depraved Sinners is a New Adult, Dark, Reverse Harem, Contemporary Romance series. It contains explicit sexual content, sexual abuse, graphic violence, drug abuse, and coarse language. It is recommended for mature readers. Depraved Sinners is a four-book series.
Books in Series:	Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
Books by Author:	Sheridan Anne

1

They’re dead. They’re fucking dead.

That manic look in Giovanni’s eyes as he ran his blade through his sons’ stomachs will forever haunt me. The way they fell to the grass, the way life slowly faded from their dark eyes … fuck. The way Levi begged me not to look.

I whimper, the very thought tearing me apart from the inside out.

How could I not look? How could I have possibly turned away? The three of them held my heart in the palm of their strong, calloused hands, and in one devastating moment in time, they were stolen from me.

My heart aches. I’ve never felt torment like this before.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

The sound of the three gunshots echo through my mind, and my body flinches with each one. It’s agonizing. It’s as though I can feel the bullets piercing through their bodies and shattering what little was left of my soul.

There’s nothing left of me now. Not without them.

Giovanni is a fucking monster. He won, just as he always said that he would.

The boys warned me, but I refused to listen. They said that he would take everything, said that he would destroy what was good in the world and that he wouldn’t stop until every knee was dropped before him. I never thought it was them he would take. All this time, I saw myself as his target, truly believing that he would destroy me in order to destroy them.

I believed we could survive. I trusted the three of them would come through. They were supposed to be invincible. They were supposed to be my rocks, my three devils on the coldest nights.

That’s all over now, and I have nothing left but the memories that haunt my mind and the scars left behind on my body. How am I ever supposed to be alright? How am I supposed to move on from this?

Tears stream down my face, and I turn my head into the dreadlocked dude’s chest, his arms caging around me as he tears off into the night on his motorbike, the convoy of SUVs speeding behind us.

Wind whips through my hair and smears my tears all over my face, but I barely notice it. I’m so numb. Numb to the world. Numb to the fresh hell wreaking havoc over my heart. Numb to … everything.

It’s barely been a few minutes since hearing those gunshots ring through the night, and if I dared to look up over this guy’s shoulder, I’d still see the DeAngelis mansion fading in the distance. I’d still be able to hear the fallen soldiers’ screams as they slowly died in the pools of blood gathering on the grass.

Roman. Levi. Marcus. No. I refuse to believe they’re gone. They can’t be gone. I barely got a chance to know them.

Perhaps this is karma … my own version of hell … punishment. I took a walk on the dark side; I sacrificed everything good about myself to indulge in that darkness, and now it’s caught up to me. Now I have to suffer the very real consequences. This is what I get for falling in love with the three DeAngelis devils.

I will never be the same.

I will never survive.

Tonight wasn’t supposed to go like this. I wasn’t supposed to get rescued by the woman who claims to be my mother, something I only learned a few short hours ago, and I sure as hell wasn’t supposed to see my three kings fall.

Tonight we were supposed to rise. Tonight we were supposed to be victorious.

Dreadlock Dude weaves through the streets and I cling to him as though he’s my last lifeline, only lifting my tear-stained face from his chest when his head whips to the right.

Gia’s SUV moves in beside us, and I watch as her tinted window lowers to expose her youthful face and her brows pinched with concern. She holds her hand up as her gaze scans over my face, completely void of emotion. A million questions filter through my mind, a million thoughts and suspicions, but then those three gunshots sound inside my head, and every last thought is replaced with nothing but a hollow ache.

All too quickly, her heavy stare flicks away as she takes in the man I cling to. “Pull over up here,” she shouts through the open window.

Dreadlock Dude nods, and without sparing me a second look, Gia speeds off in front of us before he even gets a proper chance to respond. He hits the gas, taking off after her at a million miles an hour as nerves fill my veins.

I swallow hard. I’m grateful that she was there to save me just in the nick of time, but how the hell did she know I was in trouble? Had she been watching us? Did she know that the boys needed her help just as much as I did, only to be left defenseless and bleeding out on the ground? I know this is a dark world and everybody only looks out for themselves, but surely she isn’t so cold-hearted as to leave them behind like that, leave them barely grasping onto life, especially considering that she knows how I feel about them.

Gia Moretti is nothing but a stranger to me, but she’s a stranger who claims to have watched over me my entire life with my best interests at heart. I’m damn sure that she had some fucked-up intel, considering she truly believed I was better off living with my father, and that I had a life any child would dream of. So yeah, she may have been checking up on me every now and then, but she never cared to dig deeper than the surface, and because of that, I can’t trust her. You know, apart from the fact that she’s the DeAngelis family’s number one competition, their greatest enemy. I mean, if that’s not the biggest red flag I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is.

Who knows, maybe this was all some ploy to separate us, to get something from the boys that they couldn’t live without. She knows how they care for me, how they’d walk through the hottest pits of hell just to keep me safe. Shit, maybe I’m not even her daughter at all.

The thought has an unladylike scoff pulling from deep in my chest, and the moment the sound passes my lips, Dreadlock Dude pulls back and drops his gaze to mine. “You good?” he questions, his dark eyes narrowed, looking like two deep pits of nothingness.

I slap a grin across my face, my eyes filled with venom. “Peachy,” I spit, watching the way he watches me back. It’s almost as though he’s trying to decide if he’s going to make my life a living hell or if he’ll take pity on the sad, broken girl.

His jaw tightens and he holds my stare for a moment longer before following Gia’s SUV off the side of the road. Dirt spits up under her tires as she hits the brakes, and I clench my eyes as that cloud of dust smacks me in the face. The motorbike comes to a stop behind the SUV, and I peer through the dirt cloud, wondering what the hell is about to happen.

Dreadlock Dude presses his hand to his ear as his gaze settles on the back window of Gia’s SUV, and I realize that she’s giving him instructions. He gives a firm nod, and before I can ask what’s going on, his strong arms scoop under my ass and he hauls me off his bike.

“Wha … What are you doing?” I rush out as panic tears through me. I cling to him, my gaze wide as I frantically search around. Is he going to ditch me here? Put a bullet through my head and leave me for the bears? Shit, if they were just going to kill me all along, I would have preferred to stay with the boys. At least that way I could have died in their arms with their sweet words telling me that it was all going to be okay.

The guy doesn’t respond, and as he starts to move away from the bike, my panic only escalates. “Let me go,” I spit, struggling against his hold, desperate to get back on my feet to give myself a chance to run. But where will I go? Back to the mansion to fight for the boys? I couldn’t, not without becoming fertilizer for the most pristine lawn in the country. Giovanni slaughtered his own sons, sons that I believed to be invincible. If he could do that to them, I can only imagine the shit he’d do to me.

If the boys weren’t already dead, they’d kill me themselves for even thinking of going back there. But I have to do something. I have to fight back and make this right, though nothing I do could ever bring them back to me. There has to be some other way.

I mean … Giovanni did mention that he wanted me to become his wife. The thought alone makes me sick, but it’s also a way to get close to him.

No. I can’t think like that. It’s a stupid plan that’s only going to end up backfiring on me just like everything else does.

What a fucking joke. Giovanni is delusional if he thinks there’s any way in hell that I would willingly marry him, sleep in his bed every night, bear him a child and grant him access to the Moretti empire. I’d sooner die than hand myself over like that. Besides, I couldn’t shit all over the boys’ memory by giving up now and becoming their father’s bride. I won’t do it, not even if it means bringing peace between the two families.

Dreadlock Dude holds on to me, caging me like a prisoner between his strong arms, and I resist the urge to claw his face. It would be a low blow. The guy truly does have a pretty face. He’s handsome with a sharp jaw and flawless dark skin. He’s older than me, maybe in his mid-thirties, and it’s clear from the way he holds himself that he’s seen some nasty shit, but that only adds to his allure. To ruin that would be a crime against humanity, but a shot to the junk wouldn’t go astray.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, baby,” he mutters as he starts walking toward the backseat of Gia’s SUV. “But you keep fighting me like that, and I’ll have no choice but to put you out. You feel me? And trust me, after sobbing all over my fucking shirt, I won’t even feel bad about it.”

Well, shit.

My gaze snaps up to his, and I fix him with a lethal stare, one the boys would be proud of. “Then put me down.”

Dreadlock Dude tightens his hold around my waist before releasing his other hand. “Gladly,” he mutters just as he reaches around me and tears open the back passenger door of the SUV. I barely get a chance to scream before he tosses me straight on the backseat and slams the door before my body even hits the leather seat.

The momentum of his throw sends me sprawling against the backseat, and before I can even right myself, Gia hits the gas and takes off at a million miles per hour. I scramble to keep myself upright as I fly across the backseat and dive for the handle of the door. I pull hard, desperate to free myself, but the door won’t budge.

“Don’t waste your energy,” Gia mutters, her dark eyes flicking to mine through the rearview mirror. “The doors are locked, and trust me when I say, you’re going to need your energy.”

Pressing my hands against the leather on either side of my thighs, I meet Gia’s stare, hating how much it resembles mine. “What do you want with me?” I demand, my jaw clenching as my fingers ball into fists against the leather, quickly realizing that there’s no point in trying to run. The DeAngelis family are scary as shit, but the fact that they were all scared of the Moretti family tells me exactly what I need to know—dealing with the DeAngelis family was only a warm-up for what the Moretti family is capable of.

“I thought I made myself quite clear when we met in my warehouse this afternoon,” she says, her gaze falling away to focus on the road ahead as I hear the roar of the motorbike falling back into position behind us. “You, Shayne, are the heir to the Moretti empire, and you will take my place when the time comes.”

I shake my head, my brows pinching with confusion. “I know all of this,” I spit, my frustration getting the best of me as too many questions fly through my mind. “I just … you said that I could stay with the boys. You said I still had time.”

“The deal was that you could stay with the three DeAngelis sons while they could guarantee your safety. They’re dead now. They failed you, so I was left with no choice but to come save you before Giovanni took you as his own. You are the sole heir to my family, my empire, and I cannot risk you slipping back into Giovanni’s grasp.”

A lump forms in my throat as silent tears stream down my face. “They’re not dead,” I murmur, my voice lowering to a whisper. “They can’t be dead.”

Gia’s sigh fills the car as her gaze slices back up to the small mirror. “You saw what Giovanni did. You heard the gunshots. You’re only hurting yourself by holding on to the hope that they could have survived. I’ve been in this world a long time, Shayne. The likelihood of those boys surviving … it’s not possible. It’s best you move on now. A clean cut.”

“A clean cut?” I scoff. “Giovanni murdered them right in front of my eyes. I was in love with them. There’s no ‘clean cut’ about it.”

“It was just business, Shayne. Every mafia family experiences losses like this. It’s just part of the game.”

“This wasn’t business,” I spit. “It was personal. He killed them just to get them out of the way, so he could have me for himself. You know that, right? He’s planning on marrying me to gain access to your family. He killed them to get to you. That’s not business.”

Gia shakes her head as the convoy of SUVs finally catches up to us and gets in formation, leaving Gia driving directly between them all with Dreadlock Dude on his motorbike up ahead. “I know it’s hard for you to understand. You haven’t been in this world long enough for the loss to bounce off you yet, but soon enough you’ll see that it was a necessary move in a war that’s been going on long before your time.”

My eyes bug out of my head, the lump getting caught in my throat again. “A necessary move?” I splutter, unable to make sense of why she would say something like that.

“Yes,” she explains. “Giovanni’s sons were going to die at some point. Whether by their father’s hand or my own.”

“Yours?” I spit, gawking at her through the small mirror. “What the fuck? Why would you even say that?”

Gia turns onto the highway and hits the gas a little harder before letting out a heavy breath. “In the warehouse this afternoon, I saw the way they loved you. It was real and ran deep, something many of us never get the chance to experience, let alone to be lucky enough to experience it from three men like that,” Gia says, keeping her lethal gaze locked on the road before her. “When the time came for me to bring you home, they were never going to let you go. I would have had no choice but to eliminate them, which is a shame because given the time, they would have been great leaders for the DeAngelis family. They would have endured hell to see their family rise to greatness, but now they will never get the chance.”

Gia pauses for a minute as my gaze falls into my lap, the fight quickly leaving my body.

“This was always how it was going to be. You were always meant to be with me,” she explains. “I tried to give you time. I wanted you to have that little bit of joy in your life before you started training to rule my empire. I’m not going to lie, I thought I could give you a little extra time, but that simply wasn’t in the cards.”

My gaze snaps back up. “In the cards?” I scoff, a sick laughter bubbling up my throat. “Your timing was all a little too convenient, wasn’t it? You just happen to come screeching down the driveway the moment I ran.”

Gia’s eyes come back to mine, quickly becoming cold and hard, and if I weren’t so broken and consumed by grief, I might have been smart enough to bite my tongue. “What are you suggesting, Shayne?”

Silence surrounds me, and as I stare back at her, I wonder if I have what it takes to accuse the most lethal woman on the planet of being a shady fuck, but as those three gunshots ring inside my head, I realize that I simply don’t give a shit, not anymore. “You were there the whole time. You knew about the DeAngelis family meeting, and you made a point to be there to see who would walk out of it alive. You knew Giovanni was coming, you knew he was bringing his army, and you sat back and watched it like primetime entertainment. He murdered the three loves of my life, and YOU DID NOTHING!” I scream, my throat immediately going raw as the grief takes my heart and crushes it.

Tears stream down my face, dropping onto the top of my shirt and soaking the soft material. “You could have saved them,” I murmur, my voice breaking with the heaviness of each word, “and the fact that you didn’t even try, just sat and watched as they were slaughtered only goes to prove what kind of person you really are. I’m better off without you. I want absolutely nothing to do with you or your bullshit family.”

Gia watches me carefully, her expression hard and still like a mask, holding back her true emotions. Not a word is said, and the silence grows heavier with each passing second until she finally looks back at the road before her. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” she tells me, her voice thick with authority. “You’re going to live with me, you’re going to train with me, and then you’re going to become me. Those are your only options. I will give you tonight to grieve and as of tomorrow, the DeAngelis brothers will cease to exist in your mind. You are my daughter, and because of that, I am showing a kindness that I have never shown anyone before, but cross me, Shayne Moretti, and you will understand how it is that I became the head of this family. Blood doesn’t always run thicker than water, and you are going to have to earn your place in my family. Is that understood?”

My jaw clenches as I stare back at the woman who looks so much like me. “I want Giovanni dead. I want to tear his eyeballs out of his head with my bare hands and listen to his screams. I want to strangle him, slice my dagger across his throat and rip his organs from his body one by one. I want to leave his heart for last just so I can feel it beating in my hand, and only then will I crush it for his sons and feed the pieces to their wolves. Give me that, and I will do or be whatever the fuck you want.”

Gia’s eyes come back to mine through the mirror, narrowed and full of thought. She considers me for a moment before silently nodding and turning her gaze back to the road. “Perhaps I’ve underestimated you,” she murmurs. “Is that all you want?”

I shake my head. “I want the wolves, Dill and Doe, and Giovanni’s newborn son. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. Besides,” I say, narrowing my gaze as I lower my tone, letting her taste the venom I spit at her. “It’s the least you can do.”

“Okay,” she says after a long beat, letting my insult bounce right off her shoulders. “The wolves are yours, as for the remaining DeAngelis heir, that child is not my problem, nor do I care for it.”

“I didn’t ask for it to be your problem,” I throw back at her. “I will raise him as my own if I have to. Either way, I intend to keep my promise. So, make it happen, or watch me destroy everything that you’ve built the same way you stood back and watched Roman, Levi, and Marcus get slaughtered.”

And with that, I turn my gaze out the window, ignoring the way her eyes narrow to tight slits, realizing that demanding my cooperation isn’t going to be nearly as easy as she thought.

2

The rest of the drive is silent and I hate it. While I’d give anything to keep from picturing the way the long, thin blade speared through their stomachs and drenched the lawn in blood, I’d also give anything not to be stuck in this awkward silence with my mother, especially after threatening to tear her world to pieces. That probably wasn’t my finest moment, but she’s kidding herself if she expects me to drop to my knees and beg to serve as her loyal yes man.

Gia motherfucking Moretti.

What the hell am I even supposed to refer to her as? Mommy? Mother? Birth giver? Egg donor? Somehow, I feel that she won’t appreciate the terms incubator or power-hungry bitch, so I guess I’ll just stick with Gia for now.

We’ve been driving for well over an hour, and not a single second has passed where a tear hasn’t streaked down my face. I can’t stop remembering it. Hell, at this point, I don’t even give a shit what happens to me. Gia can have me for all I care because nothing matters now. They’re gone and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Sure, getting revenge is going to be the only reason I wake up every morning, but after that, what’s left for me in this world?

Gia hasn’t spoken a word about my bargain, and I really don’t know her well enough to know if she’ll come through on that or not. She doesn’t strike me as the type to make deals with desperate people, especially deals that could see a war, but she’d be a fool to refuse me. Whether I get revenge with her at my side or by myself, it’s still going to happen. Not to mention, she’s sick. She told me in the old warehouse that she has a year to live, maybe two, and while waiting two years to tear Giovanni’s throat from his body is going to test me like never before, it would also be really nice if I could do it with the Moretti army at my back … the army that is apparently going to be mine.

It would be the sweetest day, watching as Giovanni scrambles to hang on to life. Running left to right only to realize that he’s cornered like a wicked game of cat and mouse. Then watching the color drain from his face as the panic sets in, realizing that his day has finally come, at my hands no less. The thought is what’s going to keep me breathing. I just hope Gia isn’t going to make me wait.

But if she says no … fuck. That’s one hell of a civil war that she doesn’t want knocking on her door.

The vile things I want to do to that man … I hope I can do justice for the boys, make them proud one last time. But will it ever be enough? Will murdering him in the most brutal, savage way make up for the horrors the boys suffered at his hands for all those years, make up for the heartache and pain that he caused? No, probably not, but I can try.

Gia makes a few turns through an expensive residential area, and I know that I should be paying attention to each one of the turns, but it’s like a puzzle, and in this state, there’s no way I’ll be able to remember how to get out of here. It’s a gated community and it’s private as fuck. It’s the kind of area people can’t accidentally drive by and claim they got lost, to be driving these streets and have gotten this far would mean that you were here with a purpose. It’s the best kind of security system. I’m sure every resident around here knows all their neighbors’ cars and exactly who lives in each home, how many people they have on staff, and the exact hours they expect them to come and go. There are no surprises here. I bet all of the other residents are just as powerful and dangerous as Gia, each one of them desperate for privacy.

We weave through the roads lined with massive homes fortified by iron gates, armed guards, and security systems. Each sitting at the end of a long driveway looking menacing in their own right. I gape at the rows of towering houses in disbelief. Who in the hell lives here?

The SUV rolls to a stop at the top of a hill, and Dreadlock Dude pulls his bike over to hash in a gate code. The house is just as big as the gothic prison meant to keep the boys at bay. But, unlike the antique castle hiding amid a forest, this place looks brand spanking new, sitting atop the hill like a modern citadel on full display.

The DeAngelis castle is likely the remnants of what once housed royalty hundreds of years ago. But even in the dead of night, it’s easy to see this beauty was built solely to fit Gia’s high standards of living. It’s a charming, modern, tri-level home, but I’ve learned that in this world, what you see on the outside isn’t always what you get. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had her own villainous lair built beneath the home, just as the boys had done to the castle.

Fuck … the boys.

I let out a heavy sigh, and as the massive iron gate draws back, Gia glances up at me through the small mirror. “Welcome to my home, Shayne,” she says, gently hitting the gas and following Dreadlock Dude through the gate. The rest of the SUVs enter behind us and take off around the side of the property. “Your home.”

Swallowing hard, I grow restless in the backseat.

My home? Who’s she kidding? I already have a home with the boys, but I suppose that home no longer exists.

“I have business to attend,” Gia continues as she eases up the long driveway and follows the road around the basin of a stunning marble fountain. “I wasn’t expecting to have you here quite so soon. Had I known, I would have carved out some time to show you around and get you settled in.”

My brows furrow, not really giving a flying fuck about her need to coddle me to make her feel better for the twenty-two years of abandonment. “Zeke will show you to your room,” she continues. “Feel free to—”

“Zeke?” I cut in, meeting her stare through the mirror as she brings the SUV to a stop.

Gia gestures toward Dreadlock Dude, who kills his engine and turns to survey the SUV, waiting for his instructions. Ahhhh, so he has a name. Zeke. I like it. It suits him. I lift my gaze back to the mirror. “You’re fucking him, right?”

Gia swivels in the driver’s seat and turns to look back at me, her eyes widening as she stares at me in stunned silence.

“What?” I spit, a scowl sitting on my lips. “Are you horrified by how obvious it is or the audacity for me to dare ask? Because honestly, you were a dick when asking me about the boys, so I figured this wasn’t exactly off limits.”

Gia clenches her jaw, her eyes narrowing just a little as she considers how she wants to tackle this. “Zeke and I have a professional relationship, not that that is any of your business. Occasionally I lean on him when I need …”

“To fuck?” I supply, my brow arched high as I peer out the windshield at the mountain of a man staring back at us through the tinted glass. “I bet he fucks like a pornstar. He’s an ass man, isn’t he?”

Gia lets out a frustrated groan. “If you must know, yes. Zeke and I have a strange … relationship,” she admits. “But know that I am only sharing this information because you will be living with me and will no doubt see things that will make you wonder. He is there for me when I need it, and I for him. However, we are not an … item. Nor will we ever be. He is free to sleep with whomever he pleases, just as I am.”

My lips twist into a hard line. “Why?” I grunt. “That’s fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re clearly in love with the guy, and if he’s been hanging around, then obviously he’s down.”

Gia shakes her head and lets out a heavy breath before quickly gazing out the window at Zeke. “Keeping Zeke at an arm’s length is the only thing keeping a target off his back. You don’t get to be in my position without having to make sacrifices. I am sure that’s a lesson you are already beginning to learn. Besides, why would I do that to a man I loved? Why would I put his life in unnecessary danger just so I could have the right to hold his hand in public? Love is a fool’s game, Shayne, one that makes you vulnerable. It’s best to simply not fall in love at all.”

I hold her stare, pity filling my chest. “Sounds lonely.”

Her features harden, and I realize that for just a moment, I had forgotten who the hell I was talking to. “What do you want from me, Shayne? You want me to go and scream at the top of my lungs that I like to fuck the help? You want me to go and start a relationship with a guy who’s going to have to watch me die? No, thank you. I’d rather spare us all the heartache. Now, if I can trust that you are smart enough to keep this information to yourself, I’d like to go inside and prepare for my meeting.”

I hold my hands up. “Alright, fine. I’ll drop it.”

“Good,” she says, her eyes darkening. “What you’re asking of me, about Giovanni and his child. You must understand that is not something I take lightly. You’re asking me to put my family at risk for a vendetta.”

“Are you telling me no?” I question, my heart rate picking up as I prepare myself to bolt out of here.

“No,” she tells me. “I am not. I’m simply trying to say that a request like that will need some careful consideration. I will let you know my decision once it has been made.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Just know that we don’t have a deal unless you can come through for me. I don’t start training as your little protégée until Giovanni’s eyeballs are soaking in a jar up on my trophy shelf.”

A soft chuckle pulls from deep in Gia’s chest. “Remember your place, Shayne. You will commence training with me when I say you will start training. I am doing what I can to show you kindness and understanding, but that will only go so far. Keep pushing my patience and I guarantee you will not like the consequences.”

Without another word, Zeke appears at my side, pulling on the handle and letting the soft night’s breeze flow through the back of the SUV. “Come on,” he mutters, his eyes hard as he peers over the vehicle at his boss striding away, physically needing to put distance between us to keep from wrapping her hands around my throat.

Stepping out of the car, Zeke remains right at my side as he leads me up the staircase, so close that making a run for it isn’t even an option. His eyes focus solely on Gia up ahead, watching as she unlocks the front door and enters a security code. “What did you say to her?” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with that overprotective rasp that comes from a man deeply obsessed, kinda like how Marcus would do when defending my honor.

“Nothing,” I mutter, refusing to glance up and meet his eye. “We just had a little … mother-daughter chat. You know, getting to know each other a bit better.”

Zeke pauses, his hand snapping up to my elbow with a tight grip. He yanks me back, twisting me to force my stare up to him. “I’m not going to repeat myself,” he growls, his quick temper reminding me of Roman. “What did you say to her?”

I scoff, yanking my arm out of his tight grip. “You really are head over heels for your boss, aren’t you? Perhaps you should be up there with her, making her feel better, rather than out here making demands of the trash.”

He narrows his eyes, leaning into me. “What the hell do you know about it?”

“I know that she’s keeping you away when you’re clearly both in love with each other, and I know that you’re so much of a bitch to stand by and let her keep doing it. Deep down, it’s killing you, isn’t it? She’s dying and you could so easily swoop in and make her last days on earth the best days of her life, but she refuses you, refuses to put herself first because no matter what, her family will always come first.” I stare up at him, my brow arching. “Sound about right?”

His already lethal stare tightens, and if I were smart, I would have shut up the moment I stepped out of the SUV, but apparently, the grief consuming me is helping me realize that without the boys, I have absolutely nothing to lose.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he growls, the sound so low I have to wonder if I even hear it.

“Try me, asshole,” I spit, not forgetting the way he kidnapped me out of the DeAngelis mansion only a few hours ago, a crime he still hasn’t paid the price for. “What kind of man would stand back and watch the woman he loves die and not step in to show her just how good it can be?”

His jaw tightens, and I scoff before taking a small step back and continuing up the stairs. “Don’t bother showing me to my room,” I throw back over my shoulder, leaving him standing behind me, glaring at me as though he could kill me with nothing but his stare alone. “I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Storming up the rest of the stairs, I try to figure out how the hell I got stuck in this bullshit situation for the second time. What is it with all of these mafia families wanting me at their beck and call? I’m not made for this world, but the boys sure as fuck ensured that I’d survive in it. I’m not sure I can though, not without them.

My hand slams against the floor-to-ceiling front door, and the three gunshots immediately replay inside my head, making me flinch with each of them. I gasp for breath, trying to shake it off as I give the door a hard shove, sending it sailing open.

The lights are all off inside except for a few deeper in the home, and while every cell inside my body screams at me to start searching for a way out, I’m too exhausted to even care. But just as Gia said, tonight, I grieve, tomorrow I will rise like a fucking phoenix from the ashes.

Making my way deeper into the mansion, I pass through the wide-open foyer. A double staircase centers the room, one hugging the left side of the expansive room while the other curves up the right. It’s the most impressive set of stairs I’ve ever seen. This place is literally built for a queen. It’s insane, but Gia won’t catch me admitting that out loud.

I wonder if she expects this to be my home after she’s gone.

Assuming the bedrooms are upstairs, I step to the left set of stairs and grip the delicate black railing before making my way up. I barely reach the top before light spreads through the landing from an opening door. My eyes widen as Gia freezes in the doorway, her hand still on the doorknob. “Oh,” she says, as though she’s surprised to see me actually inside her home. “Where’s Zeke? He was to show you to your room.”

My gaze drops as I move up the final stair. “He and I don’t quite see eye to eye. We had a little falling out.”

Gia lets out a heavy breath before quickly glancing at her wrist and taking in the time. “Follow me.”

I trail behind her, wanting to keep my distance as she makes her way through the upstairs foyer. We step through an informal sitting area and Gia comes to a stop, glancing back at me. “Your room is just through there,” she says, holding up her hand toward the door in the furthest corner. “There’s a private bathroom that’s fully stocked with everything you should need. I wasn’t expecting you here quite so soon, so I haven’t stocked your closet yet. However, we look the same size. My staff shouldn’t have any trouble finding you something to wear. As for your belongings, if you have anything sentimental that you’d like for us to retrieve from any of the DeAngelis properties, just make a list and I can arrange a suitable time for my men to go and … collect them.”

It’s not hard to read between the lines on that one, but I nod anyway, appreciating the offer as there is one thing that I’ve left behind, one thing that would mean the world for me to have back—Marcus’ dagger that he gifted me the first night he came into my castle cell. The rest of it can all go to hell.

I move to walk past her when she continues. “I do not use this sitting area, so feel free to claim this as your own,” she says, scanning the room that’s bigger than my old apartment. “I want you to be comfortable here.”

I press my lips into a tight smile, really trying to find gratitude. This woman doesn’t have to take me in … well, I guess she kind of does, but either way, it’s bound to be weird for both of us. “Thank you,” I say, glancing away. “You don’t need to do all of this. I’m fine with just a bed to sleep in.”

“You are my daughter, Moretti blood—my blood—runs through your veins and giving you a roof over your head is the least I can do. Besides, starting first thing in the morning, you will commence your training. It’s not going to be easy. It will be brutal and test you in ways that not even those DeAngelis sons could have prepared you for. I do not take this lightly and neither should you,” she explains. “Now, go ahead and get yourself cleaned up. You have a big day tomorrow that will require enough sleep to make it through.”

With that, Gia walks away, and the moment she turns the corner, I let out a shaky breath.

Feeling too exposed out here in the open sitting area, I push through to my new bedroom, the millionth room I’ve had since all this bullshit started eight months ago. Though I’m not going to lie, this room is significantly nicer than the one I occupied down in the castle cells or in Giovanni’s desert dungeon. But at this point, what does it even matter? I could sleep in a dirty alleyway behind a dumpster and it wouldn’t change anything.

The boys are gone.

It hits me harder than I could have known, and as I pull off my bloodstained clothes and stumble toward the private bathroom, the heaving sobs consume me.

The boys are dead.

And I will never see them again.

3

BANG!

My eyes spring open and I fly out of bed, my puffy, sore eyes quickly scanning the room for a threat. Zeke stands in my open doorway, the rising sun barely peeking through my window and glistening against his flawless skin.

My heart thumps wildly as I take in his hard stare. No wonder my so-called mother has been using him as a playtoy. He’s got that sexy, alluring thing that the boys had, mixed with that hard edge in his eyes that warns you to keep your distance. He’s dangerous in every possible way, the perfect match for my mother.

“Training starts in ten minutes,” Zeke spits, not at all happy to see me, and hell, the feeling is mutual. “Don’t be late.”

With that, Zeke storms out of my bedroom, leaving the door open wide and my heart racing erratically in my chest. Fuck, I need to pull myself together. It’s one thing being in a situation like this and knowing the boys are coming for me, but I’m on my own now, and I have to make this work. This is going to be my only shot at getting close to Giovanni. Without Gia and her crew, I’m as fucked as can be.

I take short, calming breaths as the memories of last night come racing back to me like a haunting movie on replay inside my head. It hits me like a freight train and drops me to my knees, the weight of the boys’ deaths resting heavily on my shoulders, the grief too much for me to bear.

Grief claims me, and I struggle to suck in a breath. Gia expects me to move on today, to just get up out of bed as though they never mattered, as though I should share in her disdain for the boys. That’ll never happen, and she was a fool to even suggest it.

Last night, I spent an hour sitting in the shower as the hot water washed the boys’ blood from my skin and down the drain, and as I watched the last pieces I had of them vanish, I replayed their final moments in my mind over and over again. The pain in their eyes as they fell into the grass. The desperation in Levi’s voice when he begged me not to watch. I tossed and turned fitfully in a cold sweat, unable to fall asleep without those three gunshots startling me awake. I know it was real, yet every fiber in my body screams for them to walk through the door and tell me this was some sick joke. I mean, sure, Roman would have hated it, Levi would have rolled his eyes, and Marcus would have laughed until he made himself sick … but he would have made it up to me in a way that only Marcus could, and damn it, I would have forgiven him before I even came.

I can’t be without them. I can’t go on with this pain. I don’t know how to exist in this world without them now.

My head falls into my hands as long, painful moments pass by. I can’t break like this. I promised myself that come morning, I would rise like a phoenix, but it’s too hard. How am I supposed to get up and face the day knowing that they’re not here, knowing that I’ll never hold them again, never feel their touch or hear those sweet, whispered words?

Fuck.

I have to do this alone. I have to get up and train, I have to become stronger, fiercer, and wiser or I won’t stand a fucking chance. If I’m going to make Giovanni pay for what he did, then I have to survive this. I won’t have an endless number of chances. There will be only one, and when that time comes, I’m going to be ready.

That cold, hard knowledge pulls me to my feet, and I turn toward the private bathroom, drawing my hands across my face, drying my tears.

I won’t back down from this.

Giovanni DeAngelis fucked up when he set his sick, twisted games upon my men, and for that, he will face the firing squad. He pissed off the wrong bitch.

After stepping through to the bathroom, I quickly go through my morning routine. There are no training clothes in sight, but for some reason, I trust that Gia will have something prepared for me when I get down to the training room—wherever the hell that might be.

Knowing damn well that I’m pushing Zeke’s limit of ten minutes, I push my way out of my bedroom and saunter down the impressive staircase, finding Zeke standing at the bottom with a scowl on his face and his eyes piercing right through me. If looks could kill … goddamn.

His jaw tightens, and as he looks at me, there’s not a doubt in my mind that he can tell I’ve been crying again, and I instantly hate how weak that makes me feel, but I’ll own it. If those tears were for anyone apart from my three devils, then I’d happily stand here and allow him to call me a little bitch, but I won’t apologize for tears shed for them.

Zeke turns on his heel, his hands held behind his back. He doesn’t tell me to follow him, but the silent demand is there. Every bone and fiber in my body tells me to get the fuck out of here, knowing Gia Moretti’s definition of ‘training’ probably isn’t going to be rainbows and flowers. It’s going to be brutal, and it’s going to have me begging for freedom, but if she wants to turn me into a fucking warrior, then so be it. I’ll rise to the fucking occasion just as the boys would expect.

Following Zeke through the massive residence, we step through to an elevator. Tension rolls over my body the moment the door closes, locking us in. This motherfucker could end my life with his bare hands. The last thing I want is to be trapped in a small space with him, especially considering the lethal scowl stretched across his face.

A million comments about having his knickers in a twist try to fly out of my mouth, but I force myself to bite down on my tongue until I taste the coppery, metallic tang of blood. I doubt this dude is very forgiving and if I start off on the wrong foot with him, it’s only going to make my training that much harder.

The elevator takes us down to the basement and dread spears through me, my blood turning cold with the unknown. I haven’t had much luck when it comes to meeting new people and being invited for a stroll through their basements, yet when the elevator dings and the heavy metal door slides back to let in a rush of clinical light, my jaw goes slack, dropping open in surprise.

I step out of the elevator, staring around me in wonder. This place is done up like some kind of combat heaven, and if I were in a vampire hunter movie, this is the kind of place I’d want to train. The basement training level must be as wide as the actual house upstairs, and I’m surprised to find so many people down here.

Men are sparring, fighting hand-to-hand combat while the metallic clash of blades sound across the room. There’s a shooting range and a wall of training weapons, but what catches my attention is the pissed-off woman standing in the very center of the room, her glare piercing right through me.

I swallow hard, remembering her words from last night. You’re going to live with me, you’re going to train with me, and then you’re going to become me. I’m fucked.

“Prepare yourself, girl,” Zeke murmurs, his lips barely moving. “If you thought training with those DeAngelis scum was a nightmare, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

He steps away from me as though he didn’t just fill my veins with the heaviest kind of fear, his hands behind his back once again. Zeke strides across the training room, only stopping and turning when he reaches Gia’s side.

As I get closer, I watch the way Gia’s lips press into a hard line, her gaze falling down my body and taking in what little I wear. “You’re late,” she snaps. “My time is money and you’re wasting it.”

I don’t bother with a response and her stare hardens, her eyes filling with venom as I do nothing but stare back at her. I guess we’re doing things the hard way today, but I really don’t care either way. If she wants to beat the shit out of me under the disguise of training, then so be it, at least this way, I might feel something.

“You were told you would be training today,” she says, stepping toward me, her gaze dropping down my body again. “Why are you not prepared for your lessons?”

My eyes drop to take in my lack of shoes and the baggy tank I slept in that’s showing off a little too much side boob. “Oh, um, you see, when I was twelve, I never had some big, hairy dude break into my home and say, ‘You’re a wizard, Harry,’ so unfortunately, I don’t come equipped with the ability to manifest training gear.”

Her gaze drops away and a hint of embarrassment flashes through her eyes, realizing that perhaps the little oversight of having clothes ready for me may have been her own fault, despite her declaration of getting me everything that I could need.

“Right,” she says, her lips tight. “Get started with Zeke, and I will arrange for one of my guards to bring you something appropriate.”

My gaze snaps to Zeke’s body and I arch a brow. “Oh, you’re going to share your man with me, huh? I’ve been waiting to feel his body all over mine. Tell me the rules though, do I get to bite him?”

Gia’s face reddens with rage, and she places her hand on Zeke’s chest, stopping him from doing the exact thing that’s probably flashing in her own mind. She looks up at the beast of a man beside her, her eyes dark and angry. “Get the girl some clothes—a training crop, tights, and shoes,” she snaps before turning back to me and indicating the training mat to our left.

She walks toward it, each step filled with the kind of authority that makes me want to shrink back, but I don’t dare. Instead, I hold my head high and meet her right in the center of the mat. Then without even a breath of warning, her hands shoot out, one gripping onto my shoulder as the other slams a devastating blow right into my stomach. I double over in agony, but she’s not quite finished. Her leg waves out, connecting with the back of my feet and knocking me on my ass with a heavy thump.

Gia comes down over me, pressing a knee against my winded stomach and a hand flat against my sternum to keep me pinned. “This is my home, girl,” she seethes, her voice low and furious. “No matter how you feel about me, you will show respect. Is that understood?”

With a clenched jaw, my hand shoots up to her throat. Her eyes widen briefly, but before she gets a moment to react, I hook my legs around her waist and rip her off me. Gia’s back slams against the training mat, half of her body sprawled on top of mine, and like lightning, I scramble until I’m pinning her down.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” I spit back at her. “You brought me here. I didn’t ask to be here, nor do I want to be here. The only reason I haven’t stormed out the door is because you’re my only shot at getting revenge on Giovanni, but don’t get me wrong, with or without you, I’ll find a way,” I tell her, my heart racing faster by the second. “You are not entitled to my respect simply because this is your home, you need to earn that from me, and right now, you’re doing a really shitty job of it. I won’t fall in line simply because you tell me to. You were right yesterday, blood doesn’t always run thicker than water, and my loyalty to those three brothers will always come before everything else. No matter what.”

I push up off her, the rage and emotion pulsing through my veins as I take a step back and watch her get to her feet, all her men on standby, ready and willing to take me out if she were to ask. “You want to train me,” I continue, swallowing hard, “then train me, but do not use this as some kind of excuse to make a point. I will bite my tongue and reel in my attitude, but you’ve gotta drop the bullshit act as well.”

Gia studies me for a moment, her gaze narrowed. “I don’t think you’ve got a grasp on just how serious this is,” she tells me. “I’m not training you just so you can learn how to defend yourself, and I sure as hell don’t have you here as some idiotic way to claim you,” she says, stepping closer to me and lowering her voice. “I will fall. Whether it be in twelve months or twenty-four. I’m going to fall, and all of this is going to be thrust into your hands whether you want it or not. Looking at you now, I’m not exactly overcome with confidence. You’re weak and rely on your attitude to get by, and while it’s entertaining to watch you embarrass yourself, it’s going to get my men—our men—killed.”

Gia holds my stare as I step into her, my eyes narrowed and full of fire. The elevator dings in the distance, and I watch over her shoulder as Zeke steps out, his hands full of training clothes and a pair of Nikes. His eyes come to mine and immediately narrow, seeing the distinct tension between his boss and me.

I only have a moment to say what needs to be said before he gets close enough, and the moment fades, so I glance back at my mother, letting her hear the anger, grief, and torment that overwhelms me. “You want me to say what I have to say without the bullshit attitude, then I will,” I tell her, piling on the facts hard and thick. “Your first mistake, showing your true colors and standing by to allow Giovanni to murder the men that your daughter is in love with. Your second mistake was assuming that I’d willingly lead and protect the members of your family, knowing that you stood by and did nothing. You want me to stand at the head of your family with their best interests at heart, then you need to find a way to make things right because right now, there’s absolutely nothing stopping me from walking away the moment your heart stops beating.”

A pair of Nikes hits my chest so hard that I stumble away from Gia, my sharp gaze snapping up to Zeke. “Get dressed,” he spits, falling into Gia’s side, venom pooling in his eyes.

My hands close around the training clothes bunched with the shoes, and I tear them out of his grip. Stepping forward, I stop right at his side, my gaze lifting to his. “I’m really looking forward to the day she dies and you become my number one yes man,” I murmur. “If I were you, I’d be doing everything in my power to make sure that I’m not the asshole left scrubbing toilets day in and day out. Be careful, I’m not the bitch you want to fuck with.”

With that, I tighten my hold on my training clothes and walk across the room, my heart thundering in my chest.

4

“Again,” Gia snaps before my back has even hit the training mat.

I drop to the ground with a hard thud, a whoosh of breath racing from my lungs as I groan in pain. We’ve been going at this for three hours and my body is exhausted. A light sweat coats my skin as my lungs scream for oxygen.

She stands by, watching as Zeke kicks my ass over and over again, demanding me to be better, and damn it, he doesn’t hold back, though I didn’t expect anything different. To be honest, had he gone easy on me, I’d never have been able to respect him. The boys never went easy on me in training, they never held back, and I was grateful for it, but it’s clear from how brutal Zeke is, they trained me with care, with love. Not Zeke. He simply doesn’t give a shit if I were to get hurt.

Groaning, I roll onto my stomach, trying to get my hands and knees under me, only when I’m too slow, Zeke’s foot sweeps out under my midsection, kicking my knees back out and watching as my body drops to the mat with a loud oomph.

“Get up,” he spits, irritated to be kept waiting.

My cheeks blow out with a heavy breath as I clench my jaw, desperately trying to reel in my attitude, but the fucker is pushing my limits, and after watching the boys die last night, I can’t be blamed for the shit I do.

Zeke stands over me with his arms crossed like the asshole he is, and I quickly get back to my hands and knees, going faster to avoid the wrath of his temper. Only this time, when I pull myself just a little higher, I let my hand shoot out, connecting hard with his junk.

The fucker doesn’t even flinch as my knuckles slam against something hard, so fucking hard it feels like metal.

I scream out, agony tearing through my hand as Zeke simply watches me, a cocky smirk on his lips. His hand curls into a fist and he taps his knuckles against his junk, letting me hear the solid sound coming from beneath. “Really, Shayne? You’re a scrappy fighter, trained by DeAngelis scum. You didn’t think I’d come prepared for a cheap shot to my cock? I’m insulted.”

Shaking out my hand, I get back to my feet and throw myself right into his face. “Call them scum one more fucking time and I’ll gut you while you sleep.”

Zeke laughs and shoves his hand into my shoulder, forcing me back a step. “That’s a mighty roar for such a little cub.”

The insult stings, but I try to hide it, not wanting to give him more ammunition to use against me. If there were any way for me to get through to him and make him hurt, I would have done it long ago.

Zeke immediately gets back into my training, not taking it easy on me at all. I block his advances, each of my movements getting sloppier by the second, the exhaustion quickly creeping up on me. “So, tell me,” I spit, watching his every move. “Where were you while the brothers were being slaughtered? Watching the show with a fucking grin on your face?”

“A dead enemy of mine is another fucker who can’t hurt my woman and another night that I get to rest easy, so you bet your fucking ass that I was watching every moment of it, making sure they went down hard,” he says with a smirk, his fist shooting straight through my defenses and landing a devastating blow against my ribs, no doubt one that will turn them black and blue within minutes.

Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. How the hell am I supposed to stay here with people who would have happily killed the brothers had their father not already done it? Fucking hell. It won’t be long until one of these assholes pushes me a little too far and I accidentally slit their throat in return.

Anger pulses through my veins as fire burns in my eyes, making each of my movements harder to control. “Focus,” Gia growls, “you’re not going to improve as long as your mind is stuck on those boys. I have told you already, Giovanni’s sons were not my problem, nor will I make space for their memory in my training room.”

I scoff, my gaze quickly flicking her way as I duck under Zeke’s strong arm. “Oh, but it was your fucking problem the second Giovanni wanted to make me his bride,” I spit. “Tell me, if the boys were still alive, would you have bothered to step in or did you plan to let them handle your fucking dirty work?”

Zeke pulls back, his brows furrowing as he turns back toward Gia. “The fuck is she talking about?”

Lesson number one. Don’t turn your back on your enemy.

My hand curls into a tight fist, and with everything I have, I rear back and throw my arm forward, letting it fly free and slam against the side of Zeke’s face, cracking his nose and sending a spray of blood hurtling across the training mat.

A strangled roar tears from deep in his chest, but before I can even congratulate myself on such a good hit defending the boys’ honor, his hand shoots out and curls around my throat. He rips me up off the training mat, my feet dangling for only a moment before he throws me down with his whole body weight. My head rebounds off the mat so hard that I feel the solid ground through the protective cushioning.

My vision blurs, and I don’t hear a damn thing apart from a sharp ringing in my ear. But judging by the way the veins protrude from his throat as his face reddens, he’s definitely saying something.

Only a moment passes before my vision clears and my lungs begin to ache. I struggle around his hold on my throat, gasping for air, but it never comes. My head starts to spin and I’m not sure if it’s from the lack of oxygen or the hit I took, but when Gia steps in beside us and places a calming hand on Zeke’s shoulder, he immediately releases me.

The loud ringing begins to ease, and I can hear her murmured voice as Zeke pushes up off the ground. “Go and get yourself cleaned up,” she orders. “That’s enough for today.”

Without a backward glance, Zeke takes off, leaving me with the incubator. She crouches down, her eyes raking over the bruises marring my skin. “Zeke is not a man whom you want to make an enemy of,” she tells me. “You will do well to remember that.”

I swallow hard, pushing up onto my palm as my other hand searches the back of my head, feeling a lump already forming, and damn, it’s going to be a nasty one. Gia watches me cautiously. “You’re going to need to ice that,” she says. “Zeke’s given me plenty of those over the years, and trust me, it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

I glare up at her, shakily getting to my feet. My brow arches and I cut in front of her, desperate for the water bottle sitting across the room. “Do I need to give you the number for the domestic abuse hotline?” I mutter. “Or do you guys just like playing dirty?”

With my back to Gia, I don’t see her response, but I can all but feel the sharp glare digging into the back of my head. I scoop up my drink bottle and take a quick gulp before crumbling down to the sparring mat, every last ounce of my energy depleted.

The water is like a gift from the heavens, and I go through nearly half my bottle before Gia rolls her eyes and slowly walks back toward me. “Take small sips. You’ll give yourself a stitch if you continue gulping it down like a pig.”

My gaze snaps up to hers. “Am I supposed to assume that you actually care? Because you’ve fucked up that ruse at least a hundred times since I’ve been here.”

“I am not foolish, Shayne. I don’t expect you to care about me or want a mother-daughter relationship, but don’t assume I don’t care for you because I’m pushing you to be a leader. Sending you away after your birth was the hardest decision I ever made, but I truly believed that I was doing the right thing back then. Perhaps I was wrong,” she adds. “Perhaps sending you away wasn’t what was best for you. You could have grown up in this home, and I could have molded you into that strong young woman I see hiding inside you. You sure as hell would have been smart enough to keep from falling for those DeAngelis boys. You may have even been the one to end them yourself.”

I gape at her. “Is that your version of an apology? Because it sucked.”

“Look, Shayne. I want us to be able to get along. I know you don’t see it now, but I want you to succeed. I want the best for you, and I believe that given time, you’ll come to love it here. However, this training is necessary. When it comes time for you to step into my shoes and rule over my empire, I want you to be able to make the right decisions, I want you to be able to rise up and take the challenge with both hands. I want you to make this role your bitch, just as I did when my father passed.”

Letting out a sigh, I take one more small sip before capping the bottle and meeting her softening gaze again. “Then tell me everything. How did you find out that Giovanni had taken me, and how the hell did you end up striking a deal with the boys?”

Gia presses her lips into a hard line before letting out a sigh and moving just a little bit closer. “To be completely honest with you, I didn’t know Giovanni had taken you until his sons held that party in their home. Giovanni had been off my radar for a while so when whispers sounded of his sons having themselves a new girl, I made it my business, and the shock of realizing it was you … I had to play the game carefully. I wanted to storm their castle the moment I realized, but if Giovanni caught wind that I knew of his plans, he would have ended your life before I had a chance to save it.” She pauses and takes a subtle breath, watching me too closely for comfort.

“My men watched you carefully. Those boys had quite the reputation. They weren’t gentle with their girls, and I hated that they would use you in the same way, but my blood runs through your veins. I knew you would be strong enough to withstand their abuse. You were fine where you were, nor did I wish to start a war over something so … trivial.”

My nerves grind at her calling my kidnapping trivial. Nothing that I suffered through, the guns, stab wounds, the bathtub, felt trivial to me.

“We followed your every step, until you went off the radar. The boys were making quite a lot of noise and news quickly spread that Giovanni had taken you. Believe me when I say that there were a lot of people out there looking for you, however only a small handful with good intentions.”

I swallow hard, the memories of what happened in that cell haunting me, but I keep quiet, desperate to hear the story.

“I have the kind of resources that those boys didn’t have access to, and I was able to get a location on your whereabouts, which is where things got tricky. I had a decision to make. It was clear to me at that point that you had formed a bond with the brothers, one I will never understand, however I didn’t wish to strip you of that quite so soon. I know of your … issues with the Miller brothers and how fiercely the DeAngelis boys fought to protect you. It was clear that you were safe with them, despite their reputations. There was also the risk that had my men stormed Giovanni’s desert cells, you wouldn’t have gone with them. There is only so many times a girl can be kidnapped before she loses her mind. The timing wasn’t right, so I arranged a meeting with the brothers and gave up your location considering they would ensure your safety and release you when the time was right. The deal was that I didn’t want any complications. They weren’t to harm you or fall for you in any way. It was to be a clean break.”

I shake my head, knowing just how scared they were, and that they would have agreed to absolutely anything if it meant getting me back—they would have given up their own lives had she asked. “I can imagine,” I tell her. “Though you know they would have never given me up. They were well and truly in love with me by then.”

“Well, they certainly didn’t give me that impression. It wasn’t until I saw you with them in person that I realized the bond you shared was much more than mere friendship.”

I scoff, a smirk stretching across my face. “Apparently you’re easily fooled,” I murmur. “That’s good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gia narrows her eyes. “I won’t forget you said that.”

A soft smile plays on my lips, thinking of just how crazy in love they were, though in their own strange way. “You know, they would have gone to war just to keep me by their side.”

A sparkle hits Gia’s eye as she presses her hand to my shoulder. Her lips pull into a wicked grin. “I know. I was looking forward to it.”

Gia gives me a tight smile, one that certainly doesn’t reach her eyes, and as she starts to walk away, her words hit me like a wrecking ball. She said that despite the boys’ reputation, she was willing to leave me with them. She’s known since that very first party that they kidnapped me, yet she refused to rescue me when I needed it the most. Before the bathtub, before Marcus got shot, and before my captors became my everything. I was terrified, waking up in the middle of the night, certain that death was knocking on my door, yet she still didn’t come.

Scrambling to my feet, I turn on my heel, and hurry the few steps to catch up to her. My body aches from my brutal training session with her playtoy, but I put it to the back of my mind and hold my head high so that when she turns, I can look her dead in the eye. “Gia,” I call after her. “Wait.”

She spins around, her brow arched, and if I look close enough, I swear I can see a hint of impatience. “What is it, Shayne? I have a nose to set.”

Guilt flurries deep in my gut but remembering the cruel words Zeke spoke of the boys, I push it away. “Yeah, that sounds like a you problem,” I tell her, taking one more step to put me right in her way. “I just need to know … this whole arrangement we’ve got going on, it’s purely because you need an heir, isn’t it? Nothing else.”

“Shayne, I have already told you how I feel about this. I am glad that I have the chance to get to know you as my daughter.”

I shake my head. “Any mother who truly gave a shit, would have done everything in her power to save her daughter the moment she knew that she was kidnapped by a man like Giovanni DeAngelis, yet you thought of it as a holding cell, somewhere to shove me until it suited your schedule.”

Her gaze flickers, cutting away from my heavy stare, so I continue, knowing damn well that she feels uncomfortable having this discussion. “Tell me this,” I say. “If you weren’t dying, if you still had another fifty years as the leader of the Moretti family, would you have bothered to rescue me at all? If there were no need for an heir …”

Her brows furrow as she looks at me in shock. “Of course I would have. When the timing was right and when Giovanni least expected it, I would have found a way to take you back. My blood runs through your veins, Shayne. You are a Moretti and therefore, you belong to me.”

“Yeah,” I scoff. “As a possession.”

Gia sighs, reading the words I haven’t spoken out loud. “It is the same for how I feel about Zeke,” she starts. “Love is weakness. Love makes us vulnerable and puts targets on people’s backs while giving our enemies something to use against us. I will not love you, Shayne, if that is what you are asking of me. I sent you away so that you couldn’t be used against me. You are here solely to become my heir, the leader of my family, and nothing else. If we happen to connect in that time and create a … comradery, then that is wonderful. However, do not hold out hope for something deeper because you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment.”

I shrug my shoulders. “What does it matter? I’ve been let down my whole life by the people who I called family. I’m not going to magically expect that to change now.”

Her lips pull into a tight line and a swirl of anger flares within her eyes, one that she does a shitty job of concealing. “If that is all,” she says.

“One more question,” I rush out before she gets the chance to leave. She watches me, waiting impatiently, so I take a shaky breath, terrified of what her answer is going to be. “Am I a prisoner here?”

Gia’s eyes widen in shock. “No,” she says, her brows pinching together as she stares at me through a horrified gaze. “Absolutely not. I have explained to you that you are here for training. I thought I made that quite clear.”

“So, I can walk away from this at any point?” I challenge, my brow slowly arching. “I can decide that this life isn’t for me, that I don’t want anything to do with it and go home to my shitty apartment, live my life the way that I’d planned?”

Gia swallows hard, her gaze dropping for a brief moment, telling me exactly what I want to know. “No, Shayne,” she says. “You cannot walk away from this. As long as you have my DNA, you will be the heir to the Moretti empire. Your name is whispered on my enemies lips, so know that the moment you decide to run from me, they will be searching for you. This is not a prison, and I am not your warden. However, you cannot leave without my explicit say so. Don’t be foolish, child. I am giving you free rein of my home, full access, but if I get even the slightest hint that you will make a break for it, I will not hesitate to lock you up.”

An unladylike scoff tears from the back of my throat as I walk forward, knocking my shoulder against hers. I stop right beside her, anger rolling off me in waves. “The last person who pissed me off accidentally lost their organs to a chainsaw,” I tell her. “If you say this is not a prison, then don’t treat it like one. If you bite me, I will bite back.”

With that, I walk out of the training room and take myself back to my room where I’ll stay until Zeke comes barging through my door first thing in the morning.

5

My body aches as I lower myself down into the bathtub, and I suck in a sharp hiss between my teeth when the freezing water hits my skin. I’ve been training for a week, day in and day out. Gia’s men will barge into my room at any damn hour they see fit and demand my presence down in the training room, sometimes only letting me sleep a few hours at a time. Gia warned me that training would be brutal, but I never imagined this.

Tears of exhaustion leak from my eyes, and I hate myself for not being stronger through this, but if I just keep pushing, just keep showing up, it’ll eventually get easier. I can feel myself starting to improve. I’m still far from being able to protect myself the way my boys could, but I feel the muscles in my arms getting stronger, my reflexes faster, and my ability to read someone’s movement is more precise.

The boys had years of training and no amount of early morning sessions is going to bring me up to their level, but I have to keep trying, despite how much I hate it here.

I haven’t spoken a word to Gia since my first training session, though I’d bet anything that Zeke has been reporting back to her every day. Either that, or there are cameras in the training room, probably all over the property. Perhaps I should check that out when Zeke inevitably drags my ass back down there in a few hours, at least that way I’ll know which direction to flip the bird every time I walk in.

I’ve gone over everything—combat skills, weaponry training, Moretti family politics—and it’s all fucking bullshit. The last thing I want is to be initiated into this family, though like everyone keeps reminding me, Moretti blood pulses through my veins, so I don’t get a choice in the matter.

Lucky me.

Insert eye roll here.

As much as I hate to admit it, Zeke is a good trainer, crooked nose and all. He pushes me to my limits, and when my body begins to fail, he takes me straight across to the shooting range, always keeping me moving, always training, always pushing me to go past the point where I want to give up, and damn it, I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut around him. The more I bitch at him, the harder his hits become, but at least they make me feel something.

When I’m not training, when it’s just me alone in this massive room, I’m dead inside. I don’t feel a goddamn thing.

Scooting down in the oversized bathtub, I let the ice water cover my whole body, blowing out my cheeks as the chill seeps into my bones. I hate this, but my body needs it to help recover from the intense sessions I’ve been suffering through for the past seven days. I sink lower and lower in the tub until only the important parts of my face are protruding from the water, and I try to relax, try to loosen my taut muscles, and hell, after a while, it even starts to feel good. Or perhaps the water is just cold enough that I’ve gone numb and lost all feeling. It’s hard to tell the difference when my soul no longer exists.

Just like every time I’m alone, my mind filters through everything that went down that night. I've cried more tears than I thought possible, yet they just keep coming when I least expect them.

The grief is too much, too hard to push through. I need them here to hold me, to tell me that I can get through this. I’ve been living in complete darkness since the moment their bodies crashed into the grass, like I’ve been asleep this whole time and nothing will wake me until I know they’re okay, but that’s never going to happen. There’s no way Giovanni would have allowed them to survive after that. His plans have changed, and the boys’ betrayal was the final straw. He’s going to rise up just like everyone kept warning me, and it’s going to be brutal.

The water’s surface reflects the sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling window, and as I blow out all the air in my lungs, I slip further into its icy grip. The cold water burns my face, but I don’t dare move.

What’s the point? There’s nothing here for me, only a life filled with tragedy. Giovanni is always going to win. Even if I somehow manage to get through this and end his miserable life.

I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be Gia’s little protégée, and I sure as hell don’t want to live a life with targets constantly on my back. I just want to find peace.

My lungs begin to ache as my body screams at me to resurface.

I’ve never felt so low, so hurt, so full of despair.

A little voice spears its way through my mind. The boys would be so mad at you right now. Look how weak you are, giving up on yourself, letting Giovanni win. They didn’t love you so you could lose the fight, lose everything that they worked for. Ten years in their prison castle and a lifetime of abuse just for you to give up on them now. I’m so ashamed of you. Are they not worthy of your fight? They saved you, they brought you back from the brink of death time and time again. Now it’s your turn to take everything they so carefully laid out for you. Take what you’re owed. You’re not this weak bitch. They made you stronger than this. Send them off with what they’re owed.

Fuck.

I push up out of the bathtub, my arms hooking over the edges as I gasp for air, my lungs straining for relief as their faces appear in my mind.

How could I have been so fucking stupid? I can’t give this up now. I have to push through. I have to make this right and somehow survive.

Fuck Gia. Fuck Zeke. And fuck Giovanni DeAngelis. That prick will die by my hand whether I have help or not. I have to get out of here. I have to find a way because that’s exactly what Roman, Levi, and Marcus would expect of me—no. That’s what they’d demand.

Though, if they’re rotting down in the deepest pits of hell, I can guarantee that they’re already too busy ruling over the other assholes down there to be bothered thinking about the bullshit life they endured up here on earth. They’d be right at home down there, even the devil himself would be kneeling to my men.

Reaching through the bottom of the ice bath, I release the drain and pull my aching body from the tub, stepping out onto the soft floor mat and grabbing the massive towel from the heated rack. I pull it around my freezing body, holding it tight as I dry off and promptly drop it back to the pristine tiles.

Strutting out into the bedroom, I pull open the walk-in closet’s big double doors and rifle through all my new clothes. There are so many things in here, shirts, leggings, jeans, summer dresses, gowns, not to mention the vast array of shoes, heels, and boots. I’ve never ventured further than the top two drawers—underwear, training crops, and workout tights … plus my Nikes. I have no need for all the other crap, and as much as I appreciate the thought, none of this shit is my style. My clothes are back in the DeAngelis mansion, and I won’t stop until I’m right back there, taking ownership of every last one of them.

In order to get out of here, it’s time to step up my game. I need to be strong. I need to be ready, but more than that, I need a fucking plan.

Despite not seeing Gia since my first day here, I still have no idea what her intentions are when it comes to Giovanni or his newborn son. She hasn’t given me any indication on whether she plans to help me, and so I have no choice but to assume she’s keeping quiet to avoid telling me no, simply because she doesn’t want to deal with the outburst that will follow.

Slipping out of my bedroom, I creep down the hallway and to the stairs. I don’t see anyone below, but that’s not unusual. Though, how would I really know? The only times I come up and down here is when I’m being dragged to the training room, apart from that, I’ve never bothered to search around.

The elevator for the training room is to the right of the stairs, so when I reach the bottom, I take off to the left instead. Gia gave me free rein of this place, as long as I play by her rules, so what could a little snooping hurt?

The home is bigger and nicer than Giovanni’s place, though I didn’t even think that was possible. Gia defied all odds when building this masterpiece. It has everything a woman could ever need. Two massive ballrooms, one of them the size of Giovanni’s, while the other is even bigger. There are formal and informal living rooms, meeting rooms, and three separate dining rooms … though room is probably the wrong term for them, they’re more like dining halls.

Everything is glossy, white marble, and I’m struck with the thought of the kind of place both Gia and Roman could build had they ever been given the chance to work together. Roman had an incredible eye for detail, and I’m sure in another life, he would have made an amazing architect. Gia, on the other hand, has the type of interior design skills that any homeowner would dream of. Every corner of every room has been meticulously thought out and flows perfectly from one space into the next.

I can’t imagine how much this place would have cost to build. It’s insane … but it’s also quiet. Too quiet.

When I was with the boys, I could always hear something, whether it be the sounds of the wolves racing through the long hallways, Marcus maniacally laughing as he thought up new ways to kill someone, or the heavy thumping of Levi’s drums through every corner of the home. Roman though, no one ever heard from him. When he made a noise, it was meant to be heard. He was always so broody, it made me wonder about the things that tormented his mind while he was alone.

The soft murmur of voices trail down a long hallway and I stand at the top of it, staring down as I bite my lip. The hallway is decorated with big doors on either side, all of them closed apart from the one at the very end. Something screams at me that this is Gia’s personal office, the space where she conducts all of her shady business deals and makes the kind of decisions that change people’s lives, sometimes for the better, but I’d be lying if I said the majority of those changes were good ones.

Curiosity flares through me, but do I really want to risk going down there and listening to a conversation that wasn’t meant for me? Especially a conversation that’s intended to be behind closed doors.

Hell to the motherfucking yes, I do.

Call me a fool, but I’m not going to get anywhere from shying away.

I sneak down the long hallway like some kind of ninja, feeling like the baddest bitch who ever lived. Only every breath I take makes me want to strangle myself. I’ve never tried to breathe so quietly before, but the more I do it, the louder it seems to get. What the fuck is wrong with me?

My heart thunders like it had a bad dose of crack, and as I move further down the hall, the tone of the voices becomes clear. There’s a female and a male, the woman clearly being Gia but the man … I don’t know, his voice is so low that I can’t quite make it out.

I haven’t spent enough time with any of Gia’s guards to really recognize their voices, but as I hear the name ‘DeAngelis’ murmured through the open door, I suck in a breath, straining to hear every last word.

“That’s not possible,” Gia says as my brows furrow, desperate to know what the fuck is going on and why they need to be talking business about the DeAngelis family. Has something happened? Are they preparing an attack on Giovanni? “Not even a whisper?”

“Nothing,” the man says, his tone suggesting that it’s possibly Zeke, though I could be wrong. “No one has heard a thing since the attack last week, at least where the brothers are concerned. Funeral arrangements have been made for Victor’s four sons.”

“But nothing for Giovanni’s?”

There is a painful silence and I struggle to listen over the sound of my pulse thumping heavily in my ear drums. “You don’t think …” Gia lets the words fall away as though she doesn’t want to risk voicing her thoughts, as though what she’s about to say could ruin everything.

“No,” the other voice says, his tone firmer, confirming my suspicions. It’s definitely Zeke. “They couldn’t be alive. It’s not possible. Not after what Giovanni did to them. Plus, those three gunshots that rang out as we were leaving. We’d be fools to assume they weren’t kill shots right through his sons’ skulls.”

Bile rises in my throat at just the thought of those bullets penetrating the boys’ heads, but I swallow it down, needing to put it aside to hear what’s going on in that room. “They’re the biggest players in the DeAngelis family,” Gia says. “If they were dead, people would be talking. The DeAngelis family swore loyalty to those boys. If Giovanni truly killed them, the remaining family would be scrambling for their lives, begging for forgiveness, but you’re telling me there’s nothing but silence?”

“That’s right,” Zeke returns. “Unless Giovanni hasn’t made it public. They could be dead and the family simply doesn’t know it yet.”

“No,” Gia says, her tone forceful and strained. “There were too many guards. Even if they were sworn to silence, information would have been leaked by now. There’s only one possible outcome of this.”

“The fuckers are still alive,” Zeke finishes for her, his voice a breathy whisper, full of disbelief, and if I’m not wrong, a hint of awe.

Hope spurs through my chest as I suck in a shaky breath. Could they really think my boys are alive? Is there truly a chance?

Silence fills the room again, and I find myself edging closer to the door, needing to hear every last word. “It’s just not possible,” Gia murmurs, her tone filled with confusion, and it sounds as though she may be talking to herself, thinking out loud. “You saw those injuries. They couldn’t have survived that, but then—”

“Those boys have defied much worse odds than that.”

“So, you think we should work off the assumption that they’re still alive?”

Zeke scoffs. “My assumption is that if they are alive, if those three gunshots weren’t aimed between their eyes, then they’re barely holding on.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. FUCK.

That darkness that has consumed me for the past seven days explodes inside my chest, waking up the devil who lives inside me. I haven’t felt a damn thing since they crumbled into the grass and for the first time, that small ray of hope begins to flicker deep in my chest.

My boys. I fucking knew they wouldn’t give up without a fight. They wouldn’t leave me like that. They aren’t done here yet. They have too much to accomplish, too much to give.

My hands shake at my sides as the need to barge into Gia’s office flutters through me. I have to get out of here. If there’s a chance they’re still alive, I have to make it to them. They’ve saved me more times than I can count, and now it’s time to return the favor.

Tears of happiness streak down my face as I try to contain myself. I know there’s a good chance Zeke is wrong, that they really are dead, but I have no choice but to believe because, without them, I have nothing.

There’s a soft thud, possibly Gia dropping down into a large desk chair as she lets out a heavy sigh, the sound filled with thought and unease. I have to pull myself up, holding back as I hear footsteps. Zeke makes his way around her desk, putting himself at her side, probably offering her what little comfort he can. “What’s the plan, boss?” he says, his voice muffled and low.

Silence follows, and I don’t doubt that Gia is weighing all of her options, figuring out the best course of action to ensure that every possible outcome keeps the Moretti family on top. “There is no plan,” she finally says, my back stiffening. How could she have no plan? There is only one obvious answer to this. We go in and we save them. “Do not speak a word of this. If Giovanni has those boys, they’d be locked up and slowly dying. We keep quiet and let nature take its course. Soon enough, they’ll be riddled with infection to the point they’ll probably beg each other to take their lives. They’ll die, and when that happens, we break the news to Shayne, tell her there was nothing we could do to help them, that we tried, but it was too late. Vengeance will spark in her, and she’ll push herself until she’s up to the task of taking out Giovanni herself. We won’t even need to lift a finger.”

“What then?” he questions, amusement shining in his tone. “Does she return here? It won’t be long until she realizes that you’re not sick.”

The fuck? Not sick?

“No. We let her take out Giovanni. Without him or his sons to continue the line, the whole DeAngelis family will crumble. Once she’s completed her task, we put a bullet through her head and take Giovanni’s newborn son as our own. The Moretti family was built on my blood and my blood alone. I sit on the throne, and I will not risk her swooping in here and trying to take it out from under me. So, for now, we turn her into a warrior to do our bidding. She knows the inner secrets to that family, and we will corrupt every last one of them until they finally fall. Keep your enemies close, Zeke. The Moretti family is only just getting started.”

Well … fuck.

6

What the actual fuck just happened?

I sit up in my room, my mind reeling from everything I just learned downstairs.

One. Gia is a lying sack of shit who will do absolutely anything it takes to get what she wants—cross anyone, stab them in the back, betray her own blood. She’s a coward and a fool, and at some point, I’m going to make her pay for what I heard through her office walls, but I have bigger problems right now.

Two. There’s a good chance that my boys are still breathing, and if they are, ain’t nothin’ gonna stop me from getting to them.

Watching through my bedroom window, I spy Gia’s guards and begin to take note of their schedules and faces. There are about fifteen of them who are regulars here, working in shifts every day and night. I see them down in the training room and around the house every now and then, but there are maybe another ten who I’ve only seen once or twice over the past week.

I get Gia’s need for having guards at her constant disposal, but it’s kinda embarrassing. The boys never needed hired help to get a job done. They had each other and that’s all they ever needed. I doubt Gia would have gotten anywhere without the line of hired muscle at her back. The Moretti family may be bigger and stronger than the DeAngelis family, but at least the DeAngelis family can stand proud knowing that its rightful leaders are the kind of men who would bleed to protect it. I can’t say the same for Gia.

She’s a spineless bitch and I can’t wait to crush her.

My bedroom door slams open with a BANG and my head snaps back, taking in Zeke standing in my doorway. His gaze travels over my body, no doubt surprised to see me dressed and ready for today’s training session. “You’re ready,” he states, his brow arching as a flicker of surprise crosses his face.

I push away from the windowsill, not needing the usual ten-minute warning, swallowing down every bullshit comment about what I heard downstairs that wants to come flying out of my mouth. “Wow, you’re observant today,” I say, striding straight past him, hating the thought of having my back turned to the man who will most likely be responsible for ending my life. But as long as they don’t know I overheard them in Gia’s office, I should be safe. I hope.

My hands pulse at my sides, curling in and out of fists as I do what I can to relax. Ever since finding out the boys could be alive, I haven’t been able to concentrate. The desperation to get out of here drives my every move and sitting still simply isn’t possible.

I need to run.

I need to make a plan.

I need to find a way to get to them.

Nothing else matters to me, not anymore.

The boys could be suffering; they could be laying in dirty cells in agony, slowly bleeding to death. Maybe I’m their only chance at survival. Fuck, even if it means ending my own life just to save theirs, I’d do it. I need to play Gia’s game more now than ever because the alternative … shit, I can’t even think about that.

Skipping down the steps, I beat Zeke to the bottom, but I feel his hard stare digging into my back the whole time. I grip the railing at the bottom and catapult myself around the corner, leading toward the ridiculously expensive elevator. Hitting the button, I wait patiently for it to arrive and by the time the door opens, Zeke is there, moving in beside me. We move silently into the elevator together, and as the door closes us in, his suspicious gaze slowly turns on me. “Why?” he questions, his tone low and curious.

I shrug my shoulders, avoiding his piercing stare. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get a head start on the day.”

I sense his eyes narrowing further, but when the ding sounds our arrival at the training room and the door begins to open, it releases the tension in the small metal box, and his gaze finally falls away. I stride into the room with a sharp eye, taking note of every man here, where they stand, who they spar with, and what weapons they have at their disposal.

I won’t allow myself to be ambushed in this house. I’ve been prey to assholes of this world too many times, and that shit sure as fuck won’t be happening again.

“Where do you want me?” I murmur, feeling Zeke hovering far too closely.

He glances over at the shooting range, his lips pressing into a tight line when he finds all the lanes full. “Training mat,” he mutters, a hint of disappointment in his tone. “We need to work on your speed and agility. They’re lacking. We’ll shoot this afternoon.”

Irritation burns through me as I turn on my heel and march across the room. Not only because of his comments about my lacking skills, but because I’d had my heart set on shooting or at least some form of weapon training. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a whore for shooting, I don’t particularly love it, but when I’m on the training mats and my body starts to ache, this bitch gets a little too emotional. I can’t always trust myself to bite my tongue.

Zeke has a particular fire about him when training, he pushes me to my limits and then keeps going until I break. He’s ruthless, and right now, I can’t trust my emotions not to get in the way. It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ll ever do, especially because the few hours I stay down here are another few hours the boys will suffer.

“Alright, in position,” he says as we step up onto the training mats. He pauses for a brief moment, watching as I cross the mat and turn to meet him head on. My gaze quickly flicks over his shoulder as I take note of my new position in the room, where guards now stand, how quickly they could get to me, and just how many I’ll need to fight off if it comes down to it.

Zeke sees the quick calculation and his gaze narrows just a bit, but he decides not to say anything about it. Perhaps he thinks I’m just getting better at knowing my surroundings, a lesson he taught me himself, or perhaps he thinks I’m a shady bitch and I’m up to something. The asshole can read me like a book, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I’ve already screwed myself over.

I’m so fucked. So fucking fucked.

Keeping my gaze on Zeke, I try to appear as the broken, frustrated girl I was before overhearing his conversation with Gia, and I plaster a scowl across my face, waiting for his instructions. His eyes remain narrowed. “I’m going to come at you,” he tells me, not shrugging off his suspicions, but definitely putting them aside to do the job his boss has demanded of him. “I want you to block me. You’ll need to read my every move. Watch my feet, watch how I advance toward you. Be prepared. My moves are going to get faster, more precise, and the moment you see a chance, I want you to strike back.”

Swallowing hard, I give a firm nod, not needing much more instruction than that, but I don’t know why he bothers with the long, drawn-out explanation when he could sum it up with a simple, I’m going to kick your ass for the fun of it, try and stop me.

Zeke moves toward me, and I brace myself, watching his every move. I’ve gotten pretty used to his style over the past week, but my head has never been as clear as it is today. Today, I’m ready for him.

His weight shifts onto his right foot, and just like that, his hand shoots out and I throw everything I have into my defense. His hit slices straight past my face, and without even a hint of warning, my hand that just blocked him flies back up in a scrappy, backhanded whack to the side of his face.

He blinks quickly, taking a step back as though he’s never been so confused in his life. He hadn’t expected me to get through, especially when he had his full attention on me. So far, the only hits I’ve been able to land are the bullshit ones that happen when his back is turned. “You’re focused today,” he says, trying to sound as though he’s giving me the nod of approval, yet the suspicion is still deep in his tone.

My brows furrow, and I watch him carefully as his jaw ticks. I bet the asshole wants to rub his face, but he won’t dare lift a finger to his jaw in my presence and silently admit that it actually hurts. “Would you prefer that I wasn’t?” I throw back at him, holding my fighter’s stance, more than ready for him to come at me with a harder, more brutal edge. “I didn’t realize that beating the shit out of unsuspecting young women is what got you hard, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

He snaps out at me, his hands moving like lightning and proving just how much I still have to learn. His big hand closes around my throat, squeezing tight. “Don’t push me, Shayne. I am not in the mood for your bullshit today.”

I keep myself calm, having learned that panicking in situations like this doesn’t help anybody. So instead, I throw my hand up, bracing my fingers together as I spear them right at his throat in a wicked blow. He immediately releases his hold around my neck, and I suck in a desperate breath as he stumbles back, clutching his throat and trying not to cough. Rage burns through his gaze, but I stand tall. “You’re a scrappy fighter, Zeke, trained by Moretti scum,” I say, mimicking the words he’d used on me during our first training session. “You didn’t think I’d come prepared for a cheap shot? I’m insulted.”

I walk around him, keeping my sharp stare on him at all times, watching the stillness of his body and waiting for him to strike. His eyes never leave mine and that suspicion only grows until something finally snaps into place. Whatever he thinks he knows, he doesn’t say a damn word, and I briefly wonder just how much shit I’ve put myself in, but he lashes back out at me, throwing his whole body into it.

My eyes are wide, focusing on his every movement, but he’s too fast and keeps getting through with devastating blows, but I don’t give up. I’ve learned what giving up means over the past week and that’s not something I want to put myself through again, so I keep fighting, keep blocking, even when my aching lungs scream for it to end.

Zeke advances on me, every step he takes bringing him closer and closer. He’s trying to force me back, get me trapped between him and the wall with nowhere to run, but I’ve been trapped far too many times to allow that kind of bullshit to go down. So, with every step he takes toward me, I sidestep, moving me across the mat and forcing him to turn until he’s the one with his back to the wall.

He meets me blow for blow and I block his vicious strikes against my forearms, but when he gets past my defenses and slams his strong fist against my ribs, I go down like a sack of shit. Rolling myself away from him, I scramble to my feet as Zeke saunters after me, but I’m too slow, feeling his tight grip curl around my back. Now, if the boys hadn’t taught me exactly what to do in this position, I might well and truly be fucked, but unlucky for Zeke, I don’t allow assholes to grab me from behind, not anymore.

I slam my elbow back into his gut, winding him just like Roman taught me, and before the asshole even realizes what the fuck is happening, I slam my ass back into his groin before doubling over and using the momentum to my advantage. Grabbing his arm, I yank hard, flipping his body right over my head until his back slams onto the training mat with a heavy thump.

I drop on top of him, my knee pressing against his throat as I make a pistol out of my fingers, pressing it right to his temple. “BANG! You’re dead,” I tell him, arching my brow. Despite this session being just like all the others, he doesn’t know why I’m extra pissed off and worked up. He knows I've bested him though, and that definitely hasn't happened before.

He narrows that sharp gaze again, and before I know it, his hand is wrapping around the knee that's crushing his windpipe, and with impressive strength, he throws me right off him. I barely catch myself, stumbling for a moment before balancing on two feet, and by the time I brace myself for more, Zeke is already standing before me.

Something catches my eye on the ground between us and I risk dropping my gaze to find a set of keys. They must have fallen out of his pocket when I threw him over my shoulder. He doesn’t look down at them, but a man like Zeke is aware of his surroundings at all times.

He doesn’t go after them, doesn’t even comment about them, just stares at me, knowing that I know they’re there, knowing that I know that he knows I know … fuck. I sound like an old episode of Friends.

Neither of us make a move. “You know,” he says, watching me like a hawk as he slowly begins circling me. I move with him, never allowing him to get behind me.

A breathy scoff tears from the back of my throat and I arch a brow, letting him know just how ridiculous I think his question is. “That you dropped your keys on the ground and are now trying to use them as some form of bait. Yeah, I fucking know. They’re right in front of my face.”

“No,” he says, his tone darkening, making me swallow with unease. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” Zeke keeps circling me, and I watch him closely, not liking this one bit. The tension in the room has changed. I’m no longer his student, I’m his prey. He lowers his voice, keeping our conversation private from the other guards using the training room. “You’re focused. You’re alert, aware of your surroundings. Your reflexes are sharper than they’ve been since arriving here. You’ve counted the men in this room five times since we started, and you’ve been more interested in protecting yourself rather than lashing out, almost as though you won’t risk an injury. Plus, you’re looking at me as though I might decide to pull the fucking trigger at any given point.” Zeke gets back to where he started, looking me dead in the eye as he positions himself directly in front of the security camera. “You know.”

I shake my head, my eyes narrowed on him as my body screams with unease, unsure where the fuck I’m supposed to go from here. My heart races, every other noise in the training room fading away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zeke scoffs. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a shitty liar?”

A wicked grin pulls at the corner of my lips. “All the fucking time.”

Zeke’s gaze drops to the keys on the mat before slowly coming back to mine, and just like that, his muscles tighten, and I brace myself for another attack. He races toward me, and I meet him in the middle, his hits harder, more forceful, and coming at me a million miles an hour. I groan and grunt, trying to keep up with his advanced level but he quickly gets his hands on me, throwing me down to the ground.

He comes down on top of me, his heavy body slamming into mine and forcing the air out of my lungs with a quick whoosh. I cry out, the pain all too real as my eyes widen with fear. I might not have admitted to knowing about the boys, but he’s made it all too clear that he knows I showed up here ready to fight. He knows that I’m ready to bust my way out of here, and he knows that I’m prepared to burn this fucker down to the ground to make it happen.

I’m fucked.

Zeke pulls back, flipping my body and slamming me back into the cushioned mats, pressing my face into the ground, the keys right in front of my eyes. His knee comes down on my spine as his hand curls around the back of my neck, pinning me down. And although I’m pressed into a soft training mat, I can assure anyone who’ll listen, there’s nothing comfortable about this shit.

Zeke leans down, his movements putting more pressure against my spine. He doesn’t stop until he’s hovering right by my ear, his big body blocking both me and the keys from the security camera by the elevator. “Run,” he murmurs, his voice so low I have to strain to hear it. “Take the fucking keys and run. Don’t ever come back here unless it’s to put a bullet through her fucking head.”

My eyes widen, my breath coming in sharp, pained gasps, and no sooner than he slammed me down onto the mat, he tears away from me. “We’re done here,” he snaps before turning his back and walking away. He doesn’t look back at me and I’m wondering if I just heard what the fuck I think I just heard.

Not taking any risks, my hand shoots out like lightning, scooping up the keys left abandoned on the mat.

7

Fuck. This is stupid.

This is so fucking dumb, but what choice do I have?

I pace through my bedroom, my finger slipped through the circle key ring, flipping the keys back and forth in my hand, exactly as I’ve been doing since the moment that I arrived back in my room over twelve hours ago.

Zeke is Gia’s second in command, he is her most loyal follower, her soldier, and lover, and now I’m supposed to trust that he would give me the resources I need to get away with a warning that if I were to come back, it better be to murder the woman who’s supposedly my mother.

WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE?

One. I can’t trust Zeke. I don’t know enough about him to assume he has my best interests at heart. Nor can I trust the key in my hand. The thing could have a GPS tracker in it, same goes for the car it belongs to. If I were to somehow get out of here, I’d have to ditch the car and find something else, but that shouldn’t be too hard. At least, I hope.

Two. What if this is some elaborate set up? What if I try to make my escape only to find Zeke and Gia waiting for me on the other end, gun in hand and a bullet in the chamber?

Three. Gia Moretti isn’t a woman I want to cross. No one in their right mind would want to cross her, but I don’t know what choice I have, not after hearing the bullshit I heard last night.

Four. Roman, Levi, and Marcus need me more than anything and there’s absolutely nothing that’s going to stand in my way. To hell with Gia and her snake-like tendencies. My mind is made up. I’m going to rescue my boys, I’m going to save their lives, and when they’re strong enough to stand with me, we’re going to tear down the whole Moretti empire.

The familiar rumble of a motorbike sounds through the walls and my head whips around to my bedroom window. I race across the room, my eyes wide and alert as I continue to fidget with the keys, the anticipation and anxiety almost too much.

Night fell a few hours ago and darkness swept across Gia’s property, but there’s enough light coming from the house to showcase the motorbike screeching out of the underground garage and down the long driveway.

I have to strain to see out of my window that overlooks the side of the property, but I don’t miss the convoy of black SUVs that trail behind it.

My breath catches in my throat.

Nobody said anything about Gia going out tonight, but why the hell would they? It’s absolutely none of my business, especially considering that she has no intention of ever handing me her fortune. I race to my door, peering around the massive upstairs area. I never see anyone up here apart from Zeke and Gia, so I assume the guards aren’t permitted on Gia’s private levels, but I’m not stupid enough to not check first.

The coast is clear, and I break out across the upstairs area, dashing toward the window that overlooks the front of the property. I keep myself hidden behind the big pillars so that if Gia takes a look behind her, she won’t be able to see my silhouette standing front and center, watching her leave.

At some point, she’s going to make her move. She’ll tell me that my boys are dead and then expect me to fight back. The longer I can delay that, the better. I don’t want to give her any reason to doubt me, especially not now.

The convoy of SUVs take off through the iron gates, and Zeke waits behind on his bike, probably in charge of securing the gate after they leave. Once the last SUV is out of the way, I watch as Zeke enters the code into the keypad and as the gate slowly closes, I swear he looks back at the house, his eyes finding me hidden behind the pillar, but he’s too far away for me to be sure.

The motorbike roars, and not wasting another second, he takes off after the SUVs just as the gate finishes closing. But just as the heavy iron closes the final gap, it bounces back as though something was blocking its locking mechanism.

My brows furrow as I watch the gate, waiting for someone to come back and secure it, but they never do. The remaining guards in the house don’t race out to fix it, and the two guards who usually stand by the front gate day and night aren’t even there.

Realization hits me like a wrecking ball. Plausible deniability.

Zeke did this to give me a way out, and when Gia has her men go over the records, they’ll see that Zeke put in the code just as normal. Just like down in the training room when Zeke all but handed me those keys without the camera ever catching it.

Fuck me. Maybe I should trust him after all.

All I know is the gate isn’t going to stay open like that for long. This is my shot, and fuck it all to hell, I’m taking it.

My gaze drops to the level below me, skimming over the two massive sets of stairs and lower into the foyer. I don’t see any guards, but Gia would never leave her home without protection. The guards are here, it’s just a question of finding out where.

Needing nothing but the key in my hand, I make my way down the steps, taking long, shallow breaths to keep as quiet as possible. I don’t hear anyone, but I have to assume that anyone hired by Gia Moretti would be ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

My feet hit the marble floor at the bottom of the steps and I pause. Gia’s private garage is to the right, but the main garage where the black SUVs park is to the left. My gaze drops down to the key. It has a symbol on it that I don’t recognize, but I’m not exactly a car person. What I do know is that there’s nothing fancy about this key. It’s just a regular car key, and I have to assume that anything parked in Gia’s personal garage would be a little fancier than this.

I go to the left.

My feet barely brush the ground as I walk, stealthy and silent like the boys trained me to be, like a lion preparing to pounce. There are three rooms I need to go through to reach the garage—a formal living area, the help’s kitchen, and a library. This shouldn’t be too hard. If anything, the remaining guards should be held up in the security room, wondering why the fuck the front gates haven’t closed properly.

Nerves flush through my body as I cross through the opening of the first room, and I do everything I can not to flip the keys around in my hand like I’d been doing up in my room. That bullshit isn’t going to do me any favors. The room is dead quiet just as I expected, and I turn my gaze, quickly scanning everything in sight.

Safe.

I move toward the help’s kitchen and my anxiety doubles. If anyone is going to catch me, this is probably where it’d be. There’s a soft whirring sound, and my eyes go wide as I spy the microwave across the kitchen. Someone’s cooking their dinner, but there’s no sign of that someone.

I keep creeping, my eyes darting from left to right when a voice cracks out behind me. “And where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I whirl around, the key immediately slipping inside the small pocket at the back of my workout shorts. A guard stands before me, covered head to toe in tattoos, and if I weren’t madly in love with three psychotic devils, this might even be the kind of guy I’d let rock my world.

Arching a brow at him, I indicate around the kitchen. “Getting a glass of water,” I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I was under the impression that I had free rein of this place. Am I wrong to assume that, or shall I give my mother a call to let her know her guards are interrogating me in my own home?”

The guard steps toward me, his eyes raking up and down my body. “Come on, baby, ain’t no need for hostility. I was just asking a question. This is the guard’s kitchen. If you’re hungry, you should be using your private kitchen.”

“Forgive me,” I say, an idea sparking as I lower my voice to a seductive whisper. “Would it be bad if I admitted that I don’t actually know where that kitchen is? This is just the first one I found.”

The guard watches me for a minute and takes a step toward me. I roll my tongue over my bottom lip, backing up and putting a nice sway into my hips as I do. His lips twist into a wicked smirk, seeing the hunger in my eyes. “Not gonna lie, this place is a fucking maze. Took me a minute to find my feet when I first started.”

“Yeah?” I question, my eyes lighting up as I move another step back until the cool stone counter brushes against my skin. I suck in a gasp, letting him see me as an innocent young woman with big doe eyes, the perfect damsel in distress. A soft giggle slips from between my lips. “You know, I think you’re the first person here who’s bothered to say a single word to me that wasn’t an order.”

He moves in even closer and there’s no doubt in my mind that out in the normal world, this guy is nothing but a predator. He shrugs his shoulders, that cocky smirk spreading wider. “What can I say?” he questions. “I’m here to serve.”

“Really, now?” I purr, my hand coming up to his chest. “A big man like you … I don’t know. You seem like trouble, and I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention, but I’ve been in a little too much trouble lately.”

He moves in even closer until his chest is pressing up against mine, his hardening cock rocking against my stomach. He takes my hips and lifts me up onto the corner of the counter before letting his hands fall to my thighs, pushing them wide as I hold back a gag. “What’s a little more trouble?” he questions, ducking his head and letting his nose skim up the side of my neck, inhaling deeply. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. Besides, who knows how long you’re going to be staying here. We might as well make it interesting.”

A grin tears across my face and I let him see just how willing I am. “Oh, yeah?” I tease. “I’m not sure you can handle it. I like a man who can throw me down, dominate me, make me scream until my legs give out.”

“Trust me, babe. You ain’t got no problems here. I can make you come so hard the fucking neighbors will know. You won’t need nothing but my cock. I bet you’re fucking tight too.”

“Yeah?” I question, biting my lip and watching the wicked temptation burning in his dark eyes. “Prove it. Show me what that tongue can do and if you can make me scream, then I’ll let you bend me over and fuck me right here on the counter.”

He groans low, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip as his fingers dig into the waistband of my tight shorts. He starts pulling them down to my hips, his gaze dropping to my cunt in anticipation and before I even lift my hips to help him remove my pants, my hand curls around the back of his head, and with all my might, I slam his head down on the corner of the counter.

A hollow thud sounds through the kitchen, and the guy doesn’t even get a chance to cry out before he crumbles to the ground like a sack of shit. I laugh, jumping down from the counter and skirting over his fallen body, rolling my eyes as I go. “Yeah fucking right, asshole,” I mutter to myself. “Credit for trying.”

And with that, I hurry out of the room, fixing the waistband of my shorts back up around my waist.

Reaching the internal garage door, I turn the handle and slip inside just as I hear a loud curse flowing from the kitchen. “Jason? Jase, man? Wake up.” There’s a short silence before a loud, “FUCK. The little bitch is gone.”

Oh, shit.

I scramble for the key in the back pocket of my shorts and hold it up, furiously pressing the little button as I hastily close the door behind me and flip the lock, hoping that somehow spares me a few extra seconds.

A soft beep, beep flows through the garage and I race toward the black SUV as scrambling sounds from the other side of the garage. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, racing toward the car, unsure just how many guards there might be coming after me.

Tearing open the door, I immediately hit the button for the automatic garage door as I frantically search the car. The seat is as far forward as it will go, and just as I find the push start button and bring the engine to life, the interior garage door flies open.

“FUCK,” one of them roars. “GET HER.”

Three guards race for the SUV, and one of them presses the garage door button, trying to pause it from opening, while the other runs out in front of the car like I won’t crush his dumb ass.

Stupid fucker. Bad move.

I hit the gas and the asshole’s eyes widen in terror before darting out of the way, barely clearing my pathway before the car screeches out of the garage, leaving thick black lines marring the pristine garage floor.

My heart races erratically as my gaze shoots up to the rearview mirror, finding the three guards scrambling, knowing it’s certain death for them if they let me get away. I almost feel bad for them. Almost.

It won’t be long before they send word to Gia. This is my one shot, and I have to make it count.

Flying down the long driveway, I pull my seat belt over me. This could be one hell of a bumpy ride, and as I speed through the open front gates, a wave of hope surges through my chest. I can do this. I can save them.

I barely get twenty seconds down the road before a set of headlights appear in my rearview mirror and hot panic courses through my veins. I don’t know where the hell I’m going and barely remember how to exit out of this stupid gated community, but I have to give it my all. The boys are relying on me, and I won’t dare let them down.

Hitting the gas even harder, I fly through the streets, hoping to God that no innocents come barreling down the road in the opposite direction. I go left then right, and with so many corners, these assholes don’t stand a chance at catching me, at least not yet.

After what feels like a lifetime, I finally exit out of this corrupt little community and floor it down the main road. I pass by angry drivers desperate to get home, and I swerve and weave through the traffic, horns blasting in my wake.

I’m not a confident driver. I lived close to the bar where I worked and never had a reason to drive very far. My reverse parking skills are as shit as they come, but tonight, I’m putting it all to the test. I follow the street signs, barely getting a chance to read them before whizzing past.

My gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror to see the guard’s SUV ducking and weaving through the traffic, just like me, but I push faster, hoping that there are no red lights or head-on collisions in my future. It’s not quite rush-hour traffic, but I also couldn’t have picked a worse time to stage my getaway. They’re only a few cars back, and I have to do something fast. I have to lose them, otherwise, I won’t stand a chance. My gut is telling me to get onto the highway, but I’m too vulnerable there, too easy to ram right off the road. I need to lose them before that, and I need to do it now.

Breaking out through the intersection, I hastily make a left from the inside lane, cringing as the oncoming traffic slams on their brakes with horns blaring, cursing me out. It was well deserved, and if I were in their position, I would have done the same thing.

The cars make a mess of the road, and I watch through the mirror as the other SUV struggles to get through. I take a right, my heart racing so fast that it begins to hurt, or perhaps that’s just the sickening anxiety pulsing through my veins. I go right and right again, going faster with each turn and hearing the reckless sound of the tires screeching around the corners. Glancing up, I don’t see the other SUV, but I don’t doubt that it’s only moments from showing up in my mirror.

I turn again and my eyes widen, finding a mall up ahead. It’s risky. The mall will slow me down, but I can ditch the car and steal someone else’s. It’ll take them too long to sift through all the other cars, and by the time they know what they’re looking for, I’ll be long gone.

Nerves race through me, but I forge ahead, pulling into the busy mall parking lot, my eyes darting from left to right until I find a dark corner. Bringing the SUV to a hasty stop, I quickly abandon it. I’d be fucked if it were the middle of the day, but the night sky above does nothing but aid me in my escape.

Not even bothering to slam the door behind me, I take off, throwing the car key onto the road and watching it skim under a row of cars. Losing myself in the crowd, I slow my pace so as to not stand out. It’ll be like some twisted version of Where’s Wally.

A woman walks ahead of me, her black hoody hanging over the back of her handbag. Going against everything I am, I follow her deeper into the rows of cars just as the other SUV appears at the parking lot entrance.

My stomach twists in knots as I duck my head, trying to keep hidden while the woman in front of me darts between an old Corolla and a Porsche. She comes to a stop—please be the Porsche—and turns toward the old Corolla. I let out a frustrated sigh. It’ll have to do.

She catches sight of me just a moment too late, and my arm comes up around her throat, curling around it as I grip my other arm in a tight lock. “I’m so sorry,” I murmur as she struggles for air and slowly crumbles. “You’re going to be okay.”

It only takes a moment until the woman passes out, and I gently lower her to the ground, completely ashamed of myself, but there’s nothing I won’t do to get to the boys. I don’t waste any precious seconds yanking her handbag off her arm and rifling through it until my fingers curl around her keys. Unlocking the car, I thumb through her wallet, taking what little cash she has as I keep my head ducked from the SUV that’s starting its lap around the lot. Placing her bag back by her side and leaving all her credit cards intact, I turn the key and let the small Corolla drum to life.

With the SUV stopping by my abandoned one, I watch as the guards bail out around the other busy shoppers as I slowly back out of the parking spot, doing everything I can not to draw attention to myself. Nerves wreak havoc on my body and my hands sweat, but before I know it, I’m taking off out of the exit with the guards left scratching their heads, completely dumbfounded, and absolutely fucked.

8

It takes me two hours to reach the famous DeAngelis mansion. I pull up outside, keeping a good distance to give me some kind of vantage before moronically storming in there. The driveway is long, but even in the dead of night, there’s an eerie silence about the place.

Not a single light shines through the property. Not even the ones that line the driveway at night. When I stayed here, they were always on, no matter what, even in the middle of the day. There’s a coldness, but I suppose that’s expected after a fucking massacre took place in the front yard.

I worry my lip, staring ahead at the property as my hands shake by my sides. My gut is screaming that they’re not here. It’s too silent, but I have to check, I have to know for sure even if it means searching every last room of the ginormous property.

Killing the headlights, I drive the shitty Corolla around the side of the property, silently impressed that the old heap of metal has made it this far. Unease rattles me as I take in the thick bushes surrounding the DeAngelis mansion. I don’t have a good track record with these bushes, but it’s the only option I’ve got.

Slipping out of the car, I let out a shaky breath and start my trek through the thick bushes, listening for any signs that I might not be alone. Swallowing hard, I forge forward, one foot sneaking down in front of the other. The last time I saw these bushes, Marcus was hiding out in them, shooting the enemies that came for us. It’s only been a week, but in that time, so much has changed. I’d give every last part of myself to be able to go back and change what happened that night.

By the time I reach the clearing at the edge of the bushland, I’m covered in sweat, not from the fifteen minutes of hiking, but from the sheer anxiety of what I might find on the other side.

Up close and personal, I see the DeAngelis home for what it is—a mass grave. Blood still stains the concrete and there’s a raw odor surrounding the property that sticks in the back of my throat. No bodies have been left behind, but that shit would be too obvious. One quick FBI drone over the top of this place would have every kind of law enforcement coming down on all of their asses, and that’s not something any of them can risk.

Fuck, that night … It wasn’t only the boys’ cousins that were slaughtered, but many of Giovanni’s men, men who probably showed up for work unaware of what Giovanni had in store for them, men who probably had families waiting for them back home.

The whole thing was a shit show, and it never should have gone down like that. Hell, never should have gone down at all.

Taking a step toward the property, I swallow down the fear of exposing myself. There’s at least a two-hundred-yard sprint between here and the actual house, until then, I’ll be out in the open, no trees, no shrubbery, nothing to keep me concealed, just me and the manicured grass.

My foot presses down into the lawn when a soft branch cracks behind me and I whip my head around, more than ready to scream until my lungs give out, but before a sound can creep up through my throat, two sets of jet black eyes sparkle through the thick trees.

I catch my breath, my eyes going wide.

It can’t be.

A moment passes and I squint through the trees, wishing I could see better, and within a breath, Dill and Doe step out of the darkness. I sink to my knees, relief washing over me as they bound toward me. I crumble onto the forest floor, sticks and moss pressing against the backs of my arms as the murder puppies get right into my face, their own version of checking me over.

“I know, I know,” I whisper, curling my arms around their big heads and meeting their haunted stares, hating the grim darkness that reflects back at me. These assholes have been through hell, just like the rest of us. They’ve had to witness things that no animal should have to see, and for that, my heart breaks for them. “We’re going to find our boys. They’re going to be alright.”

Shakily getting to my feet, I feel a million times better knowing that I have Dill and Doe at my back. They won’t let anything happen to me. Dill is proof enough. The big bastard has already taken a bullet for me, a debt that I will never be able to repay, though I’ll give him absolutely anything he wants. Endless supply of treats, tick. Scratches behind the ear, tick. A big, fat juicy steak at three in the morning, your wish is my command.

I absolutely love these wolves. They’ve become my family, my home, and knowing they’re safe and unharmed has a weight falling off my shoulders.

“Okay, guys. Are you ready?” I question, looking out across the clearing to the big house. Doe whimpers as I scratch the top of her head, but nonetheless, they fall in behind me, just as the boys trained them to do, flanking me, always having my back.

We break out into the clearing as one, and I grip the fur on the backs of their necks as they propel forward, their raw speed helping me storm across the grass so much faster than I would have managed on my own.

Within moments, we’re under the safety of the mansion, and we head around the back, sticking to the shadows. There are three back entrances, and all three are locked. I cringe at the thought of setting off an alarm, but I do what I have to do.

Grabbing one of the outdoor chairs, I hold it up and let out a shaky breath. If someone is inside, surely something would have happened by now. I use that wishful thinking as I run full steam ahead at one of the many back windows, letting the metal leg of the chair pierce through the fragile glass.

It shatters into a million pieces, the tiny fragments spreading through the back room like rain as I swallow hard and stand as still as a statue, silently listening for any hint of a disturbance inside. Nothing comes, and after a moment, I head in, gasping when the wolves follow me. “No,” I rush out, my eyes widening like saucers, but it’s too fucking late. The wolves traipse over the shattered glass as though it’s merely sand beneath their bare paws.

I gape at the big assholes. “Are you two stupid?” I demand, watching as they strut past me, their tails low and still as though they’re listening to the noises of the house just as I am. “Don’t come crying to me when your paws get all cut up and you need someone to kiss them better.”

Dill stands in front, his body taut and still, assessing the situation, and after a short moment, that tightness fades and he moves deeper into the home, Doe trailing after him. Dill glances back at me, and I wonder if he’s trying to send a message, trying to let me know that the house is safe. “Okay,” I murmur, keeping my voice low just in case. “Let’s find the guys and get out of here.”

We search for an hour and come up blank, and the more minutes that tick by, the more aware I am of the fact that Gia’s men will be out there looking for me. Their first stop should have been here and honestly, I’m a bit concerned as to why they haven’t shown up yet … unless Gia has specifically asked them not to. After all, she knows I plan on going after Giovanni. Perhaps I’m playing her game and I don’t even know it.

Doe sniffed out two hidden rooms, one behind the bookshelf in Giovanni’s office, while the other was located behind the fireplace in the main living area, both I never knew existed, but either way, they were both empty.

We found cells beneath the house just as I expected, and my blood ran cold as we made our way down there, but Dill and Doe didn’t seem phased. They kept walking, kept searching, until finally coming to the conclusion that they weren’t here.

I let out a heavy sigh as we moved back across the lawn, my feet dragging through the manicured grass. A part of me knew they weren’t going to be there, but I’d hoped for it, needed it to be true. The very idea of them lost out in the world, alone and in pain … fuck. I can’t stomach it.

The last time Giovanni had anything to do with making someone disappear, it took the boys days to find me, and that was with a lifetime of training and resources to use. I’m all alone out here, and if Giovanni has taken them somewhere like his desert cells, then I’m fucked—we’re all fucked.

Heaviness sweeps over me, and Doe pushes into my side, her big body pressing against mine. My fingers twine into her fur as my nails scratch behind her ear. “Where the hell are they?” I ask the big wolves.

Doe tilts her big head up, the jet-black eyes boring into mine as we slip into the cover of the bushes. I give her a tight smile, unsure why I’m trying to comfort the wolf as though she can understand human gestures, but on the off chance that she can, I want her to know that it’s all going to be okay.

Thinking back to everything that I know about Giovanni, I try to put the pieces together. He kept Felicity at his home cells for months before taking her to the desert cells, he put me in the desert cell with Ariana, but before that …

The boys had once mentioned that their father was using their underground playground at the castle for his own sick games … What if he’s taken them there? That would be the cherry on top of this already fucked-up shit storm. Keeping them locked up in their own fucking cells, using their own tools against them, using the space they created, it’s sick and screams of Giovanni.

They have to be there.

A newfound hope burns bright in my chest and my pace kicks into gear, rushing through the thick bushes. The wolves stick with me, helping to lead me through the dark until we finally break out the other side to find the shitty Corolla exactly where I parked it.

Tearing open the driver’s door, the wolves barrel in, cutting through the middle to find enough space for their big furry asses in the back, and before the car door has even closed behind me, the engine is roaring to life and I’m peeling off the side of the curb, anxious to get to the boys.

The drive is long, and despite the many hours that it’s taken me to get to this point, I fear that those few wasted hours today have cost me dearly.

Tension rises as if the wolves know that this is it, that what we’re about to walk into could be fatal. Silence fills the car while the wolves remain alert, their bodies held taut as though they’re ready and prepared for any kind of war, ready to make things right.

The castle approaches and nerves settle deep in my stomach.

I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, no game plan, only that I have to get in there and somehow get them out, assuming they’re still alive. Fuck, I could be walking headfirst into a trap. The boys could have died on that battlefield that same night, but I refuse to give up now.

Assuming that Giovanni is there somewhere, I don’t drive down the main road. Instead, I head straight for the thick bushland surrounding the property, desperately searching for the discreet dirt road the boys carved through the trees. It’s well after three in the morning, and the events of the night are already weighing down on me, but just the thought of being near them, getting to see and hold them, spurs me on. I’d face down absolutely anything just to hear those deep, authoritative voices one last time.

The week of thinking they were dead has wreaked havoc on my soul, and now it’s time to take back what’s mine.

Finding the narrow trail, I turn off the road and dive headfirst through the thick trees. The wolves sit up even straighter, watching the fresh hell before us as though they’re terrified that I’m about to send us hurtling off a cliff, and honestly, with the way my heart is racing and the anxiety that’s pulsing through my veins, it’s a very real possibility.

“Come on,” I mutter, my eyes snapping through the bushes, scanning every dark corner. “Where is it?”

Desperation twists my stomach into knots as I search for the small shed the boys built out here as their escape. I only got to use it a handful of times, and those few times I did, I was either on the brink of death or already out cold. I have no recollection of how long this trail is or just how deep it goes into the thick trees.

Minutes pass, and just as I’m convincing myself that I’ve made the wrong turn, the headlights reflect off a dark green shed, camouflaged to keep hidden within the trees. Had the light not hit it just right, I would have driven straight past. My foot slams on the brakes, tires screeching to a halt. I cut the engine and rush out of the car into the dark shed, with nothing but the soft moonlight showing me the way.

The wolves bound after me as I scramble through the shed, slipping past an old Escalade, which probably hasn’t been used in months. A few bottles of water lay forgotten on a low riding bench, and I quickly crack them open, giving both the wolves something to drink before finding the hatch that leads down into the long tunnel.

It’s pitch black, darker than night in the long, winding passage, and I search around for a flashlight or an old lamp to light the way but come up blank. I guess it’s just me and my memory on this one.

The wolves follow me down into the tunnel and we walk for what feels like forever, each step bringing me closer and closer to discovering my fate. The boys built the tunnel beneath the staff kitchen, leading up into the castle, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to actually get down to the playground without giving myself away. If Giovanni is inside the castle, I’m fucked. My only hope is that the place isn’t locked up like Fort Knox.

My hands shake as I reach the end of the tunnel and I groan, finding the heavy bookshelf the guys kept at the opening to conceal the tunnel. “How the fuck am I supposed to move that?” I murmur as the wolves hang back, leaving me to figure out this one on my own.

Gripping the old shelf, I suck in a breath and push with everything that I have. The fucker doesn’t budge, doesn’t do shit apart from breaking my nails. I stifle a cry, the frustration quickly getting the best of me as I try again and again, until I finally begin to inch it out of the way.

My fingers bleed, my palms ache and blister, but I don’t stop until there’s a space big enough for me and the wolves to squeeze through. We push through it, the wolves right on my heels, and we all listen hard, trying to figure out what’s going down in this prison.

The DeAngelis mansion was dead silent, but unlike that, there’s the soft vibrating whirr of the refrigerator, the subtle hum of the air conditioner, and if I listen close enough, maybe even the faint cries of a newborn baby.

My back stiffens. I hadn’t considered that. All I’d been focused on was saving the boys, but if the baby is here too, if there’s a chance that I can save him … fuck. There’s nothing I won’t do.

Making my way up to the staff kitchen, I peer around, resisting the urge to flick on the light. It’s late, there’s a good chance that Giovanni is fast asleep, but what about his guards? There’s no way a man like that could sleep in peace knowing his sons are down in the playground, each of them dreaming up the most brutal ways to murder him. No, Giovanni will need men surrounding him at all times and watching the property like hawks.

Not wanting to risk cutting through the house, I lead the wolves straight out through the staff exit. The door is unlocked, and I sigh in relief as a light sheen of sweat begins to coat my skin. The wolves follow me right out the door, and as if already having the boys’ scent, they storm around the back of the property. I hurry to keep up with them, my desperation knowing no bounds as I try to stick to the shadows.

I don’t see anyone around, no guards or cameras, so I race like a fucking maniac to the entrance of the underground playground. The wolves sail down the long, winding road with ease, and I push myself to keep up, each stride longer and more urgent than the last.

The downward plunging hill quickly levels out toward the bottom, and I stumble, falling straight to my knees. A soft cry forces it way through my clenched jaw, but I get back to my feet, my knees cut up and bleeding. I don’t turn on the big overhead lights, that’s way too obvious, but there are old oil lamps hanging along the row of cells lining each side.

The wolves take off far ahead of me to the point I don’t even see where they are, but that doesn’t matter right now. I have to find them. I have to know they’re okay.

Grabbing one of the oil lamps, I hurry through the cells, looking left to right. I find dead bodies of men I never knew, people demanding that I stop and free them, others calling me a filthy whore and trying to grab at me through the cells, but I don’t let it phase me. We can work on saving people once I have what I need. Hell, who even knows what these people did to end up down here in the first place. All I know is that these cells were empty when we left them a few short weeks ago.

The cells begin to empty out, and I shake my head, not liking this one bit. If they were down here, I would have seen them by now. I should have found them, but I keep going, refusing to stop until I’ve checked every last one.

There’s only a few more to go, but no more oil lamps light the way. There’s nothing but darkness up ahead, and with a shaky hand, I swallow hard and continue, not knowing what I might find.

Holding out the oil lamp, I try to light as much of the cells as possible. The first one on my left is empty, and dread sinks heavily into my gut as I turn to the right and hold up the light. The cell is used, dirty with pools of dried blood smeared across the cold, concrete ground. I shake my head, terrified of what I might find when a soft groan sounds through the remaining cells, deeper into the darkness.

My head whips around, my eyes wide, my heart frantic.

I know that fucking moan. I know it like I know my own fucking soul.

“Marcus?” I rush out, tears filling my eyes as I storm to the left, throwing myself up against the cold, metal bars. Thrusting the oil lamp forward, the dim light shines through the cell, and I find Marcus laying on the ground, his skin clammy and pale. “Marcus?”

He peers up at me through small slits, barely having the energy to open his eyes properly. “I knew it,” he says with a heavy, defeated sigh, sadness thick in his tone. “This is what heaven looks like.”

His eyes are glossy, and I quickly realize that he’s not really looking at me, but through me as though he doesn’t even see that I’m standing here in front of him. “Marcus, please,” I cry, dropping to my bloodied knees and reaching through the bars, trying to take his hand.

My fingers brush over his clammy skin, and his eyes open a little wider, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “So fucking beautiful.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

What should I do?

I squeeze his hand tighter, tugging on it, pulling, letting it drop heavily to the ground, anything to try and get his proper attention. “Come on, Marcus. It’s me,” I beg, tears streaming down my face. “Look at me. You’re not dead. I’m here. Snap out of it. I’m right here.”

“Empress?” The sound is whispered like a question from behind me, and I latch on to the oil lamp again, releasing Marcus’ hand and all but bolting to the dark cell over my shoulder.

I slam into the bars, my chest immediately aching as I find Roman sprawled in the back corner, slumped down against the back wall, his head hanging heavy. “Roman?” I cry, my eyes scanning over his broken body.

His head slowly rises, and the effort looks painful, but he doesn’t stop until his obsidian eyes are locked on mine, the very weight of his stare dropping me to my knees. “Told you … to run,” he breathes, letting his head fall back against the brick wall, refusing to take his eyes off mine.

I shake my head, hastily wiping my eyes. “I’m not leaving you,” I tell him, letting him hear the determination in my voice. “I’m not leaving you here to die. Where’s Levi?”

“Look at us, Empress,” he breathes, not bothering with my question. “We’re as good as dead. Save yourself.”

I shake my head, my gaze sailing over the bars, trying to figure out a way to get them out. There must be a key … something.

Spinning around, I race to the final cell in the back, dread resting heavily in my gut as I shine the oil lamp toward the bars. A body lays across the ground and I suck in a breath, finding Levi sprawled across the concrete, not moving … not … No. “Levi?” I snap, gripping onto the bars. “Levi. Oh, God, no.”

His head pulls up off the concrete, his eyes opening to tiny slits. “Shayne?” he murmurs as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing. “That you, little one?”

Relief slams through me like a fucking rocket, and I fall to the ground once again. “Yeah, Levi,” I breathe. “It’s me. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“You should have run,” he tells me, groaning as he tries to get up off the ground, only it’s too much, and he settles for half crawling, putting one knee in front of the other before collapsing to the ground. It’s just close enough for him to reach through the bars and take my hand.

I squeeze it tight, gripping on to him with everything that I can as the memory of him begging me not to look crushes me from the inside out. “Not safe for you here,” he tells me, his skin just as clammy and pale as his brothers’ … only Marcus … fuck.

Tears stream down my face as I look to the cell directly across from Levi’s to find Marcus right where I left him, murmuring sweet nothings about how beautiful I look in heaven. “He’s dying, isn’t he?”

Levi nods, and it looks as though it takes all of his energy to look up at me, his dark eyes brimming with grief. “Yeah, Shayne. It won’t be much longer now. He’s got an infection. But I’m glad he got to see your face one last time.”

I shake my head. “No,” I demand, pulling my hand out of his failing grip and scrambling to my feet, the desperation getting to me. My gaze flicks from left to right, from Levi’s cell to Roman’s and back to Marcus’. “I’m going to get you out of here. We didn’t go through everything we did, just for you guys to give up now. I won’t let you. I’m going to get you out.”

Levi gives me a sad smile, and I gape back at him, but just as horror washes over his face and his eyes widen with fear, a sharp sting slams down against the side of my neck and a body steps in behind me. “Well, well, well. It seems my new bride has returned to me.”

“EMPRESS,” Roman roars, his body crashing into the bars with a desperation that I’ve never seen from him before.

And just like that, I crumble into a broken heap at Giovanni’s feet.

9

LEVI

“Don’t fucking touch her,” I growl, my chest slamming up against the cold, metal bars as my fingers curl around them, holding so fucking tight my knuckles threaten to split right through my skin. I pull against them as if I could tear right through them, but there’s no fucking use. We built these cells to withstand a nuclear bomb.

Shayne collapses, the oil lamp crashing to the ground and sending short licks of flames sprawling across the opening in between the cells as my father laughs with a wicked enjoyment. “What a shame,” he says, his eyes glistening as he kicks his foot out, slamming into her ribs and watching her lack of response.

“I swear to fucking God,” I roar, tearing at the bars again, desperate to get to her. “If you fucking touch her, I will tear you limb from limb with my fucking teeth.”

My father scoffs, his sick gaze slowly turning to mine. “Look what’s become of you, son. You’ve turned into such an animal.” He laughs, crouching down and making a show of brushing Shayne’s hair off the side of her face, trailing his fingers down her cheek and across the soft skin of her neck. “I bet my new bride will be an animal, too. Tight and fucking slick. It’s going to be my fucking pleasure destroying her. I should thank you boys for warming her up for me, training her for what’s to come.”

Bile rises in my throat as panic courses through my veins. She’s right there in front of me, only two short steps away, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it. She’s never been so fucking far away in her life.

Roman’s horrified stare flickers toward mine, mirroring the exact same bullshit that’s etched on my face. The fucker can barely hold himself up, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t give everything he’s got left as he turns his ferocious glare on my father. “You’re going to die for this, old man,” he growls, his tone full of venom, deep and booming with a raw intensity that I’ve never witnessed from my eldest brother. He pulls against the bars of his cell, and I swear for just a moment, I see them rattle, but I could be seeing things.

We’ve been down in these fucking cells for …. fuck, I don’t know how long. We’re in a constant state of darkness, unsure when the sun rises and falls. My guess, maybe four or five days. All I know is that my father has done everything in his power to keep us suffering.

Our bodies had barely hit the concrete of our cells before Marcus started showing signs of infection. We all were, and true to his fucked-up nature, my father went and offered us antibiotics and gauze to dress our wounds, but the asshole only supplied enough for two of us, so no matter what, we were going to sit here and watch our brother die.

“SHAYNE,” I roar, knowing there’s no point. She can’t fucking hear me. Whatever he shot into her system knocked her out cold, but I have to try. She has to fight back. It’s our only fucking chance.

Marcus’ head whips up from the ground, drenched in sweat as his dying eyes take in the scene before him. “Shayne?” he questions, his eyes widening in fear, snapping out of his hallucination, and quickly realizing that this isn’t a fucking dream, that she’s right here in front of us. So close, but so damn far out of our reach. It’s a cruel fucking game. He may have made it this far but, watching him hovering over her with a sick delight sparkling in his eyes, he’s going to wish he were dead.

Terror rips across Marcus’ face, feeling that same wave of helplessness that Roman and I have been riding since the second she showed up down here. “No,” he breathes, shoving his hand beneath himself to drag his heavy body across his cell, trying to get closer to the bars, closer to our girl.

My father has done everything in his power to draw out his death. Giving him just enough water to keep him alive, but not enough to help his suffering. Every minute he gets worse, every minute begging for the sweet relief of death.

If I could, I’d fucking do it for him. I’d curl my hands around my brother’s head and snap his neck in an instant, putting him out of his misery, and fuck, I know Roman is thinking the same damn thing. He’s my blood, my brother in every definition of the word. He’s had my back my whole fucking life, and as much as it’d kill me to do it, I’d do it for him.

I watch in horror as my father’s arms slip under her body, and I shake my head as he lifts her from the ground, threatening to take the one thing that truly matters in this fucked-up world. “No, no, no,” I breathe, the fear like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Shayne lolls in my father’s arms, her head back at an awkward angle, and I want to fucking scream as helplessness courses painfully through my veins. Not even when she was held in my father’s dungeons, did I feel this helpless. I knew she would survive that, but this … this is going to destroy her.

Marcus stares up at my father, tears in his eyes. “Don’t do this,” he begs. “Take me. I’m dead anyway. Torture me, slit my fucking throat, play whatever sick games you have to play, just leave her out of this.”

My chest aches with his fucking words, but I don’t dare force him to stop. As sick as it sounds, Marcus is a dead man, and if he’s willing to spend his last hours on earth in the worst kind of torment to save the love of his life, then I’m not one to tell him no. He knows that when the time comes, we will make good on our promises and our father will pay for this. Marcus has an unwavering faith in us, just as Roman and I would if we’d been in his position.

But fuck … to lose Marcus?

I can’t. The idea of losing him to my father’s hands, having him suffer more than he already is, sends a hollow ache through my chest. It needs to be quick. He needs to be put out of his misery.

My father turns to leave, and I feel myself crumble, knowing exactly what he plans for her. He’s done nothing but torment us with his games, explain to us in grave detail what he plans on doing to her, and it’s a reality I simply can’t take.

He looks down at Marcus with pity, but I don’t miss the laughter in his eyes. “Such a waste,” he says, looking at his son as he adjusts Shayne in his arms and pulls his gun. A surge of hope fires through me. All he needs to do is pull the trigger and Marcus will be free from this agony. “I should put you out of your misery,” my father says, holding the gun directly toward Marcus in a kill shot. “I should put you down like a fucking animal, but I’m not nearly done with you yet. Not for a long time, son.”

And with that, he disappears into the darkness, taking our girl with him.

Roman crumbles, dropping to his knees as he desperately clutches the bars, his head falling forward as Marcus weeps in the cell beside me. It fucking kills me.

I stumble back in my cell until my back slams against the concrete, my head falling back with a heavy thud.

“We failed her,” I murmur, knowing they’re thinking it and feeling it just as hard as I am.

There’s not a goddamn thing we can do. She should have fucking listened when we told her to run and never look back. She’s fucking stubborn, and despite not voicing our fears, we knew there was a possibility this could happen, that she’d foolishly risk it all just for the off chance that she could save us from this hell.

“He’s going … to kill …” Marcus lets his words fall away, not having the strength to keep fighting, but he doesn’t have to, I know exactly what he intended to say because I feel it just as strongly as he does, the words are all but fucking burned into my skin.

My father is going to kill Shayne Mariano, and he’s going to fucking enjoy it, but only after he’s stripped her of every last piece of dignity and will to live that she possesses. He’s going to destroy her.

Roman slowly shakes his head as he calls on all of his energy just to look up and meet our eyes across the dark cells. “No. No,” he says, refusing to believe it. “Shayne is strong. She defies all odds, has since the beginning. She’ll get through this. She’ll save us from this, all we have to do is give her the chance to do it.”

I shake my head, the idea like poison in my chest. I can’t afford this kind of hope to pull me down, offering me some kind of peace that’s never going to come. Maybe he’s saying it for Marcus’ benefit, to give him something to fight for. Give him just the smallest ray of hope as he slowly fades away. It’s a kindness we should have offered him days ago.

“Not … possible,” Marcus says, struggling to get the words out.

“It wasn’t possible for her to survive the bathtub or the fucking shit I did to her after you got shot, but she did. She’s a fighter, Marc. Believe it. She’s coming for us, and when that happens, you better be alive because after what she’s about to suffer through, she’s going to need you. We’re all going to fucking need you.”

Roman turns his dark gaze on me, silently demanding that I believe his every word. “You really believe that?” I question. “You think she can pull through this?”

Roman nods, his skin growing clammy again. “If anyone can do it, it’s Shayne. She’s coming for us, brother,” he says, the conviction and complete faith in her clear in his eyes. “And ain’t nothing standing in her way. She made it this far, Levi. She won’t give up now.”

Letting out a heavy breath, I nod. On some level, I know that he’s right, despite my fear of what she has to go through in order to get to that point. “She’s not going to come out of this the same girl she was.”

“No, she won’t,” he admits. “Which is exactly why we need to save our strength. We need to be ready for her when she comes because she will burst through here, guns blazing, and she’s going to need us at her back, prepared and ready to take what’s ours.”

10

SHAYNE

A piercing cry cuts through the darkness, and my eyes snap open to a familiar room that instantly sets me at ease, until I remember that I’m not supposed to be here.

I’m in my room, the one I occupied at the top of the boys’ prison castle, and for just a moment, I almost convince myself this is all a shitty dream, that we’re back at the castle with the boys asleep in their bedrooms, that the war at the DeAngelis mansion was just a bad dream, and that they weren’t taken from me, that my mother isn’t a lying piece of shit … that Giovanni didn’t just shoot up my veins with some kind of bullshit and take me prisoner, yet again.

My head aches and my body is heavy, but when the cry sounds again, determination spears through me. I try to sit up, but the heaviness in my arms and legs is much worse than I feared. Realizing that I’ve been tied down, the panic immediately begins to rise.

“What the fuck?” I breathe. This can’t be happening again. I was so close. All I had to do was get their cells open and find a way to break them free, then we would have been out of there, but Giovanni had other plans.

Pulling against my binds, tears spring to my eyes knowing exactly what he intends to do to me. After all, he doesn’t call me his new bride for nothing.

I have to get out of here. I can’t become a slave to his sick desires, I won’t.

I’m alone in my room, and while everything feels so familiar, there’s something off about it. The afternoon sun streams through the small window, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Perhaps it’s the loneliness. Before, I had the boys just down the hall. I had Levi’s incessant drumming and Marcus’ howling laughter, but all I hear now is a crying that’s so fucking loud it makes me fear for the innocent soul it’s coming from.

A fucking newborn cry.

The baby. Roman’s baby.

Hope surges through me. Maybe being here is a good thing. This might be exactly what we’ve been needing to get close to Roman’s son. It takes all of two seconds for the daunting memories to come slamming back to me, remembering the wicked words Giovanni spat at his eldest son, taunting him with the truth.

It’s not Roman’s baby at all.

It’s Giovanni’s, and despite having no right to swoop in and try to save that little angel, I sure as hell am going to try. What other choice do I have? The boys are down in the cells dying. Roman and Levi looked like they were struggling, but they still have time. Marcus though … I’ve never seen someone quite so close to death.

It won’t be long, Levi had murmured to me. Those four words gutted me.

The rush of emotion I felt as I searched through those dreadful cells was overwhelming, and the surge of hope when I found them was short-lived. They were alive, but not knowing how to free them or get them to safety made me feel like a failure. Their bodies, starved and depleted, weren’t strong enough to get back to the car. The long tunnel would have been too much for them to handle, and Marcus? How was I going to help him? Drag his ass the whole way? The boys would have tried to hold him up, but it would have been too much. The walk alone would have killed him.

All those unknowns meant nothing the second I felt Giovanni’s presence, and I knew I was fucked. I could see it in Levi’s eyes, the fear and agony in knowing what lays in store for me. Fuck. I should have taken Giovanni out first. I should have made a better plan, but I was too caught up with needing to see the boys alive. I was an idiot, and now I’m here, tied to my old fucking bed with a newborn screaming in the next room.

Someone please tend to that fucking baby. He’s in distress, he needs food or a new diaper … or … I don’t fucking know. I don’t know shit about babies, but I know they need attention and love, something he’s clearly not been getting. He would have been so happy with us. We would have been able to offer him a nice, loving home, but now I don’t know if Roman even wants to try. Does he still want him? Would he still want that final piece of Felicity even knowing the baby is his brother?

Shit. So much has gone down, so much that I haven’t had a chance to work through shit with the boys, but what’s the point? What’s the point of suffering through all of this if it’s only going to end in tragedy?

My heart races with the unknown as I worry my lip, biting it until it begins to swell. I have no fucking idea how all of this is going to go down. I don’t know if it’s going to be violent or if I’ll be drugged. I don’t know if he’s going to claim my name and then throw me aside, or if he intends to destroy me on a much deeper level. Perhaps he’ll just sign the marriage papers and immediately put a bullet through my head … A girl can only dream.

I can’t find it in me to give a shit about what a marriage between us truly means for the Moretti family. Maybe a week ago I would have given a shit, but I’m being used as a pawn in a war that was never mine, and I simply don’t give a shit anymore. If Giovanni wants to infiltrate the Moretti fortune, then that’s Gia’s problem. As for me, I’ll fight my own fucking war the only way I know how—me with the fucking boys at my back. That’s all I’ve ever needed in this world.

Hours pass as I lay in this stupid bed, a bed that holds so many of my darkest secrets and memories with the boys, but I don’t dare allow myself to fall victim to them. Time and place, and this isn’t it.

The quiet footsteps of servants pace up and down the hall to tend to the baby, but no one comes to check on me. His raspy wails calm momentarily, only for him to be left alone again to scream. His poor cries play like a torturous loop over and over again.

There are murmurs outside my door which quickly fade away, only to return minutes later. The soft voices in the hall come more often, and I can’t help but feel that something is happening. My time is quickly running out.

My fingers bleed from trying to break through my binds, and by the time my wrists and ankles are red and raw, my bedroom door flies open, three of Giovanni’s men storming toward me. My eyes widen, and I let out a piercing scream as a blade catches in the light.

Fuck, I’m dead.

The guards bear down on me as sheer panic and terror take over me. I watch the guy with the knife as his friend grabs hold of me and presses his weight down. “GET OFF ME,” I scream, certain that I’m about to become a toy for them to pass around.

The third guard strides through to my private bathroom as the big one keeps holding me down, my eyes flicking from left to right. The one with the knife steps into my side and I watch him like a fucking hawk, waiting for the right time to bring my knee up and crush his nose back inside his skull, but it never comes. Instead, the sharp blade slices through my binds.

For a moment I stare in surprise, wondering if these are Gia’s men coming to take me back to her prison, but when the big guy grabs me and hauls me off my bed, all sense of false security falls from my mind.

I barely get my feet under me as he shoves me hard toward my private bathroom, jabbing me in my bruised ribs. “STOP,” I scream, fighting his hold, but my body is too weak, too heavy from whatever Giovanni shot into my neck. “GET OFF ME. LET ME GO.”

The asshole rears back and slaps me as I dig my nails into his face, then he shoves me through the bathroom door with a grunt of disgust. Hot steam flows through the room, and I hear the familiar sound of a shower. The biggest guard holds me still as the third man steps in behind me and grips the back of my training crop, tearing it down the center. While I struggle against my assailant's hold, desperate to keep the scrap of fabric in place across my chest, the third man fists the material of my shorts and slides his blade straight through them. The big guard rips the dangling scraps of clothing from my body until I'm bare in front of them.

All three of them look at my body with disgust before the big dude grips my arm and launches me into the scalding water. I try to scramble away from the burning water as the big dude glares at me, letting me know that the task he’s been given is clearly beneath him. “Bathe,” he spits. “You have two minutes.”

Not one of them goes to move, and humiliation washes over me as I commit their faces to memory, knowing that I will take sweet pleasure in ending their lives when the time is right. Having no choice, I quickly wash myself and shampoo my hair. Just when I think I’m done, a razor bounces across the floor of the shower, clattering against the tiles. “Shave,” the big guy says, his eyes sparkling with a silent, wicked laughter. “Everything.”

Clenching my jaw, I cower in the corner as I scoop up the razor, doing everything I can to keep my most private parts hidden. I drag the razor over my legs, trying hard not to think about what they’re preparing me for.

With humiliation brimming high in my chest, I make quick work of it, knowing damn well that if it were any of the boys I was preparing for, I would have put a lot more care and attention into it, but I honestly couldn’t give a fuck right now.

Insisting that I’ve been in the shower long enough, the dude who stripped me reaches in and grips my arm, yanking me back out, scoffing as I slip across the wet tiles. A towel falls over my head and I quickly collect it, wrapping it around me the best I can. “Can I pee, or do I need an audience for that too?” I snap.

Big dude waves his hand toward the toilet. “By all means, princess. Ain’t nobody stopping ya.”

Fucking hell.

If I thought I’d get a chance to pee later, I’d hold it, but it’s been hours, and my body is starting to ache. It’s well into the late afternoon and Giovanni took me in the early hours of the morning. I’ve already lost all sense of dignity after having these assholes standby to watch me shave, what else have I got to lose?

I make it quick, dropping down on the toilet and using the towel to cover me as I try to tune them out, but that’s easier said than done. Three sets of leering eyes are hard to ignore at the best of times, but when those leering stares are from assholes like this, all I want to do is slit each and every one of their throats.

Scrambling off the toilet, I quickly flush and pull the towel tighter around me. The big guy in charge grips my arm again, pulling me through the door and into the bedroom as my hair drips all over the shitty carpet. I’m thrown down against the bed as one of the guards moves into my closet and appears a moment later with a big box. He dumps it at my feet before pulling out a hair dryer and curling iron and thrusting them at me. He tips the box upside down, letting hair pins and makeup sprawl across the floor. “Get ready,” he says, looking at all the stuff as though he has no idea what any of it is actually for.

Letting out a huff, I rifle through the contents, knowing all too well that if I don’t look a particular way, I’m only going to be told to start again. I hesitantly rise and move across the room to the dresser, dumping everything on top of it and staring at myself through the mirror. The guards hover way too close, but as long as they keep their hands to themselves, this is a task I can oblige without argument.

After drying my long hair, I plug the curler into the outlet and picture how good it would feel to shove the searing hot tongs up each of their asses and burn them from the inside out, but then the smell of burning shit would probably scar me for a lifetime.

I make quick work of putting my hair up and slathering on a face that doesn’t reflect my own with false lashes and smokey eyeshadow. I don’t bother with lipstick, just put a soft gloss over my lips before brushing a light blush over my cheeks. I don’t put much effort into it, but they look at me with dead eyes, having no idea if what I’ve managed to achieve is actually considered good or not.

Turning to face them, I cross my arms over my towel-covered breasts. “What now?” I spit, not wanting to prolong the inevitable. The sooner I face my demons, the sooner I can figure out how to defeat them.

The guard who came in with the knife indicates toward my closet, and I see a white garment bag hanging over the open door. My stomach sinks.

A wedding dress.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, shaking my head in understanding. “That asshole doesn’t waste any time.”

“Just get dressed,” the big guard says, clenching his jaw in irritation. “And don’t skimp on the lingerie. Giovanni is very particular with how he expects his women to dress. Lace is best,” he spits. “Oh, and don’t forget to smile. A DeAngelis wife must always smile.”

“Fuck you.”

“If you weren’t about to become my boss’s bride,” he says, his eyes darkening, “I would have fucked you the moment I walked into this room and found you tied down.”

I scoff, crossing the room and trying to ignore the heated stares coming from him and his asshole friends. “What’s the matter, asshole? Couldn’t get a woman on her knees without the need to rape her? Tough break. Don’t blame them though,” I say, letting my eyes drag up and down his body in disgust. “You’re certainly no treat, and don’t act like I didn’t see your micro cock straining through your pants while I showered. No woman in her right mind would want that. Now, your friend,” I say, glancing at the dude who released me from my binds. “He has something to work with.”

He roars in anger, and as he storms toward me, I step into the closet and wait just a moment before slamming the door so hard it crushes against his face. Sick laughter tears through me as I pull the zipper down on the garment bag and get the first look at the stupid silk wedding gown that Giovanni expects me to wear, only the laughter dies down as the piercing wail of the baby in the next room tears through the walk-in closet.

My heart shatters.

Hang in there, little guy. I’m coming for you, and then I promise, you’ll get to meet all three of your big brothers. You’ll be safe, and loved, and warm. You’ll never want for anything. Just give me a little more time.

After rifling through my underwear drawer, I pick out the most hideous lingerie I can find before taking the dress off the hanger and reluctantly putting it on, hating how it fits me perfectly, and damn it, it’s really fucking beautiful.

A tear streaks down my face.

Today I get married to the wrong DeAngelis.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I quickly wipe my face and pull on a pair of heels that work nicely with the gown. The matching veil slides effortlessly into my hair, and I let it fall over my face before opening the closet door and preparing to face the devil.

The boys told me that I should have run and never turned back, and up until this very moment, I refused to hear them. I wanted nothing more than to come back here and do what I could to save them, but I hear them now. I hear the agony in their voices, the desperation for me to allow myself a better life, even if that meant being on the run forever.

I didn’t hear them until now.

Now, I’ve never wanted to run so fast in my fucking life.

11

The church is massive, and I immediately hate it.

Grandfather DeAngelis sits at the very front, a sick grin resting on his old, decrepit lips as familiar faces fill the pews around me. The whole DeAngelis family—or what’s left of it—must have shown up for Giovanni’s big moment.

He stands at the top of the aisle, watching me like a hawk, his eyes glistening with a million dark secrets, and with each step I take down the long aisle, bile rises higher in my throat.

My heart races, erratically thundering in my chest, and I barely hear the soft music over the loud thumping of my pulse in my ears. People stare at me left and right, and I can only imagine what they’ve been told of the union, of what it could mean for the DeAngelis family to secure the only living heir to the Moretti fortune, plus the added kick in the famous DeAngelis sons’ balls that their father has stolen the one remaining thing that’s important to them—me.

With each step down the aisle, I remind myself that without getting through this, I stand no chance at getting close to the boys again. If I run now, I risk it all. Plus, I have maybe two or three hundred mafia men to deal with in this very room. Running isn’t an option, not unless I want a bullet in the back.

The priest standing in the center of the aisle to Giovanni’s right looks like he’s going to be sick, and I hope to God that this guy is on my side, that he’s maybe written some loophole into the vows, some way for me to get out, but Giovanni is too smart to be played like that. I can guarantee that the whole does anybody object to this union part is probably going to be accidentally forgotten. And hell, where the fuck is Gia? I know she doesn’t give two shits about me, but surely it’s in her best interests to do something about this. On second thought, it’s also in my best interests for her not to be here right now, at least not yet. She’s more than welcome to come and ‘rescue’ me once I have the boys safe and sound.

Stepping up in front of Giovanni, my stomach twists, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from lashing out. A man like this won’t hesitate to put me in my place, especially in front of all these people.

The soft background music begins to fade, and my hands grow clammy with sweat. I swallow hard, my stare locked on Giovanni’s as he watches me, his hard, dark eyes are so similar to Roman’s that it kills something within me. “Don’t play any games,” he warns me, his tone low and private. “Nobody needs to get hurt today.”

My jaw clenches and I resist the need to cry as the priest begins to speak, welcoming the guests to the grandest wedding of the year, uniting two families for the sake of peace. Realizing that this whole thing is going to be a pile of flaming bullshit, I let my mind wander back to the boys and the happy memories we shared. We’ll get back there again. I know we will. There’s just one more hurdle that we need to make it over before we can find our peace.

I don’t hear another fucking word the priest says as I do my part at the front of the church. Giovanni holds my stare hostage the whole time. Minutes pass, or it could be hours, I honestly don’t know. I’m so fucking numb that nothing matters to me right now.

Marcus … that spark in his eye. It was gone.

I whimper.

Giovanni reaches for my hands, gripping them in his own so fucking tight that an agonizing crack fires through my pinky. “Careful,” he warns me as I hold back a ferocious scream. “Don’t force me to break another.”

Tears well in my eyes but I don’t dare let them fall as the priest steps closer between us. “Your vows,” he says, glancing toward Giovanni expectantly before turning to me, a flicker of sadness in his closed off stare.

“Indeed,” Giovanni says, the darkness fading behind his eyes as he puts on a show for his loyal guests. He adjusts his hold on my hand and fire burns through my finger as he fixes me with a soft smile, fakeness tearing across his features. A moment passes before he steps a little bit closer, unable to keep his smile from turning into a sneer. “I, Giovanni Roman DeAngelis, take thee, Shayne Alexandra Moretti, to be my lawful wedded wife, to hold from this day on. Till death do us part.”

His grip tightens on my hands, and it doesn’t take a genius to realize that there was a whole lot of to love and to cherish and in sickness and in health left out of those vows, but what else should I have expected? Giovanni has literally just vowed to hold me as his wife, in any uncertain capacity, until I die, and that knowledge has dread sinking into my stomach.

He releases one of my hands and digs into the pocket of his tux before withdrawing it again. A thin gold band rests in the palm of his hand, and he quickly jams it onto my finger before gripping my hand once again.

The priest turns to me with arched brows, silently inviting me to declare my vows, but I bite down on my tongue. It’s not like I’m going to stand by what I’m forced to say today, but I also thought that the first time I recited these words would be when I was standing in front of the love of my life—perhaps I would have ended up marrying one of the boys, assuming they would be able to decide between them which one got to do the honor. But this … I never wanted any part of this.

Giovanni’s hands tighten around mine and a pained squeal escapes my lips. “Do I need to remind you of what is at stake if you were to fail here today?” he says, my mind immediately going to the three loves of my life down in the castle cells. “Get on with it.”

I swallow hard and a single tear falls down the side of my face as I glance out at the hundreds of DeAngelis family members gathered in the church, not one of them with the balls to do anything about this. Turning back to Giovanni, I give him exactly what he wants. “I Shayne Alexandra Mariano—”

“Moretti,” Giovanni snaps, his eyes blazing with fire. “Shayne Alexandra Moretti. That is what’s on your birth certificate, and that is the name in which you will make your vows. Start over.”

Murmured laughter fills the big church, and the sound echoes up into the high ceilings as humiliation washes over me. I’ve never seen a copy of my birth certificate, so really, how the fuck am I supposed to know what’s written on it? Taking a slow, deep breath, I start over, my tone filled with a thick, lethal venom. “I, Shayne Alexandra Moretti,” I spit through a clenched jaw, “take thee Giovanni Roman DeAngelis to be my wedded husband.”

Another tear streaks down my face and my gaze falls away, feeling absolutely dead inside. A moment passes before Giovanni squeezes my hand again, sending searing hot pain shooting right up through my arm. “Get on with it.”

I can’t fucking do this.

Anger pours through me, and I yank my hand out of his hold, tearing the ring off my finger and throwing it down to the ground, letting it roll far beneath the pews to never be found. “Fuck you.”

Murmurs rumble through the church and I expect a hand to slap across my face or a gun to be lodged into the side of my head, but Giovanni just smiles with a twisted enjoyment. He indicates to a man sitting in the front row, holding out his hand.

The guy smirks and stands before passing him a phone and retreating back to his seat, straightening his suit jacket in the process. Giovanni doesn’t speak a fucking word as he silently turns the phone around to show me the screen, laughter brimming in his dark eyes.

My world falls as I take in the phone, looking at the live stream from down in the playground. I shake my head, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “No,” I cry, yanking the phone right out of his hand as I find Marcus beaten and bloodied, slumped in the corner of his cell with a man standing over him, gun aimed right between his eyes.

Failure tears through me, and as I look back up at Giovanni, I know that he wouldn’t hesitate to take the final shot to end Marcus. He’s always been the one to challenge Giovanni, always the one to call him out on his bullshit in the most infuriating ways. Levi has learned to keep his mouth shut while Roman would just do whatever his father requests of him in order to keep the bullshit from falling on his brothers’ shoulders. But not Marcus. He’s brave … or maybe just really fucking stupid, and I know that deep down, maybe letting the man shoot him and put him out of his misery would be a blessing for Marcus at this point, but I can’t bear the thought of losing him. Marcus is strong, he can pull through this. He just needs someone to save him, someone to give a shit. He needs a fucking guardian angel, and that’s exactly what I plan to be.

My mind swirls with grief as I stare down at Marcus, broken and bleeding, and I barely even notice Giovanni’s hand snapping out toward the phone before it’s already gone. “Shall we?” he demands, knowing damn well that he’s backed me into a corner, forcing my hand, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Tears fog my vision, and I blink them back as a lump forms in my throat, making it nearly impossible to speak. Giovanni slips the phone into his suit pocket and takes my hands once again, squeezing them tight. But this time, I don’t feel the pain. I am completely numb.

Trying to remember where I was in my vows and what comes next, I glance at the priest who looks as white as a ghost, clearly having seen the screen of the phone and realizing just how deep this shit goes. “I … I can’t remember the words.”

The priest nods and glances toward Giovanni, his jaw clenches before looking back at me. “Repeat after me,” he says, before starting the vows over. “I, Shayne Alexandra Moretti, take thee, Giovanni Roman DeAngelis, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I speak the words that will crush everything that I am. “I, Shayne Alexandra Moretti, take thee, Giovanni Roman DeAngelis, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

“To have and to hold from this day on,” the priest continues.

“To have and to hold from this day on.”

Giovanni’s grin widens and I listen to the next part of the vows. “For better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”

My stomach churns at the thought of having to say this, but thinking of Marcus down in that cell, I force the words through my teeth. “For better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.”

The priest looks grim, but reluctantly continues. “To love and to cherish until death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance, I pledge myself to you.”

Closing my eyes, I let the words consume me, break down every little piece of myself that I have left and allow them to turn everything to dust, leaving me as nothing more than a hollow shell. These words are binding, and while I have no intention to stand by them, they make me feel as though a leash has been tightened around my throat. But the boys …

I say the fucking words. “To love and to cherish until death do us part, according to God’s holy ordinance, I pledge myself to you.”

Giovanni grins, his eyes glistening with untold secrets and plans for what my future may hold, each one of them, I’m positive, is worse than the next. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it, wife?” Giovanni taunts. “It’s what comes next that’s really going to make you squirm. Only from what I hear, you like being held down and fucked, don’t you? You’re a whore, but from this day on, you’re mine to do with as I please.”

Darkness swirls through me, and I choke back the tears, knowing there’s no way in hell that I’ll be able to escape this unharmed, untouched. No matter how quickly I can find my freedom, Giovanni won’t wait to dirty me, won’t wait to hammer that final nail into his sons’ coffins. It’ll be his sick game and it will destroy me.

The priest glances at Giovanni. “You may kiss your bride,” he says flatly, disgusted with the events that just took place, though something tells me that there’s absolutely nothing he could have done about it. I don’t doubt he’s got skin in the game too, a precious life being threatened to ensure his cooperation.

Giovanni wastes no time, stepping into me. He twists my hand around my back, bending my broken finger in the process, forcing a cry out of my mouth, and just as my lips part, he presses his mouth to mine, sinking his tongue into my mouth as tears of pain and disgust stream down my face.

It doesn’t last long but leaves a foul taste in my mouth. The need to hurl pulses through me but before I can, Giovanni is forcing me back down the aisle as his loyal family applauds his new marriage.

12

The black SUV pulls to a stop at the top of the big circle driveway, and I stare up at the castle. There used to be a time that I liked being here. I liked waking up in this prison knowing the boys were there, and that despite everything shitty in the world, I had a place to call home.

Not anymore. I’m dreading walking back into that castle more than I hated it those first few weeks as the boys’ prisoner. I was petrified and certain that death was knocking on my door, and now, I’m right back there, only I know exactly what’s in store for me.

Giovanni is going to consummate the marriage. He’s going to hold me down and fuck me until I bleed. My only saving grace is that a man like Giovanni would most likely have a micro cock and last less than five seconds. It’ll be over quickly, but that doesn’t take away from how brutal and painful it’s going to be, the havoc it will rain down over my mental wellbeing, the pride I’ll lose, or the way I’ll be left with no dignity.

How the hell am I supposed to walk back in there knowing what’s waiting for me?

The driver, who doubles as one of Giovanni’s many guards, pushes out of the car and storms around to the back as my heart thunders. Giovanni took his own car, leaving me with a two-hour drive to stew on everything that just happened … everything that’s going to happen.

Fuck.

The door opens and I shrink away as the guard leans in and grabs my arm. I pull back but the fucker is too strong, and I’m too defeated. He drags me out of the SUV and my body drops heavily to the asphalt. My knees scrape through the white silk, and as he hauls me to my feet, the dress catches on the loose stones, tearing the fabric with ease.

“No,” I cry, pleading with everything that I am. “Please. Please don’t take me back there. Please.”

The guard ignores my every cry as he drags me up the big entrance steps of the castle. Dread sinks heavier with each step, and by the time we reach the top, I’m clawing at his arm, all but shredding his flesh to ribbons.

The guard presses his hand to the scanner, and it flashes green before the automatic lock clicks and the door releases. The guard struggles to hold on to me, and I use it to my advantage, remembering every last thing Zeke and the boys have taught me.

I bring my elbow around in a quick arc and slam it down over his arm, hitting him right in the soft spot below his bicep. The guard cries out in agony and I tear my arm free from his strong grip before hightailing it back down the steps.

Not today, asshole!

My feet slam against the stairs, taking two at a time, and I concentrate with everything that I have, knowing damn well that coordination simply isn’t my thing. The likelihood of misstepping and sending my ass flying over my head is too great. I haven’t exactly had the best luck lately, and now really isn’t the time to test that theory.

The guard bounds after me, and I don’t dare waste a second looking back, but if the sound of his feet against the steps is anything to go by, the fucker is gaining quickly.

My heart thunders wildly, and I resist the urge to scream, needing to conserve whatever energy I have left. I haven’t eaten or drank even a sip of water since leaving Gia’s home. That was barely even twelve hours ago, but so much has happened since then, so much of my energy has been drained and I won’t get far before this asshole is bearing down on me.

My feet hit the asphalt and I sprint like a motherfucker, but the guard is behind me in seconds, his arms locking around my waist as he throws us down to the ground. My jaw crushes against the hard driveway, and I cry out, certain that something is broken. “You think I fucking enjoy this?” the guard spits in my ear. “You're not the only one with something to fucking lose. Stop fighting me.”

My elbow barrels back into his throat and he releases his hold on me just enough for me to begin scrambling out from under him, but he’s not having any of my bullshit today. Apparently, it’s been a long day for everyone, and I almost feel sorry for the prick. I can only imagine what Giovanni is holding against him to force him to do his bidding, but I can’t force myself to care. His problems are his alone. I have my own issues, and I won’t be blamed for the position he got himself in.

He lashes out, gripping my ankle and yanking me back before I get a chance to take off, and my body crumbles back to the driveway, my white gown well and truly fucked now. He gets a good hold of me, pulling my arms behind my back and I fear that my shoulders may pop out of their sockets. Pain tears through me as the guard hauls me up off the ground, keeping at my back and disabling any chance of getting away. “Fucking grin and bear it,” he spits in my ear. “Whether you like it or not, you’re his now. There ain’t no escaping it. So do yourself a favor and just get it over and done with. The sooner you let him fuck you, the sooner he’ll leave you the hell alone.”

I swallow hard, knowing he’s right, but I can’t accept it. He’s going to destroy me. He’s going to take everything that I have and he’s going to use the boys to do it.

I can’t … I can’t allow this to happen.

A sob tears from deep in my throat as he forces me back up the stairs. Every step feels like lead in my soles, dragging me down as tears stream down my face. Fear settles deep into my gut, and for a moment, I wonder if this is what Jasmine felt like, terrified of what was about to happen to her.

No … no, I shouldn’t compare this to the fresh hell Jasmine suffered through. She was bound and gagged, stolen out of her home and brutally raped. This is … it’s different. I came back here to save the boys knowing there was a possibility that Giovanni would get me. I knew what he wanted, and I still came, risking it all just to see that the boys were alive.

They’re going to hate me for allowing myself to get into this position. They told me to run, and I refused to listen, but in the end, if I can get them out, if I can save them, it’ll all be worth it, right?

Fuck.

The guard gets me through the front door and the massive castle seems so much smaller now. He doesn’t waste time getting me back up to my room and the soft cries of the baby deeper in the castle are the only thing that can take my mind off what’s going to happen.

He throws me down on my bed and I crumble, my will to fight quickly dissipating, but when he comes down on top of me and flips me over, I stare up at him with wide eyes. “What are you—”

His thighs press down on either side of my chest, locking my arms by my side as he grips my jaw with one hand. I try to pull away, terrified of what he might want from me when a small pill appears in his other hand. He forces it into my mouth and before I can even attempt to spit it back at him, a jug of water pours down over my face. I sputter against the water, but he keeps my mouth open, forcing me to swallow or risk drowning in it, and only when the pill effortlessly slides down my throat does he let up.

Water drenches my face and my bed as the prick places the jug back on the small bedside table. “You’re going to thank me for that,” he mutters, climbing off me.

He doesn’t say another word, just simply turns his back and walks out the door, locking it behind him.

I gasp for air and throw myself off my bed, my head already beginning to feel woozy. What the fuck did he just give me? A roofie? Or something so much worse?

The door handle jiggles, and my eyes bug out of my head, terror raining down on me. I hear the deep tones of Giovanni’s voice and race across the room, slamming the door of the private bathroom and shoving my face over the toilet, forcing whatever the fuck I just swallowed to come right back up. It’s one thing being drugged and raped, but not being able to fight back … hell no.

Violent heaves take over my body as I shove my fingers down my throat, forcing it up while listening to the sound of a key sliding into the lock.

Fuck. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

I hurl again and again, my body quickly growing weaker by the second. Whatever he gave me is dissolving into my body fast, and I can only assume that it’s something so much worse than a roofie.

I shakily get to my feet, falling forward and catching myself against the tiled wall of the bathroom. My head spins, my body growing weaker and weaker. One foot presses in front of the other and I stumble again, barely gripping on to the towel rack to keep myself up.

I come out into the bedroom and my eyes go wide, finding Giovanni standing before me, a twisted smirk stretched across his face. “You’re mine now, Shayne. There’s no point fighting it.”

My jaw clenches and I push forward, determined to fight for everything it’s worth. “I’ll never be yours,” I spit, tearing the ring from my finger and throwing it at his stupid face, the momentum of my movements sending me crashing to the ground, my scraped knees crushing against the plush carpet. “You’ll never amount to what they are. Never.”

Giovanni laughs and strides toward me, my fear screaming at me to get up and run, but my body is too heavy. My muscles strain to get up, but I fail with every attempt. Giovanni twists his hand into my hair, curling it around his wrist before pulling hard and dragging me across the room.

Agony tears through my scalp, and I grip his hand frantically, digging my nails into his tough skin, desperate to release the ache. “You’re a fighter,” he says with a sick pride, a laugh brimming deep in his chest. “I like that. Felicity was too easy, too willing. One threat from me had her spread eagle on my bed practically begging for it. She was a fucking whore, but she served her purpose. I have my son, a soldier to mold into my image, but one soldier is not enough. I need a fucking army.”

He pulls me up off the ground, throwing me across the bed as easily as if I were nothing but a soft toy. My body falls against the wet mattress, and I do what I can to scramble away, pissed off with how easily my body has succumbed to his drugs. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Giovanni laughs, slowly stalking closer and closer. “You’re my wife,” he says, spitting the word with venom. “Now, what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t fuck you until you screamed?”

My body struggles, fighting to push myself up the mattress and failing over and over again. I’ve never felt so weak and pathetic. The drowsiness creeps up and a tear slides down my cheek. It won’t be long until I can’t fight anymore, until my body gives up and I pass out, succumbing to his every sick, twisted desire.

He moves to the end of the bed, watching me like a lion watching an injured bird. “It won’t be long now, Shayne,” he murmurs, his voice growing deeper … colder. “Give in to it. Give yourself to me.”

I shake my head, my jaw clenching as the tears fall even harder. “I do not belong to you.”

Giovanni laughs. “Very well,” he says, making his way around the side of my bed. I watch his every step, swallowing hard over the lump in my throat and gasping as a blade catches in the light. He grips my arm, and I don’t even have the strength to pull back. The tip of the blade presses against my skin, high on the inside of my arm. “Resist me, and my sons will suffer the consequences,” he says. “Do what is required of you, and I might even spare their miserable lives.”

“They’d rather die than allow you to have what belongs to them.”

Giovanni roars, his grip tightening on my arm. “YOU BELONG TO ME.”

My eyes widen with fear and just as his face twists into a wicked smirk, the tip of the blade digs down into my skin. I try to cry out, but the scream never comes, slipping from my lips like a pathetic whimper. All I can do is watch as the sharp blade sails down my inner arm. Giovanni pulls back and then digs the blade back in as though he’s searching for something.

“Uh-huh,” he declares, digging his fingers right into my open flesh. He pulls hard and this time the scream comes tearing from the back of my throat like a motherfucking sailor. A small stick comes out in his fingers, and I quickly realize it’s my contraceptive rod. “You won’t be needing this,” he laughs, tossing it over his shoulder and letting the blood pool beneath my arm on the wet bed.

He releases his hold on me, only to grab the material of my dress. He tries to tear it straight down the center, but the fabric holds tight, and he’s forced to use the knife again. I can’t help the smirk that dances across my face, my eyes gently rolling from the dizziness. The fabric tore so effortlessly when I fell, but now this asshole can’t even split it in two. “Any one of your sons would have had this dress shredded into ribbons with their cocks already buried deep inside of me. What’s the matter? Waiting for your little blue pill to kick in?” I spit. “Got some news for you, old man, ain’t nothing you’ve got is ever going to compare to them. You could fuck me until the sun comes up, but nothing you do to me could make me feel your little pin dick.” Bile rises in my throat and my face twists into a disgusted scowl. “I bet it’s old and wrinkly, isn’t it? Loose gray pubes that I’m going to find in my bed for days, wrinkly ball sack down to your knees.”

His hand flashes out like lightning, slapping hard across my face, but I barely even feel it. Instead, I fucking laugh. “Hit a nerve, did I?” I taunt, feeling sick as he tears his suit jacket off to find big sweat patches under his arms.

I gag, digging my feet into the mattress to try and shove myself away but get nowhere.

He tears the dress from my body and slices the blade straight through my white lingerie before grabbing the front of his pants and freeing his hard cock.

Giovanni grabs my legs, pulling me across the bed and forcing my legs apart as tears stream down my face. “They’re going to fucking kill you,” I growl, the lump growing harder in my throat.

He. Fucking. Laughs. And as his eyes darken and his lips twist into a foul smirk, I know that this is it. The moment I’ve been dreading.

The drowsiness gets worse, and I will it to just take me out, but for some goddamn reason, my body is holding on, forcing me to be witness to his vile game. All I know is that one day, karma is going to burn him alive. Once all is said and done, once the boys are safe and thriving, I’m going to return here, and I’m going to make this motherfucker pay.

My eyes roll and my head begins to loll to the side, my body quickly giving up the fight.

And then he’s there, slamming into my bruised and abused body, trying to claim something that already belongs wholeheartedly to his sons.

Tears pool in my eyes and I blink them out, letting them stain the sheets by my head.

He slams into me again and again, gripping on to my heavy thighs as I just lay here, unable to fight, unable to scream for help. He groans and grunts as darkness washes over my soul, picturing exactly how I’m going to take his life from this world, picturing how I will tear him limb from limb, how I will cut his fucking dick off with a serrated knife and feed it to him, how I will tear his intestines right out of his body and listen to his scream.

Giovanni quickly grows sweaty, and I realize that this is going to be a quick game. “Is that all you got?” I mutter, my fingers clenching in the sheets. “You’re like a fucking jackhammer. This is embarrassing. No wonder Ariana was so desperate to fuck literally everyone but you. I bet you’ve never got a woman off in your life.”

He growls, trying to block me out as he focuses on fucking me raw.

“If I had to guess, I’d say Levi has the biggest cock, a million times bigger than that little jack rabbit you’re trying to fuck me with. I didn’t realize they even came in size micropeen. But Levi, he’s a girthy motherfucker. Angry veins with a long shaft that I have to use two hands on. I bet you’ve never made a bitch even gag before.”

Anger burns in his eyes, and I feel his dick quickly start deflating and I laugh. My DeAngelis men would never face such an issue. In fact, they’d use my taunts as a fucking weapon, desperate to prove they can get me off harder and faster than their brothers, but there is no competition. They all come with individual gifts, but it’s when all three of them have me up against a wall … that’s when the magic happens.

Giovanni fucks me harder, desperate to hold on to his erection, but with every snorted laugh that tears from deep in my throat, his will to fuck quickly dies. By the time it feels like nothing but a floppy cock trying to jam itself into my cooch, the second-hand embarrassment is too much. “Fuck, man. Give it up,” I laugh. “This is just shameful, but don’t worry, it’ll be a good story to share with your sons when we’re standing over your dead body.”

I don’t see his fist before it’s too late, but one second I’m laughing, and the next his fist is slamming into my temple, knocking me out cold.

13

A heavy thump sails through my room, so loud that I feel it vibrating in my chest and my eyes pop open. A gasp tears through my lips, remembering exactly what happened, and within moments, the emotions hit me hard.

Guilt. For allowing it to happen.

Anger. For not being able to fight.

Sadness. For not being able to save myself for only the men I love.

Shame. For having that vile man use my body for his own wicked games.

I don’t know what happened after he knocked me out. I don’t know if he kept fucking me, if he somehow got his limp dick hard again, if he even had the stamina to keep going. But it doesn’t matter if he made himself finish or not, all that matters is that it happened against my will and that the fucker will pay for it.

My fingers brush past my temple, and I wince at the sharp pain. There’s definitely a killer lump there that’s going to seriously fuck with my day, but at least I’ve regained some kind of control over my limbs.

Another loud thump comes from deeper in the castle, and my head shoots toward the door, certain that someone is going to come for me again, but when the door remains shut, I give myself a chance to breathe.

Pushing up from the stained mattress, I rest my back against the headboard and pull my knees into my chest, holding them to me as though curling into a ball could offer me some semblance of safety. Minutes pass, and I drop my forehead onto my knees as tears flow freely down my face.

He raped me.

He took my body and stole from me, abused me, held me down and forced himself inside of me without my consent. How am I ever supposed to be okay after this? I know I fucked with his head, took away his power over me, but that doesn’t change the fact that it still happened. Doesn’t ease the ache between my legs, doesn’t help the bruises to fade any faster.

Giovanni ruined me, and for that, I will destroy him and his whole goddamn army, but to do that, I have to put this behind me. I can’t break down into a sobbing mess every time it’s thrown in my face, every time the memories come back to haunt me. At least, not until he’s dealt with. I can break after that, once I have the boys to lean on. They’ll help me to find my value just as they’ve done in the past. They’re my rocks, and I won’t be able to do this without them.

They have to be okay.

Marcus … he … there’s not enough time.

Fuck.

Raising my head from my knees, I hastily wipe my tears. I’ve already wasted so much time. The boys are locked up in the underground playground with no food or water, no way to help one another. Roman and Levi have to just sit there in their cells watching Marcus slowly fade away. Hell, it’s been hours since the wedding, since I saw that live footage, he could already be … No. I can’t think like that. I have to believe that they’re going to make it because, without them, I won’t survive this. They hold three equal parts of my heart and without them, I’ll never be whole again.

They’re my everything, even Roman’s broody assholery.

Quickly taking note of my body, I check over my injuries. I’m bloodied and bruised. No one has bothered to come in and tend to the gaping wound in my arm, but on some level, I’m glad. I don’t think I can handle anyone else coming in here uninvited. As for the rest of me, I’m mostly unharmed. Lines of blood decorate my skin and matted hair, and there are bruises mainly on my thighs and hips. My jaw stings from the guard crash-tackling me like a fucking linebacker. My finger is swollen, but it doesn’t feel broken like I’d originally thought.

I’m going to be okay. I can work with this.

Grabbing the shredded material from the wedding dress that lays scattered across the bed, I wrap it tightly around my arm where my contraceptive rod used to be to stop the bleeding before shakily getting to my feet. I’m as naked as the day I was born, only now I’m sporting a shit load more scars and bruises than any woman should ever have to bear.

I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I wear them with pride because these are the marks of a survivor.

Stopping by the massive walk-in closet, I grab some clothes and fresh underwear while trying not to think about what happened in this room. I don’t even look back at the bed. From this point on, it lives in the past. I’ll close it out the best I can. I’ve had a few minutes to cry, to grieve for my lost innocence. When the little reminders come to destroy me, I’ll be ready and waiting to shoot every single one of them down.

Giovanni DeAngelis will not define me. Only I get the right to do that.

My head spins and my body still feels heavy, but I refuse to dwell on it. I can break down and crumble once I get out of here, but until then, I need to remain strong, remain the woman my mother insisted I become, the woman she feared returning. After all, there are three men who need to rise from the dead, and they can’t do that until someone gives them the strength to do it.

Their warrior hearts are still beating rapidly, they’re just buried under mounds of bullshit, pain, and torment. But not for long. My warriors are going to fly free, and it’s going to be fucking spectacular.

Fuck, I can’t wait to watch them rise. They’re going to burn this whole fucking family to the ground.

With a renewed courage and determination burning through my veins, I make my way into the bathroom. I close the door behind me, and to give myself the illusion of privacy, I flick the little lock on the back of the door before stepping into the shower.

Hot water cascades down over me, and I quickly wash myself, being extra thorough between my legs. When I first stood, there was no rush of fluids dripping out of me, so I can only assume that he didn't finish, but I have to be careful. It would be the worst thing in the world to become pregnant with Giovanni’s child. There are a lot of things I can handle in this life, but that would not be one of them. There’s a risk that Giovanni could kill me at any time, but to be pregnant with his baby means that he will never let me go, never stop coming for me or my child. I’d sooner die than inflict that kind of hell on a child. That’s why it’s so imperative that I find that baby and free him of this shit. Not to mention, I promised Felicity that I would protect him with my life.

Finishing in the shower, I quickly dress and make sure I’m completely covered. There’s nothing in my room that can be used as a weapon, but I need to make sure that if he comes again, he’s going to have one hell of a hard time gaining any type of advantage over me. I won’t be drugged again, and I sure as fuck won’t become his playtoy, but if he somehow gets past my defenses again, I’ll be more than ready. Besides, he made it pretty damn clear that his precious little ego bruises easily. It shouldn’t be too hard to hammer the final nail into that particular coffin.

Can’t blame the guy. I’d have a dick complex too if I had to compete against men like Roman, Levi, and Marcus. Now, they’re real fucking men. Tall, broad shoulders with piercing eyes that hold a woman captive. Not to mention their rock-hard bodies, sharp jaws, and a darkness that screams dirty alpha bad boy who’ll fuck you until you call them daddy. They take care of their business, and they protect what’s theirs with an animalistic possessiveness and fierce loyalty that does things to me I’ve never felt before.

They’re my family. It’s as simple as that.

Damn. I need to get them home.

My head pounds as I walk out of the bathroom and cross to the main door. If I have any hope of breaking out of this fucked-up little prison, then I have to know what I’m working with. Getting up close and personal with the door handle, I peer over the lock, wondering just how hard it’s going to be to pick it, or if I should just break the whole damn thing off.

Pressing down over the handle, I test just how sturdy the lock is. I expect resistance, only it never comes. The handle keeps turning and my eyes widen further and further the lower it gets.

Holy mother of all things sweet and sexy. This is not happening. Surely I’m seeing things. I must be so fucked in the head that I’m hallucinating.

I suck in a gasp, my heart leaping right out of my fucking chest as I stare at the handle in shock. The softest click sounds through the room, assaulting my eardrums with the sweetest sound.

The door is open. It’s fucking open.

Giovanni must have stormed out of here in such a huff that he forgot to lock the door behind him.

He fucked up. He fucked me, screwed me over, and then he fucked up in the kind of way that is going to see the end of his miserable life.

Holy fucking shit.

Let me say that again for the assholes in the back.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

Why didn’t I try the door before? Why did I waste all that fucking time having a shower and sobbing about what Giovanni did to me? I could have been out of here ages ago, could have already had the boys halfway through the thick trees by now.

A wicked grin spreads across my face as my heart thunders a million miles an hour, the hope swelling inside of me like a fucking cancer, infecting every part of my body. Millions of thoughts and plans swirl through my mind like a fucking hurricane, each one demanding attention. The possibilities are endless, and all of them are centered around finding that fucking prick and putting a dagger right through his chest before his yes men drag me back here kicking and screaming.

I shake my head. I can’t lose myself to that. My only priority is finding that baby and getting the boys out of here. We can deal with Giovanni later. Hell, I might even put Gia against him and let her clean up her own fucking mess.

Calming my racing heart, I slowly peel the door open a little wider and hold my breath, terrified that this could be some sick, twisted joke. Perhaps they’re lying in wait, ready to screw me over again. Perhaps Giovanni is watching me through cameras, predicting my every move.

Fuck, it’s a risk, but I’m willing to take it.

My gaze flicks from left to right before turning to the left once again. Something was out here before making loud, heavy thumps, and whatever it is, I need to keep as far away from it as possible. I don’t see anyone, but I’m not taking any chances. This whole thing has the potential to backfire in the most absurd, hideous ways, and I don’t want to hang around to discover what they might be.

Swallowing the fear, I remind myself that I was trained by not only Gia Moretti’s right hand, but by the three grim reapers, the infamous DeAngelis sons. If I can make it this far, I can sure as fuck keep going. I lived in this very castle for months. I know its ins and outs, its little secrets … secrets that perhaps Giovanni hasn’t discovered yet. I have the upper hand here.

Not wanting to waste time, I push out into the empty hallway, going as slow as possible and trying to remember where each of the creaks are in the old flooring. My heart thunders so loud that I swear I can hear it on the outside of my body, but if anything is going to give me away, it’s the rapid, heavy panting that sounds like some old bitch frothing over the Magic Mike live show performers, who I may or may not be following on Instagram. I’ve got to reel it in.

Creeping up to the room directly beside mine, I swallow hard before gripping the handle. I’ve got one fucking shot.

Get the baby. Grab a few diapers. And get the fuck out of here. The rest we can worry about later.

Pushing the handle down, I storm into the room, more than ready to put some old bitch flat on her ass, but I get hit with the worst kind of déjà vu—racing into the room only to find an empty crib.

“No,” I breathe, my eyes wide as I look around the room, my sharp gaze flicking from corner to corner. Where the fuck is he?

“The baby is gone, girl.”

I spin on my heels and my hands immediately go up to defend myself. An older lady hovers in the doorway, her eyes narrowed and unsure. There’s something familiar about her, and as she takes a hesitant step into the room, I realize that this was one of the many staff who worked down in the castle kitchen, caring for the boys over the past ten years—seen and not heard. She’s not here to hurt me, but who knows what kind of orders she’s under.

I swallow hard and slowly lower my hands, unsure of what she plans to do. “Where is he?” I snap, standing to my tallest height despite the older woman towering over me.

She watches me with sharp eyes from years of watching her back around Giovanni’s sons, always terrified that they may snap at any moment. Hell, the kind of guests they invited over would be enough to scar anybody. “Master took him for a drive thirty minutes ago,” she says, eyeing me warily as she slowly walks deeper into the room. “You will not be able to get your hands on that child,” she adds as though she can read every thought pouring through my head. “He is heavily guarded, all hours of the day. It is unclear when Master shall return. So, if you are going to run, now is your only chance. He believes you to be … indisposed for another few hours.”

My eyes widen, but before I can get a word out, she moves out of the doorway. “Go now, child.”

My gaze falls back to the empty crib, my heart breaking with the thought of leaving him behind. “I—”

“Don’t be foolish, girl,” she seethes. “Forget the baby. You cannot save him. Go before he …”

I read her unsaid words loud and clear.

Go before he rapes you again.

Shame settles over me once more, realizing that every last person in this fucked-up castle knows exactly what happened in that room, but I push it aside. She’s right. If that baby is with Giovanni right now, I don’t stand a fucking chance. I have to come back for him, and I’ll do it with a fucking army at my back, until then—it’s time to get my boys.

14

My hands shake as I take off out of the nursery, bypassing the older lady. I’d do anything to be able to stop and thank her or somehow offer some type of freedom from this hellhole, but all I can manage is a quick smile before I whiz past her. The determination to get my boys the fuck out of here is the only thing keeping me going.

My eyes dart from left to right, forward and backward with every step I take, knowing all too quickly how fast one of Giovanni’s men could catch me making a break for it. Nerves pulse through my body, and I wish that I were stronger, that I had regained all of my strength after those drugs completely fucked with my system, but beggars can’t be choosers. Had I waited until I was feeling like myself, I might have missed this chance completely.

Fuck, I just need to get to Marcus, need to know he’s doing alright. Roman and Levi are strong, they would have been able to push through the last … shit. I don’t even know how long it’s been. All I know is that any amount of time could be too much for Marcus. He needs to get help, and he needed it days ago.

Hitting the stairs, I bring myself to a standstill, listening for any noises below and forcing myself to calm down. My pulse is drumming so fucking loud in my ears that it’s almost impossible to hear, but I won’t be fucking this up.

Taking slow, calming breaths, I briefly close my eyes and concentrate, the way the boys had taught me to do that first night we visited the home Roman built, the very home we burned to the ground.

There’s soft chatter coming from the opposite direction in the castle, maybe guards discussing shift rotation while shuffling papers. There’s a clanging of pots and pans, maybe even the soft murmurings of the kitchen staff as well, but more importantly, the foyer at the bottom of the staircase and the areas around it are free.

Taking a breath, I start to move, keeping a quick pace as that clear path could change at a moment’s notice. My feet hit the floor and it's all I can do not to shout out in success before I hook around to the left and make my way through the grand ballroom to the door that leads down to the castle cells.

I don’t have the best memory of being down in those cells, and I’m sure that I’m probably going to see some things down there, but I remember the boys telling me about a passage down there that leads to the underground playground. Not wanting to risk being in the castle and out in the open any longer, I push through the door and trail down the big concrete steps before coming to a stop in front of the heavy medieval-looking door.

I hate this fucking thing. I could never get it open when it mattered the most. It’s heavy as fuck, but I’ll stand before it all fucking day, clawing at it until my bones break to get where I’m going.

Gripping on to the big iron handle, I pull hard, clenching my jaw and using all my body weight. Shit, if I weren’t so fucking thin right now, maybe my body weight might actually do the trick, but it seems I’m left with nothing but pure muscle strength.

Fuck.

I keep trying until my forehead is coated in a sheer layer of sweat when it finally budges. Tears sting my eyes as exhaustion threatens to claim me, but I push hard, determined to get this fucker open enough to slip through. I try and try again, biting down to avoid screaming at the stupid thing, moving it inch by inch until I can finally slip my hand through the gap.

A chill blows through the air and sails straight down my spine, remembering how the boys would torture me with white noise and the sounds of the metal cell doors opening and slamming once again, but then those images are quickly replaced with ones of Marcus holding chains.

Slipping my hand through the small gap, I use it to push against the door, and as I tug on it one more time, it finally inches enough for my body to slip through the gap. I don’t hold back.

My feet pound against the concrete floor, flying past all the cells. I don’t dare look up, terrified of what I might see … or who I might see. I have no idea where I’m going, but I spent one awful night racing through here and I use everything I know of these passageways to lead me deeper.

It takes four wrong turns until I finally break out into the open space where I stood all those months ago, determining which path to take. That night, I went straight ahead and that led me into a small room where Roman was waiting for me. He knocked me out with barely a moment’s notice, but it was enough time to realize that’s not where I need to go.

I mentally try to map out the castle above me, trying to place myself. If I were upstairs now, I’d be somewhere near the main dining room … I think, which means any path to my right is going to be short, it’s not going to lead far, but the path to my left; that has the potential to lead anywhere.

Knowing I could be wrong, I turn to the left and take off like a fucking rocket, the darkness beginning to overwhelm me. The path leads down, and before I know it, I’m tumbling over a steep set of stone steps. “Fuck,” I grunt, my already aching body barely able to handle the abuse.

My palms bleed, and I thank whoever is looking out for me that I didn’t smack my face against the ground again. Hastily getting to my feet, I keep going with hope surging through my veins, the stairs confirming that I'm heading in the right direction.

It’s almost a five-minute hike before I finally reach a door and have to feel in front of me for the handle. The deeper it gets, the colder and darker it seems to get as well. The door is large and made out of a hard metal, telling me that I’m right where I need to be, only the fucking thing comes fully equipped with a keypad entry.

Dread fills my veins as a small screen lights up the dark passageway and I squint into the darkness, the harsh, bright light of the keypad sending a searing pain right into the back of my head.

What’s the fucking code?

0000? 1234? 4321?

Fuck. No. They wouldn’t make it that easy. Well, Marcus would make it that easy, but Roman and Levi would demand something more complex. Something their father would never remember. A birthday maybe? No, he’ll have each of their birthday’s memorized … but not their mother’s.

I put myself back on that beach all those weeks ago when I sat up on the highest hill, watching as the boys dug a hole for their mother. We sat and talked until the sun went down. They told me everything they could remember, and I cried silent tears listening to the way they poured out every broken emotion clouding their hearts.

But what was it they said about her birthday? The twenty-something of April.

My hands clench into fists.

“Come on,” I mutter to myself, pacing the narrow passageway in front of the metal door. “You didn’t come all this way just to get stuck now.”

My hands run through my hair and clench into fists, desperately trying to recall the moment. I doubt the keypad will reset if I get it wrong. It’s not like my social media passwords that are going to give me three attempts before sending me a convenient email with a link to update it. If I get it wrong, I’m fucked.

With shaking hands, I move toward the keypad and go with my gut.

April 26th.

I start typing the code, pressing each number with care and accuracy.

0 … 4 … 2 … 6

A shaky breath expels from my lungs. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathe, watching and waiting, feeling absolutely sick to my stomach until the whole fucking keypad flashes green and the automatic locking mechanism releases inside.

“Holy shit,” I sigh, filling my cheeks with air before letting it rush out between my lips, my relief knowing no bounds.

I don’t wait another second, pushing against the door and letting it swing open into a dark room. I follow it through, no doubt that I’m exactly where I need to be. The door slams behind me with a heavy BANG and I jump before shaking out my hands, trying to get a fucking grip.

The room is small and, judging by the drain in the center of it, I can only assume that this is one of the many torture rooms the boys had built into the underground playground, a room I so hope to get to use against their father one day.

Rushing out of the room, I try to get my bearings, glancing around the darkened playground. The open space where I’d learned how to use a chainsaw is to the left, with all the cells to my right. I’m about halfway through the playground, and I have to keep myself from racing straight to the other end. Instead, I go to the left and start scrambling through the vast array of tools on offer, shaking my head as I really have no fucking idea what I’m supposed to use to cut through the metal locks.

I search high and low, my frustration quickly getting the best of me. There are guns and knives, every kind of weapon under the fucking sun, but my aim isn’t nearly good enough to try and shoot out the locks the same way the boys would. But then …

I grab the guns and every silencer in sight, not sure which is best suited to do the job, or which even fits with what gun. Hell, I can barely even think straight, and the idea of such a loud gunshot going off makes me nervous, but what other option do I have? Bolt cutters maybe? If I knew where to find them, then maybe, but time is running out.

I’ve seen Roman do this before and I trust his shot better than I trust anything, even in the worst of times, he’ll be able to get the job done. I know he will.

The boys were right at the far end of the cells in the darkest corner, so I get a move on, storming down the long line of cells, my desperation controlling my every move. My heart races, the fear of getting caught so close to the finish line is crippling my ability to think clearly.

Cells whip past me, and I push myself faster.

I’m fucking coming. I chant it over and over again like a mantra, willing them to hold on just a little while longer.

Ten more cells.

Eight.

Five.

Fuck, so close.

I’m coming. I’m fucking coming.

Three.

Two.

One.

15

“Roman?” I cry, throwing myself down in front of his cell, immediately dropping to my knees, not giving a shit that it opens old wounds. The guns spill out in front of me with a wave of bullets and silencers before I’ve even looked up into that angelic face.

I swallow hard, seeking him out in the dark, but he’s right there on his knees in front of me, his hand curling over mine as I clutch the metal bar. “Empress,” he says, the exhaustion in his tone killing something deep inside of me. “I knew you’d be back here.”

“Like I could stay away,” I cry, fat tears falling down my cheeks.

Roman reaches through the bars and cups the side of my face, and I instantly lean into him. “You’re a fucking warrior, Shayne,” he tells me, his thumb striking out to catch a falling tear before gently wiping it away, and within a moment, just one glance into my eyes and he can see right through me. He knows exactly what kind of hell I’ve been through at his father’s hand. “Shayne—”

I shake my head and push the guns and silencers toward him. “Don’t,” I cut out, refusing to meet his stare.

He nods once, a silent acknowledgment, telling me that we won’t speak of it now, but in time, he’ll expect me to come to him, to tell him exactly what went down and exactly what I plan to do about it. And I can do so with my head held high because no matter what, he and his brothers will have my back every step of the way.

Roman immediately gets to work, scrambling through the weapons, picking up what I’m throwing down and figuring out what bits and pieces can somehow be useful to us.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I see the slightest outline of Levi and Marcus through their cells. They sit together, each of them slumped with exhaustion. Their cells share a wall of bars, and it kills me to see Levi pressed right up against them, holding onto Marcus with everything that he has, willing his brother to hold on just a little longer.

I can’t make out his face, but I know he’s looking at me, know the overwhelming relief coursing through his veins because I feel it just as strongly as he does. “Is … Marcus.”

“Still holding on,” Roman tells me, his voice rising higher behind me, standing to his full height to wreak havoc over the lock holding him in his cell. “Do you really think the fucker would die before he gets the chance to eat your tight little cunt just one more time? It’s all he’s been able to talk about since you stormed through here last night.”

Not having it in me to laugh, I simply step out of the way, letting Roman do his thing. He doesn’t hesitate nor does he waste a single moment, squeezing the trigger and letting the bullet fly free. A soft pew sounds through the cells, echoing down the long playground before the heavy lock clatters to the ground.

He grips the cell doors and slides them back before racing out and falling into my arms, letting his brothers wait just a moment longer. “I fucking knew you’d come for us,” he murmurs, his fingers gripping my aching jaw. Tears continue falling down my face as he briefly crushes his lips to mine before dropping his forehead. He takes a calming breath, holding me close, and I hate how fucking weak he feels in my arms, lethargic and broken. I’ve seen him walk away from bullet wounds as though it was nothing more than a papercut, but this time it’s different. It’s been just over a week, and while his stab wound has slowly begun to heal, it’s nowhere near where it needs to be for him to be in the clear, not even close.

Barely a breath has passed between us before Roman releases me, knowing there’s a fucking job to be done before we get a chance to celebrate. He cuts across to the front of Levi’s cell, and before I can even catch up to him, he’s already taking aim and firing off the quick shot to free his youngest brother.

His aim is perfect even in this horrendous darkness, and as I move in to grip the metal and pull the bars free, Roman is already moving onto Marcus’ cell.

Levi watches me with wide eyes, refusing to get up and leave Marcus, so I race in after him, dropping down in front of him as Roman takes his final shot and darts to his brother’s side.

I drop down in front of Levi, being careful not to hurt him as my hands cradle his face. “Are you okay?” I breathe, the tears getting fatter by the second.

“Peachy,” he lies, the softness of his tone giving away just how much agony he’s really in. He reaches up and grips my chin, forcing me to look up from my scan of his body and meet his dark eyes. He pulls me in closer, his breath brushing against my bruised skin. “Did he touch you?” he demands, swallowing hard as though just the idea of what happened in the castle could kill him.

I shake my head. “No,” I murmur, the white lie breaking something deep inside of me, but I need him to focus on getting better. If I admit it right now, Levi might just insist on hanging around here a little longer just so he can get his hands on his father, but he needs to heal first. Nothing is more important than seeing the boys get better. After that, they can rain down hell over whoever the fuck they want. The right time will come, and when it does, I’ll let him know, but in the dark corner of this cell, he can’t read me as clearly as Roman had. “I’m okay. I just want to get you out of here. Can you walk?”

Levi groans as he shifts his weight, and I meet Roman’s stare through the cells, both of us thinking the same thing—how the fuck are we supposed to get them both out of here?

Reaching through the bars, I find Marcus’ hand and hold it tight. “You’re going to be okay,” I whisper, wondering if I truly mean it. Right now, the confidence in my tone doesn't match the fear I feel inside, not even close.

A breath escapes Marcus’ lips. “Shayne?” he murmurs, his voice barely audible in the deathly silence of the dark cells. “That you, baby?”

“Yeah, Marcus,” I say, trying not to let my voice break as the fear begins to cripple me. Seeing him like this … this is something that will forever haunt my mind, a million times more than the vile abuse I went through at Giovanni’s hands. “I’m here. Everything is going to be alright. I swear, I’m going to get you out of here. You’re not dying on me yet.”

Roman leans down in front of Marcus and slips his arms under his brother’s lifeless body. “Come on, brother,” Roman murmurs, clenching his jaw and lifting Marcus up off the ground. “It’s time to go.”

Levi grunts as Marcus’ weight is lifted off his side and I reach down, slipping my arm around the back of his ribs and pulling his arm over my shoulder. He grips onto the metal bars and pulls himself up off the ground, his weight bearing down on me.

We move out of Levi’s cell, and I pause by Roman’s. “Give me a second,” I warn Levi, making sure he’s got his balance before I dive to the filthy ground, shoving the sheathed daggers and bullets into my pockets and tucking the gun into my waistband. Bouncing back to my feet, I grab Levi again and fall in behind Roman.

We’re on the home straight, but it’s going to be a fucking hike back to the stolen Corolla, and another two-hour drive back to civilization to get help. I try to pull it together and think positive for the boys, but we’re not even close to being out of the woods.

We’re only halfway down the long row of cells before a light sheen of sweat begins to coat Roman’s skin. “What’s the plan?” he grunts, already breathless.

My heart shatters. Marcus is a heavy fucker on his best day, but with open stab wounds and no food or water for a week while slowly bleeding to death, asking Roman to carry him all that way would be cruel. He’s weak, all three of them are knocking on death’s door, only Marcus has already been invited in. Making it all the way back through the woods to the car would be … fuck.

“I have a car,” I tell him, breathing heavily while trying to support Levi’s weight, terrified with just how much he’s declined since last night. “It’s out in the woods, where you guys dug that escape tunnel.”

“Shit,” Levi grunts. “If we could get back through the castle and use the tunnel, we could hide out, take breaks.”

Roman pauses, leaning his back against a cell while adjusting Marcus in his arms. “Can’t,” he grunts, the exhaustion already showing on his face. “Too risky. They’ll catch us. We have no choice but to make a break for it across the fucking lawn and hope we make it to the woods before bullets start flying.”

I meet Roman’s worried stare, my chest heaving with heavy pants. “Giovanni doesn’t know I’ve slipped away. The guards aren’t looking for me yet, but it won’t be long until someone realizes I’ve gone. This is our only shot. We won’t get another chance to do this.”

He tips his head back against the bars as Levi grips onto one behind us, giving me a moment to catch my breath. “We take turns,” Levi suggests. “You can’t carry him across the whole fucking property, not without collapsing.”

“Look at you,” Roman spits. “You can barely even stand. You can’t take him. Don’t fool yourself.”

I begin pacing, my hands pressing against my temples before the pain slices through me and I remember the fucking beating my head took only a few short hours ago. I glance up at Roman, an idea beginning to form. “We need something to take Marcus’ weight,” I tell him, my brain spinning in desperation to make this work. “If I could … I don’t know … push him, like a shopping cart, or something like that, then you can support Levi and then maybe … just maybe we might have an actual shot at getting out of here.”

Roman glances at Levi, doing that silent conversation bullshit they do that I often find endearing, except for right fucking now. I need to know what they’re thinking, need to know how this is going to work … if it will work.

“No,” Roman finally says. “It’s too fucking risky.”

“Do you have a fucking brighter idea?” Levi shoots back at him. Roman’s lips press into a hard line before he catches his breath and pushes off the bars of the cell, ready to walk a little further. Levi loops his arm over my shoulder once again, but this time he doesn’t quite need as much help. “That’s what I thought.”

Roman mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “If you weren’t already dead, I’d fucking kill you myself.”

“Okay,” I cut in before this goes any further south. “Just tell me whatever the fuck it is you’re refusing to tell me, and I’ll get it done.”

Roman clenches his jaw, side eyeing his brother before letting out a pained curse. “We had this big guy, Big Tony. Weighed about 450 pounds. We needed a cart to haul his ass around. It’s hidden way out back in a storage shed, not visible from the castle. But you’d have to cross the fucking property, putting you at risk, and I’m not okay with it.”

I scoff. “You think I was okay with you being stabbed right in front of my fucking eyes? You think I was cool with watching you fall to your knees and listening to you screaming at me to run? No, it fucking killed me, but sometimes, we don’t get a fucking choice. So, screw you and your need to be an overprotective asshat. I’m getting the fucking cart. I’m the only one who’s got the stamina to do it right now. I’m getting the fucking thing and then we’re getting this big motherfucker out of here. Got it?”

Roman glares at me, not liking the idea one bit, but he doesn’t have it in him to argue. He knows it’s our only shot, and as much of a stupid idea as it is, it’s got merit.

It takes us almost twenty minutes of agonizing steps to finally see daylight, and by the time the late afternoon sun is shining down on our faces, blood has already begun pooling on Roman’s shirt, but the stubborn fucker hasn’t said a word.

The boys quickly find somewhere to hide, and without a backward glance or even a semblance of a goodbye, I take off like a raging bull, knowing damn well that time is running out. Giovanni is bound to have noticed my absence by now. He has a bruised ego, and men like that can’t handle it. He’ll be determined to destroy me, to prove something, and he’ll do it as many times as it takes to get me to either change my mind or suffer enough that I simply never want to mention it again.

Keeping to the shadows, I run as far as I can around the perimeter of the castle, only breaking out into the open at the very last moment. My heart races from more than just the strenuous run, and by the time I reach the hidden garden shed right in the back of the property, I’m certain that I would have been seen.

My back presses up against the storage shed and I listen out, trying to clear my mind and focus just like the boys taught me and when no shouting or bullets seem to come flying my way, I get back to work. It takes only a moment to find the cart, and just to be safe, I grab a rope as well. On my way out, a small refrigerator catches my eye, and I nearly sigh in relief when I find it filled with water for the groundskeepers.

I load up everything there is and quickly search for a first aid kit. It’s doubtful that a man like Giovanni, or even the boys would be OSHA compliant with safety supplies for their workers, but there’s bound to be some fucking bandages somewhere. Finding a small kit near the entrance, I toss it in with my other supplies. It won’t be enough for what the boys need, but it should at least give them a sliver of hope.

Not wanting them to have to wait another second, I grab hold of the cart and race through the property like a fucking bat out of hell. I stare down the castle in the distance, hating just how far I still have to go and knowing that all it would take is one guard to walk across a single window to see me racing through the yard.

The run takes me only a moment, but it feels like a lifetime before I’m able to dive back into the shadows of the castle. The boys have managed to walk a little further to meet me in the middle and without even a moment of hesitation, Roman dumps Marcus’ heavy body onto the cart before switching him out for a bottle of water.

Levi does the same, and they each take small sips despite their need to down the whole fucking thing. As they do, I can’t help but hold Marcus’ stare. He looks absolutely defeated, and it kills me. Leaning over the cart, I gently press my lips to his. “We’re going to make it,” I murmur, giving the guys a second to catch their breath.

Marcus captures my lips in his, his skin clammy and pale. “Bet that sweet ass we will.”

A smile pulls at my lips, and before I can respond, his head is lolling back again, too exhausted to be able to hold it up. They dump water over their faces, refreshing themselves as they prepare for something not one of us is mentally or physically prepared for. They rinse off their open stab wounds, cleaning out the dirt and grime, and before I get a chance to really think about just how hard this is going to be, I look up at two of the greatest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of falling in love with.

“Come on,” I tell them. “We have to get across to the woods before they come looking for us. We’re running out of time.”

Roman nods, and a small spark of hope begins to burn deep in my stomach, seeing just how much better he looks for having that small break and a sip of water. Hell, there’s even that familiar glint of fierce determination shining through his obsidian eyes. He holds my stare for a moment before turning back to Levi, clapping him on his back. “You good?”

Levi nods, clenching his jaw and staring out at the woods as though picturing every step he’s about to take, envisioning himself getting across the property and into the thick bush like a football player envisioning his team scoring the winning touchdown right on the buzzer. “It’s now or never,” he says, his shoulders bouncing with anticipation. “Let’s fucking do this.”

And just like that, Roman gently pushes me aside, takes the handles of the cart, and takes off across the property. Levi and I follow closely behind him, and even with their injuries, their long strides carry them across the property a million miles faster than I could ever dream.

Levi grips onto my hand, pulling me along with him, keeping the four of us in a tight group, not letting one of us fall behind for even a second.

Sweat coats my skin, and I can only imagine what fresh hell the boys are feeling right now, but we forge ahead, pushing ourselves to limits we never knew we were capable of.

It takes forever to cross the wide expanse of manicured lawn, and I’m more than aware of the tire mark the cart has left in the grass. I’m sure the run isn’t as long as what it feels, but the thick woods can’t come quick enough.

Once we finally break through them, we continue running just enough so that we’re completely concealed in the bushes, and only then does Roman collapse into the hard ground. I go down with him, grabbing a water bottle from beneath Marcus’ ass and cracking the lid.

Roman takes it greedily as Levi drops to the ground beside us, his knees crashing into the mossy earth as he grips his stomach, his hands instantly stained with blood.

“Shit,” I pant as my arm weaves around the curve of Roman’s head, holding him close to my chest as he closes his eyes, his desperation to save me and his brothers almost costing him his own damn life. Reaching across to Levi, I pull his hand away from his stomach and raise his shirt, getting a good look at his wound. “It looks infected.”

Levi nods, giving me a grim stare. He’s known that it was infected for a while and just never said anything. “Why?” I question, knowing he knows exactly what I’m asking.

He shrugs his shoulders and takes the water bottle right out of Roman’s hands. “We got bigger things to worry about,” he tells me. “Marcus is our priority. Once we know he’s going to get through this, then we can worry about this shit.”

I nod, knowing he’s right. The boys might be in pain and barely holding themselves together, but they can handle it, what they can’t handle is losing their brother, and that’s not about to happen on my watch.

Catching my breath, I scramble back to my feet and focus on Marc. He looks terrible. The jolting of the run and the uneven ground of the woods couldn’t have been good for him. I press a water bottle to his lips, and he barely opens his mouth enough for me to pour water into it.

“I heard my magical pussy has been the one thing keeping you going?” I tease, not feeling it but wanting to keep his spirits high.

He shakes his head as I place the water bottle back down and switch it out for the first aid kit. “Never been a magical pussy,” he mutters so quietly I have to strain to hear the words. “Magic is for children.”

“Oh yeah?” I grin, finding some antiseptic wipes before pulling up his shirt and gaping at the infection eating away at his stab wound. “And what would you call it?”

“Call it as I see it,” he says, swallowing hard and trying not to wince as I begin to clean his wound. “It’s a tight fucking cunt.”

My brow arches and I pause for a moment, glancing up to meet his eyes and find him watching my every move as though he still can’t believe that I’m standing right here in front of him. “A tight cunt, huh?”

“Nothing short of perfect, made for the filthiest of men,” he tells me, making my thighs clench which only serves to remind me what happened back in that castle. I flinch at the thought, and if Marcus weren’t so fucked up, he might have even noticed, so instead, I focus on his wound and let him continue, knowing that talking about my pussy is a sure-fire way to spark that fire that burns within him.

“No other cunt could squeeze my cock the way yours does,” he continues. “It’s the real fucking deal, Shayne. Ain’t no fucker without a goddamn hair on his chest would even know how to handle that sweet pussy, know how to fuck it just right, how to make it come apart with nothing but a single finger. But nothing, nothing, compares to the sweet taste of your cum on my tongue. That’s what’s keeping me going, babe. Mark my fucking words, the moment I’m able to spread those pretty thighs and bury my face into that tight cunt, I will.”

I lean in closer to him, bracing myself against the side of the cart. “I’m going to hold you to that,” I warn him, the seriousness flooding through my gaze as I stare deep into his glassy eyes, ignoring the fact that half of his rambling doesn’t make sense while the rest of it seems slurred. “And if you don’t come through for me, if you fucking die on me and don’t give me exactly what you’ve promised, I’m going to be pissed. Is that understood, Marcus DeAngelis?”

Marcus holds his hand up, using every last ounce of his energy to salute me before his arm falls heavily back into the side of the cart. “Your wish is my fucking command,” he tells me. “Now get me the fuck out of here.”

With that, Roman and Levi get back to their feet, and with the boys barely holding it together, and at least an hour trek through the thick woods, I take over pushing Marcus while doing everything that I can to distract them from the burning agony tearing through their weakened bodies.

16

The guys barely fit in the Corolla, but for now, it’s the best we’ve got.

Roman sits beside me as I drive, holding a bandage to his bare waist as Levi sits directly behind me with Marcus’ head resting in his lap. Levi is the closest thing to a doctor we have and he’s doing everything that he can, but with limited resources at our disposal, it’s not a lot. At least, not until we get some decent pain killers and the strongest kind of antibiotics, and even after that, it’ll be one hell of a scary waiting game. It could take days until we start seeing a difference, but until then, all we can do is keep him hydrated and comfortable.

“He’s going to pull through,” Roman says, reading me as easily as though I had the words stamped across my forehead. He reaches across the front seat, his big hand gently pressing down over my thigh and squeezing, while being careful not to cross any boundaries that I might have erected since the last time he was freely able to touch me. There’s no doubt in my mind now, he knows what his father did.

I weave through the thick trees, my foot all the way down on the gas, trying to put as much distance between us and the castle while also desperate to get Marcus the help he really needs. Shit, the help all three of the boys need. The sooner we can get back into civilization, the better.

Letting out a sigh, I try to hold it together. It won’t do us any good to get in a major car wreck right about now. God, that’s the last thing we need. “I know,” I tell him, starting to believe it more and more with every passing minute. Marcus still looks like he could drop off the face of the earth at any moment, but the water and that bit of fresh air and sun on his skin has already done wonders for him, though the race to the car only served to exhaust him more. I’ve never seen him so lethargic, but all that matters is that he still grips tightly onto his will to live, and that’s so much more than I could ask for.

Glancing across at Roman, a weight presses down over my chest, and before the words can even come out of my mouth, his eyes are narrowing. “Out with it,” he says, not one that likes to be kept waiting in the dark … the last week of literally waiting in the dark more than proof of that.

I give him a tight smile, not wanting to break his heart any more than it already is. “The baby was there,” I finally tell him, not sure how he feels about the baby right now. Hell, I doubt he’s even had a real chance to figure out his emotions after his father so kindly dropped the ‘he’s not your baby’ bomb on him. “I could hear him crying in the room directly beside mine. It was non-stop, like he’s not happy … or I don’t know. I don’t exactly have any experience with babies, but I’m sure they don’t cry that much … or that loud,” I add, glancing away, unable to take the weight of his stare. “I, umm … when I left, I went to his room. I wanted to bring him with us. I promised Felicity that I’d take care of him, you know, keep him safe and all that, but he wasn’t there. Giovanni took him somewhere, and I had no choice but to run without him.”

Roman’s lips press into a hard line and it’s more than clear he’s struggling with what he wants to do about this baby. On one hand, this is Felicity’s child, the one he so desperately wanted to bring into the world, the one he wanted to father and care for. He was so happy knowing he was going to be a father, and when that baby was finally born, this overwhelming protectiveness kicked in. Without even laying his eyes on that child, he would have given up his life just to know he would thrive. But now … knowing that baby was never his, that his father constantly raped the woman he loved with the goal to conceive another son … yeah, I don’t exactly feel great about it either. No matter what though, that baby is still their biological half-brother. The blood that runs through his veins also runs through theirs, and there’s no ignoring that.

The boys have a chance to give this baby the life they should have always had, and something tells me that they’re going to fight for this. No matter what, they won’t be able to push the baby away because it’s simply not in their DNA to do so. They’re kind and loyal, and if they have a chance to save this child from the same hell that they suffered … well shit, it’s a no-brainer.

“It’s okay,” Roman finally says, his hand falling away from my thigh as the heaviness of the topic begins to plague him. “You were already risking everything to get us out. It would have been impossible to do it with a baby hanging off your—”

Roman cuts himself off as he peers out into the thick bushland around us, his hand falling to the gun that’s been stashed in the cup holder between us. I glance out through his window and don’t see a damn thing, but any gut feeling that has Roman reaching for a weapon is a feeling that shouldn’t be ignored.

His hand pauses, squinting at something deeper through the thick trees that I’m clearly missing. “Is that …?”

My brows furrow and I try to peer through the trees but only allow myself a moment before having to look back at the dirt trail marked out through the bush. “What?” I rush out, needing to know if I have to adopt some epic drag racing skills in the next three seconds. “What do you see?”

A grin pulls at Roman’s lips and his hand relaxes over the gun. “No fucking way.”

Just as the words leave his mouth, a flash of black fur cuts through the trees, sprinting alongside the car and keeping up with us as though it was born to run, and hell, maybe it was. Levi laughs, his eyes lighting with joy as I hit the brakes and allow the car to come to a screeching halt just as the two big wolves break out onto the trail before us, narrowly avoiding becoming roadkill.

My door swings wide and I climb out of the driver’s seat, glaring at the big furry bastards staring back at me with their tongues lolling out of their mouths. “You big assholes,” I screech, holding my hands out, yet struggling to actually be mad at them. All I feel is pure relief knowing they’re okay. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

They took off down in that playground and I’m not going to lie, it would have been nice of them to stick around, perhaps give me just a few seconds of warning that Giovanni was about to jam a needle into my throat. I have no idea how they escaped the playground without detection or where they even ran off too, but they’ve lived at the castle and in the surrounding woods for years. They would know this property better than anyone.

Staring back toward the small Corolla, I realize that we have no choice but to squish Dill onto Roman’s lap while Doe will have to lay across the floor space of the backseat, doing what she can not to wriggle around and bump Marcus in the process.

“Come on,” I tell them. “Get in.”

The big wolves saunter over to me, and I don’t miss the way their noses rise high into the air, no doubt smelling the fresh blood spilling through the car and knowing that this is so much more than just some bullshit broken nose or stab wound through the center of a hand. The wolves are intuitive, far more than any human could ever be, and they know this is serious.

“Could it have killed you assholes to stick around?” I question as I open my driver’s door for Dill to jump in. “I could have really used you guys after you abandoned me down in those cells. I don’t know, maybe a quick heads up that Giovanni was about to knock me out with a fucking syringe to my neck would have been nice.”

Dill bounds across my seat and awkwardly tries to push Roman out of his while acting as though he doesn’t understand a damn word that I’m saying. Doe looks up at me with those big wolfy eyes, demanding I forgive and forget, and damn it, when my family is whole like this, there’s not a damn thing I’m not willing to forgive and forget.

My heart swells, and I scratch her behind her ears before ducking down and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. Her tongue lolls out the side again, and I roll my eyes as I open Levi’s side door. Doe immediately climbs into the car, keeping her body low until there’s enough room for her to drop down onto her stomach and try to find a position that offers even the smallest bit of comfort.

After closing Levi’s door and getting back into the driver’s seat, I glance over my shoulder to find Doe’s big head resting on the seat, her stare locked onto Marcus’ while Dill is half sprawled across Roman’s lap, his big head against the center console, watching through to the backseat just as Doe does.

They really care about him, just as we do, even though they’re wild animals. They consider Marcus their family, and if we were to lose him, they’d feel that grief just as strongly as we would.

Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I turn my attention back to the road and floor it, not willing to waste another second between now and getting the boys the help they need.

“Are you sure about this?” I question, bringing the small Corolla to a stop around the back of the building, right where Roman had parked the last time we were here.

“I’m sure. It’s the only place we can go without question.”

I shake my head, my eyes wide with fear. “But Marcus … he needs a hospital, a surgeon … meds. How is he going to get that here?”

“There are sterile bunkers underground,” he tells me, gripping the handle and moving to get out of the car. “One call is all I need to get a doctor down here. Trust me, Empress, this is where we need to be.”

He’s fucking crazy. Perhaps he’s forgotten what this place is.

Roman glances over the massive building with unease, though he doesn’t voice his concerns, just demands that I trust him without question. Though, he’s never given me a reason to doubt him … you know, apart from the whole dragging me through the woods and torturing me when he thought I shot Marcus all those months ago. Hell, that seems like a lifetime ago now. Too much has gone down. I can’t wait to just spend my days watching Netflix and chilling with my guys, not even a hint of this bullshit drama floating in the air. Whatever happened to uneventful boring days anyway? I’d give anything to have that back.

Letting out a heavy breath, I push out of the car as Roman moves to the backseat, helping Levi to lift Marcus out of the car. My heart breaks watching them like this, seeing the care and fear in their dark eyes, the horror knowing that Marcus might not make it through this. He’s always been so strong, indestructible, but right now, he’s barely holding on.

Dill and Doe flank the boys, watching their surroundings and having our backs as we move toward the alley door of the massive warehouse … the big fucking warehouse that just so happens to be used as Giovanni’s main production center. “He’ll find us here,” I say, moving in closer to the boys, my spine stiffening with unease.

Levi shakes his head. “He’ll look here,” he confirms, “but he won’t find us. Mick is good at his job. He'll wipe the surveillance cameras and cover our tracks. We’ll be okay to lay low for a few days, let Marcus regain enough energy to move him again, but after that, we need to start putting a plan together.”

I swallow hard and nod, not liking it one bit but if we could get a doctor here, someone to help Marcus, then I’m willing to do whatever the hell it takes.

We make our way to the back door and Levi slides his hand on the keypad, quickly hashing in the code before letting the retinal scanner do its thing and stepping back as the industrial sized door opens. It pulls back and we quickly move inside the warehouse, but not before Roman spares another glance up and down the back alley.

We move through to the second door and by the time it’s opening, Mick is there, meeting us on the other side. Confusion settles across his face, not having expected to see us here today, but the second he gets a good look at the three boys with the wolves flanking their sides, his eyes widen in horror.

“FUCK,” he curses, his eyes darting from left to right, trying to assess everyone and their injuries. “What do you need?”

Roman nods back toward the door we just came through. “Lose the car and wipe the cameras,” Roman orders. “I don’t want a fucking trace of this … and get me a fucking doctor who knows what they’re doing.”

Mick nods and gets a move on, his phone already out of his pocket. We move past him as he hashes in the code and brings the phone to his ear. He quickly disappears through the door, surely to lose the car as instructed, but the second the door closes behind him, Mick is already gone from my mind.

We weave through the warehouse. It’s creeping up to eight in the evening and I’m relieved not to find many workers here tonight. The less people who know we’re here, the better. I don’t doubt that Giovanni has realized we’re gone by now, and the fucker would surely be coming after us already. Despite being out of there, our time is still running out.

We need to get ahead of this. We need to get the boys back in good shape and figure out how we’re going to move forward.

The boys cut through stacks of rebranded pills, and I resist the urge to grin at their logo on the front of the small packets. Obviously, Giovanni hasn’t thought to make a trip out here in the past week and has no idea what the boys have done, though that is only going to make this even more entertaining. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when he figures it out.

High piles of cash keep us hidden as we move through the warehouse and come to a stop outside an elevator. Levi presses the call button, and the soft ding that sounds through the warehouse is enough to send anxiety pulsing through my veins.

I quickly glance around, but no one seems to be paying any attention to what we’re doing. Letting out a sigh of relief, we step into the elevator, and I’m surprised to find so many different levels on offer. Most buttons are the standard, plain silver buttons, but at the very bottom, separate from the others, there are three black ones, none of them labeled, and each requiring a retinal scan to select.

My brows furrow as I watch Levi hit the middle black button and lean into the retinal scanner. There’s no ding, no digital screen telling us that the scan was approved, no button lighting up like they do at the mall—just one minute, we’re closed off in a metal box, and the next, the doors are opening into a world of disbelief.

We step out into a clinical hallway with large metal doors on either side and heavy, industrial locks in place. It smells weird, like we must be deep underground. I don’t like it one fucking bit. “Is this some kind of bomb shelter?” I breathe, the place sending chills down my spine.

It looks like the kind of bullshit you get in a scary movie right before the crazy psychopath begins chasing you with a knife. The only difference is, in this particular situation, we’re the messed-up psychopaths.

We walk down the long hall until Roman turns toward a door. “In here,” he says, nodding at it, silently telling Levi to hurry the fuck up and open the damn thing.

Levi cuts in front of me, quickly pulling back on the heavy bolted lock before pushing the thick metal door open. The room leads down a steep stairwell, and as we pass the door, Levi quickly closes it behind us again. We get to the bottom only to find another locked door, this one seeming much heavier and resistant than the one before, but it’s nothing that Levi can’t handle.

The door slides open, and we step through to a clinical bunker that looks more like a surgical room. There are narrow beds at the far end, a small bathroom with a shower, and a wall of weapons, filled with everything anyone in our position could possibly need.

Roman immediately moves toward the surgical table in the center of the room and lays Marcus down, blood instantly spilling over the side and dripping onto the clean, sterile floor. I move in beside him, curling Marcus’ hand into mine, hating that I don’t know how to help him. Letting him know that I’m here is all I can really do for him right now.

He slept for most of the drive, and I’m not going to lie, the way Levi would constantly shake him awake just to check he was still with us didn’t bother me one bit, despite how desperately he needed to rest.

Roman tears the shredded shirt off his clammy body and tosses it to the ground, while Levi begins rifling through the vast array of medical supplies, only judging by the grunts and shallow curses, we may not have exactly what we need.

Levi comes back with a stack of supplies, though I can tell he’s anxious for the actual doctor to arrive. He doesn’t have much energy of his own, and soon enough, all three of them are going to be passed out. “He’s burning up,” Levi mutters, handing me a washcloth. “Wet this and dab it over his face, we need to keep that under control.”

I do as I’m told, hurrying toward the small bathroom and quickly drenching the washcloth before wringing out the excess water and hurrying back to Marcus’ side.

The boys start cleaning him up, but he needs hardcore antibiotics to fight the infection and a surgeon to stitch up the internal wounds. Who knows what kind of hell their father’s dagger wreaked on their organs? With each passing minute, my frustration only gets worse.

Where is that doctor?

It feels like a lifetime ago that Felicity shot Marcus. That night, Levi didn’t hesitate to dive straight through the wound to retrieve the bullet and stitch him up, but this is different. Marcus’ body is too weak to fight it. He needs the right kind of medical help to ensure that he makes it through the other end.

I go back and forth, keeping the washcloth cool on his head before grabbing another and sponging off the dried blood from his skin. I know it won’t help him in any way, but I always feel better when I’m clean.

After what feels like a lifetime, a quick rap sounds at the door and Roman quickly rushes across to open it. Mick appears holding a box, with a woman by his side. My gaze falls to the woman, and I’ve never seen anyone look so wary and terrified. It’s clear Mick hasn’t given her any details as to why she’s here, but when she gets a look at Marcus on the table, understanding flashes in her eyes.

I can only assume this is the doctor.

She doesn’t hesitate, moving across the room and finding a pair of gloves. She quickly chats with Levi, getting as much information as possible as she begins loading Marcus up with something that will hopefully put him out of his misery.

As the doctor tends to Marcus, Roman spouts off a list of things he needs for Mick to organize: food, medication, a car, more weapons, and cell phones. He goes over everything as Mick places the box down at his feet and I can just see the tip of the contents spilling out. There’s no mistaking the vast array of medical supplies in there, extra bandages, gauze, tape, syringes … and thank fuck, a shit load of what I hope to be the strongest kind of medication anyone could ever need.

We’re going to be okay.

Mick scurries away, determined to get a jump on wiping the surveillance footage and logs from the scanners before Giovanni has a chance to find it, but he doesn’t leave without assuring us that he’ll be back with everything that we need. Roman sends Dill and Doe with him, giving him instructions on where to stash them for the time being, and my heart breaks just a little more watching the massive wolves follow him out.

The door closes behind him and just as Roman collapses down onto one of the small beds and goes to close his eyes, a sharp gasp tears from deep in my chest. “What is it?” Levi spits, his eyes wide as he looks to me in concern.

My gaze travels over his body, my brows furrowing in confusion.

“The gunshots,” I say, feeling like an idiot for not having even thought about this sooner. “I heard them when I was leaving. Three of them. Giovanni shot you all, but …” My gaze flicks to Roman, scanning him from head to toe, just as I did with Levi. “Where are the bullet wounds?”

Roman holds up his hand and I see a chunk of flesh torn out of the side of his hand, big enough to cause a shitload of pain, but not enough for a man like Roman to concern himself with. “Warning shots,” he mutters, closing his eyes and allowing his hand to fall back onto his chest. “Three shots into the grass, one just a little too close.”

“Fuck,” I breathe, falling against the wall of the bunker and slowly sliding down to my ass. “I thought they were kill shots. Those first few days after,” I start, tears forming in my eyes, remembering the grief at thinking I’d lost them. “I thought … I thought you were gone.”

“It’ll take a shitload more than a fucking bullet to take us out,” Levi murmurs before dropping down onto a bed and falling back, his head crushing against the pillow. His eyes immediately close, and within moments, he falls into a deep sleep, and hell, maybe Roman already is too.

Wanting them to get as much rest as possible, I keep my torturous memories and comments to myself, sitting in silence and listening as the doctor tirelessly works on Marcus. It takes long, tormenting hours before she declares that he’s going to be okay, and only then does she move onto Roman and Levi, cleaning out their wounds and ensuring they’re alright. After the boys have been treated, she digs through the box that Mick had left and hands out medication like it’s candy.

She gives strict instructions on how to care for Marcus, and I commit each one to memory. She quickly looks over my bruised jaw and fixes a proper bandage to the slice on my arm. She doesn’t ask how any of this happened, nor does she question our names. Just simply does the job I can only assume she’s being paid a shitload to do.

Once there’s nothing else for her to help us with, she spares me one last curious glance, probably wondering how a girl like me could fit in with these three guys. She doesn’t ask and I don’t bother offering her anything before her heavy stare falls away and she slips out the door, hopefully to never see us again.

17

Three days.

Three fucking days is all it takes for Marcus to get back on his feet and declare that he’s some kind of indestructible god. Fuck, the asshole is close to assuming that he’s immortal, but in reality, he still has a long way to go. All three of them do. They’re each fighting different levels of infection, Marcus obviously has the worst.

Mick came and went, offering us everything we needed to get through the few days underground before explaining where we could find the car, cell phones, and enough cash to keep us going. He confirmed that everything had been wiped from their system and that on day two, Giovanni had raided the place like a fucking psychopath, just as we thought he would, and Mick had shown him a live feed from the bunkers to prove we weren’t down here, which he then explained was a mirror image of the empty bunker across from us.

The boys pretty much rested the entire time, and I did what I could to keep them comfortable as they healed, while also avoiding every lingering stare that came from Roman. He knows too much, and I feel him waiting, anticipating the moment that my grief will all come crashing down around me. He hasn’t said a damn word, but soon enough, he’s going to push me to talk, and the moment I open the floodgates, I’m scared I won’t be able to stop. Not to mention, we’re in a cramped space, the second I speak about it, Marcus and Levi will know and then nothing will be able to reel them in. Hell, I haven’t even shared the big news—I’m their new step-mommy.

Fuck.

This is wrong on so many levels.

Hell, at this point, I don’t really know if I’m scared to tell them because of their reactions or if I’m just too afraid to face it, to admit what happened in there, to own it and start the process of learning how to move past it. I’d do anything to not have to go over those details, to say the words out loud and see the looks on their faces.

What are they going to think of me? Will they see me as dirty? Used goods? Will they pull away from me, not being able to even touch me without imagining what their father did to me?

Shit.

For now, all I want to focus on is them getting better. Once we get out of this bunker and find somewhere to stay, somewhere to lay low and figure out our next move, then we can address the ugly details.

Marcus passes in front of me for the hundredth time over the past few minutes, and I roll my eyes, leaning back against the wall of the cramped bunker. It was one thing when the three of them were bound, but after three long days, they’re getting just a little agitated. I don’t blame them though, after being locked up in those cells, they’re probably desperate for freedom.

“Stop fucking pacing,” Levi grunts, playing with a gun, pulling the bullets out before putting them straight back in, the same routine he’s been following for the past hour. But hey, I’m not one to judge, whatever passes the time. “You’re going to tear your stitches.”

“My stitches aren’t your fucking problem,” Marcus fires back, his ability to keep calm long gone.

Levi scoffs, shooting a nasty glare at his brother. “Right, because I’m not going to be the one that has to restitch them like I did yesterday and the day before that. Sit your bitch ass down.”

A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips, and I glance up from under my lashes, watching the show, a sick excitement drumming in my veins. Levi might pass his time by loading and reloading a gun, but I get my kicks from watching these assholes lose their shit at one another like three caged animals. Then they have to spend the next hour acting as though they’re not bothered by their close proximity. What can I say? It’s been a long three days.

Marcus glares at his brother, and I get a thrill out of how fired up he is. It’s a dangerous game. He isn’t exactly known for being able to control his reckless emotions, but seeing that fire burning through him, getting stronger each day, makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine. He’s not my usual, ready to fuck at the drop of a hat, Marcus, but he’s sure as fuck on his way.

“Can’t we just get the fuck out of here?” he questions, glancing back at the clock that sits high on the wall above the door. It reads 8 pm, and I let out a sigh, predicting the next conversation that’s about to go down.

“No,” Roman murmurs, laying back on his bed, his eyes boring a hole into the ceiling with his laser-sharp stare. “We leave at nine.”

“What difference does it make?” he grumbles, his frustration building and coming out clear in his deep tone. He crosses the bunker and slams his fists against the wall before leaning into them and letting out a low groan. “I can’t take this anymore. I need to get out of this fucking shoe box.”

“9 pm,” Roman reminds him for the millionth time, taking absolutely no pity on the brother who he almost lost only three days ago. “Not a minute before. Not a minute after.”

Reaching out, I press my hand to Marcus’ hip, wanting to offer him what little comfort I can. He immediately drops his hand to mine and shuffles just a little bit closer, needing that closeness just as much as I do.

Roman has his reasons for wanting to leave at nine. The whole plan he’s carefully constructed with Mick to get out of here unscathed and undetected all starts when the clock strikes nine, and Marcus knows that. He knows it’s imperative to wait, but he’s not exactly a patient guy. He likes to act first and deal with the consequences later, and if they weren’t still healing, maybe we would have taken the risk.

I don’t know how Mick intends to pull this off, but Roman insists that he’s as good as he says he is, and I trust Roman’s instincts. He’s never let me down … except that one time when he jumped to conclusions and decided my word wasn’t worth trusting, but that’s all in the past now.

The thought has my gaze shifting across the room to Roman to see the perfect outline of my bite tattooed on his forearm. Every now and then, when he’s caught deep in a thought, I catch him looking at it, staring as though his will alone should be enough to change the past. His finger traces over the bite mark, and it only lasts a moment before he sighs and drops his hand away. Those moments kill me. I’ve been able to block out those memories, been able to replace them with new ones, but not Roman, he holds on to everything.

“That’s still a fucking hour away,” Marcus mutters, relentless with his demand to get out of here. “What the hell am I supposed to do for another hour?”

“The same thing you’ve been doing for the last seventy-two hours.”

Marcus sighs before a grin begins pulling at his lips, and he slowly angles his head down to meet my gaze.

“No,” I say before the words even get a chance to come flying through his full lips. “Absolutely not. I’ve told you a million times already, you’re not fucking me until your stitches have healed properly. I’ve fallen victim to that bullshit before, and it won’t be happening again. You can wait.”

“Come on, babe,” he says, crouching in front of me, his hands falling to my knees. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Rolling my eyes, I capture his hands in mine and push them off my knees, grinning back at him. “I don’t doubt that, but the answer is still no,” I tell him, not daring to let on that the thought of being vulnerable like that right now scares the absolute shit out of me. I know it’s irrational and the boys would never hurt me like that, never take away my consent, but it’s too soon, too fresh, and if I had the guts to actually speak up about it, I know Marcus wouldn’t dare press me on this right now.

His eyes narrow, and for a split second, I fear he’s reading my mind and trying to put the pieces together, but the moment his eyes light like it’s Christmas morning, I let out a soft sigh of relief. “What about this,” he says. “What if, instead of me fucking you, you fuck me. I can just lay back and let you take control, let you do your thing. It’s a win all around. My stitches won’t tear, you’ll get to take control, do whatever the fuck you want to do to me, and the boys get a fucking show.” He grins wide, pausing as if to give me a chance to think it over. “Why didn’t I think of this before? It’s pure genius. We should have been doing this all along and those seventy-two hours would have flown by.”

Marcus shakes his head, his smile faltering. “Actually, it’s kind of depressing. What a wasted opportunity.”

I scoff and his brows shoot back up, meeting my stare once again, the question still lingering in his eyes. “You’re insane if you think I’m about to fuck you, but I’ll definitely take a raincheck on that one. Besides, that camera up in the corner looks far too suspicious. I’d bet a week’s worth of orgasms that Mick has been watching us this whole time with his dick in his hand, just waiting for us to start fucking.”

“Nah,” Marcus says, falling down on his ass and leaning back onto his hands, not willing to push me any further. I said no the first time he asked, and if he were seriously trying to convince me, he would have played me with those dark bedroom eyes that he knows I can’t resist. He’s a gentleman like that. “Mick’s not like that.”

A laugh bubbles up my throat and I raise a brow. “How do you know that? Have you met the kind of people you like to keep company with? Don’t think for one second that I’ve forgotten that party you guys threw in the castle. Literally, all your friends are either serial killers, on the FBI’s most-wanted list, or have done hard time in the past few years. What’s a few perverts added to the list? Or is there only room for one serial killer pervert around here, Marcus DeAngelis?”

My eyes sparkle and he immediately picks up what I’m putting down. “If you didn’t have such a tight little ass, then I wouldn’t have to be such a fucking pervert around you. You bring it all on yourself, Shayne Mariano.”

“Damn,” I say, batting my eyelashes, feigning adoration. “All this time away from you made me forget just how sweet you can be. I bet you tell all the girls that right before you slit their throats, just to watch the blood stain their pretty white dresses.”

Marcus grins at me, slowly shaking his head as his dark eyes sparkle with mirth. “You better wash those filthy words out of your pretty mouth, Shayne. You’re getting me hard, and you’ve already told me no. Don’t set me up for disappointment.”

“Sorry,” I laugh, patting the space beside me and watching as he instantly moves into my side, curling his arm over my shoulder and pulling me into the safety of his warm body. I relax into him. I’ve been sleeping in their arms every night and remaining as close to them as humanly possible just to have that warmth and feeling of home that I get when I’m close to them. When they hold me, nothing can hurt me, not even the bad memories, and over the past few days, I’ve become dependent on it. “Tell me something.”

“Like what?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know … anything. We have an hour to kill. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Marcus grins and shoots his stare across the room to Levi who has done nothing but sit across the bunker minding his own damn business. “Have I ever told you about the time I caught Levi jerking off to Ronald McDonald?”

What the actual fuck?

Levi’s head snaps up as Roman groans from his bed, knowing all too well what the next hour is going to consist of. “I was not,” Levi demands, his eyes wide as he looks at me, shaking his head. “I swear, babe. I don’t have a fucking clown fetish. I was getting off to the chick on the opposite page. It’s not my fault there was a full-page McDonalds advertisement on the next page.”

A grin pulls at my lips as I pinpoint my entertainment for the next hour. “Really? Are you sure? Because if you need me to wear a red wig and paint my nose red, I will, but I draw the line at the big, floppy clown shoes.”

Levi shakes his head. “Fuck me,” he breathes, leaning back against the wall as he glares at Marcus. “Thirteen fucking years we managed to never bring that up. Thirteen years, bro. I thought you had my back.”

Marcus laughs, his eyes twinkling with the type of secret he knows will bury him. “It’s cute you think that over the space of thirteen years, I haven’t told every motherfucker who came my way.”

Levi’s face drops, mortification taking over his sharp, handsome features. “I swear, dickwad, if you weren’t barely holding on right now, I’d fucking shred you to pieces.”

Marcus winks, taunting his brother. “That’s cute too.”

The boys get into it, throwing insults back and forth as I relax deeper into Marcus’ side, feeling truly at peace for the first time in over a week. Their insults are perfect, deadly, and wicked in all the right ways, and it makes me wonder just how many long nights they spent in that big-ass castle doing this exact thing, forcing themselves to get creative to keep on top of the game.

It’s not long before Roman stands, and I gaze up at the big clock.

8:59 pm.

He moves into my side, offering me his hand, and I take it greedily before he pulls me up from the ground. “You ready?” he questions, leading me toward the heavy, metal door as Levi cuts in front of us and slowly pulls the lock out of place.

Taking a deep breath, I look up into Roman’s adoring eyes as Marcus subtly moves in behind me, his hand pressed to the back of my hip, ready to propel me forward if needed. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” he says, looking up at the clock once again. “It’s game time.”

Not even a second passes before the power cuts off, and if Mick is as good as he says he is, then it’s not just the warehouse that’s out—it’s the whole fucking city. Every camera, every scanner, every streetlight, completely out, making it nearly impossible to track our movements.

The door swings wide and we take off like fucking bats out of hell, having only two minutes and sixteen seconds to race up six flights of stairs, break out of the warehouse, and get to the new ride Mick stashed in the storage facility halfway down the block before the city generators kick in and the power restores.

From there, we’ll be able to start a new life. At least, Mick promised that he would fill the car with everything we would need to start fresh if that’s what we decide, but I can’t see that happening any time soon. Not going to lie though, I appreciate that he went and bought us each new clothes and made sure to have refills of all the medication the boys are dosed up on.

Levi runs out in front as Roman grips my hand, pulling me along. The door of the stairwell has been left unlocked, and I can only assume that the one at the top has been too. It takes less than four seconds for us to hit the very first step, and even less for the boys to start racing up them like it’s their greatest challenge.

The noise of our feet thunders in the hollow stairwell, echoing up and bouncing off every wall. Levi takes them two at a time as Marcus keeps right on my heels, his hand still on my hip, propelling me up the stairs at a speed that scares the shit out of me.

The need to comment on just how strenuous this is on their bodies rattles me, but every sentence I try to form gets replaced with silent chanting. Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall.

The first floor passes with ease, and by the time we’re reaching the top of the second, my thighs are starting to burn. I’m sure the boys could do this kind of shit all day. Fuck, I bet they even used to practice it up and down the castle steps, but not me. Running really isn’t my thing, but an elliptical? No, absolutely not. No sir. There’s a reason I’ve never had a gym membership, but if this is what my future is going to look like, then perhaps it’s about time I sign up.

“Don’t slow down on me, baby,” Marcus says, feeling the resistance as he tries to push me up the stairs. “I’ve seen the way you fuck. Those thighs have more fucking endurance than mine. You can handle this.”

He’s right. I can ride those fuckers for hours on end, even with my thighs burning. It’s just mind over matter. When I’m riding them, I’m pushing for that sweet release at the end, and this is no different. If I put in the work, I’ll be rewarded on the other end. It’s just a different kind of reward this time.

I push myself faster, matching Levi’s steps in front of me. “You’re a fucking goddess, Shayne,” Roman says, noticing the newfound fire burning through my veins as he silently keeps track of the time.

We pass the third floor.

Fourth floor.

Fifth floor.

Ignoring the ache, I push through it, forcing myself faster until I can barely feel Marcus’ hand at my hip, and before I know it, we’re crashing through the door at the top, bringing us right out into the pitch-black warehouse. I can’t see shit, but the guys seem to have this place mentally mapped out as though they have spent every waking hour of their lives preparing for this very moment.

Voices call out across the warehouse, and I strain to hear them over the rapid beating of my pulse against my eardrum. I don’t doubt they can hear the sound of our feet slamming against the warehouse flooring as we storm through here like a fucking tornado, but before I can give them a second thought, we’re racing out through a side door and into the cold night.

“Time?” Levi calls over his shoulder.

“A minute, twenty-eight,” Roman calls back, his hand tightening in mine.

“Fuck,” Levi growls, picking up his pace.

That took too long. We still have to get down the street and break into a storage locker. It’s probably been left unlocked, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s only so much we can do within the space of two minutes and sixteen seconds.

My feet pound against the ground, and I push myself harder, determined to make this happen. My chest rises with sharp pants, and I feel myself beginning to slip, but Marcus is right there, pressing against me and taking the strain. As long as I keep my legs moving, he can propel each of my steps further and further.

It won’t be long. All we have to do is get inside that storage locker and then I can stop. After everything we’ve suffered through together, I refuse to allow a quick sprint to be my downfall. Hell no, if I’m going down, it’ll be during a fucking war with a crown on top of my goddamn head and my men at my back.

“Twenty seconds,” Roman grunts just as I see the storage facility up ahead, the very sight of it lighting a fire under my ass and giving me a target to aim for. It’s not so bad. We can make that … I think.

Ten seconds pass before we’re finally sprinting into the complex and rounding the corner. All the storage garages look exactly the same and my eyes dart from side to side, conscious of the big lights and cameras surrounding us. They’re still out, but it won’t be long now. Only a few more seconds.

“There,” Levi calls out, pointing across the lot. “Number eight.”

We sprint, all too aware of our time quickly dwindling. “Five seconds,” Roman calls as Levi reaches the old roller door. He doesn’t hesitate, reaching down and gripping the little handle before tearing the door up.

“Three,” Roman says. “Two.”

Panic tears at me as Marcus pushes against my back, taking us that final step and crossing into the safety of the storage shed just as the power flickers back to life.

I collapse against the brand-new Escalade, my face squishing against the shiny midnight paint. “Holy fuck,” I pant, unable to catch my breath as Marcus braces his elbows against the hood, his forehead dipping into his hand. “Are you good?”

His jaw clenches and he glances down at his waist, gently pulling his shirt up to see a trickle of blood sailing down his tight abs, dripping along the harsh curve of his V. “Shit,” he says, pressing his shirt against the wound to mop up the blood before it can make much more of a mess. “I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

I nod, feeling it more than he could know, and that’s without a stab wound or a life-threatening infection. If I were in his position, I would have given up by the second flight of stairs, yet every fucking moment of this he proves to me just how strong he really is.

Fuck, I’m seriously out of shape.

Roman walks to the driver’s door as I quickly look around the small storage garage, double checking that we’re not about to be sprung. “There are no cameras in here,” Roman says, reading my thoughts, “but that doesn’t mean the night guard hasn’t been alerted to an open door. We have to move. Now.”

My tongue rolls over my dry lips, and I nod, knowing he has a damn good point, but actually getting my legs to move again is going to be a struggle. My knees give out and I stumble around to the back passenger door as Marcus and Levi take the other side. “You know,” I say, passing Roman as I reach for the handle. “I could always drive.”

Roman laughs, tearing open the door and instantly climbing in before quickly searching out the keys. He reaches up and drops the visor down, grinning as the keys fall directly into his waiting hand. “No chance in hell,” he tells me, watching me through the rearview mirror as I get comfortable behind him.

All four doors close, one by one with heavy thuds, and before I can even ask where we’re heading, the shiny Escalade is roaring to life, the vibrations of the engine rocking the whole damn thing.

Roman doesn’t waste another damn second and hits the gas, the momentum pressing my back flat against my seat. The tires squeal and all too soon, we’re peeling out of the storage facility and racing past Giovanni’s warehouse like criminals on the run.

18

The Escalade pulls to a stop outside a large country property, and I stare out the window, my brows furrowed in confusion. “Is this where we’re staying?” I question as Roman pulls the small button to put his window down.

“Hell no,” Marcus says, his face scrunching up at the small cabin-style home that looks as though it’s about to fall over. “Even in desperation, I still have five-star taste.”

I scoff, suppressing the comment sitting on the tip of my tongue as Roman leans out his open window, pressing his fingers to his lips and letting out an ear shattering wolf whistle that immediately has my head pounding.

“What the hell was that—”

The words fall away as I see Dill and Doe come bounding through the massive country property, their tongues lolling out the side of their mouths while their tails wag from side to side like two happy little murder puppies. They’re so carefree that I find myself watching them with awe, my chest constricting with a fierce jealousy. God, what I’d give to have that.

Soon. Really soon, I promise myself.

Levi climbs out of the Escalade, and by the time he reaches the trunk and has the door wide open, Dill and Doe are already there, jumping into the massive trunk space and shoving their enormous heads through, their hot, meaty breath slamming into my face.

I hold back a gag, unable to push their heads away simply because of the happiness in their eyes at seeing the boys alive and well. Levi gets back in, and within seconds, Roman is pulling the car around and hitting the gas, leaving nothing but dust in our wake.

We drive for another few hours, and it doesn’t take long before Marcus is uncomfortable and fidgeting in his seat. He twists around, reclining his chair and trying to stretch out. I don’t blame the guy, there’s nothing wrong with me except for a bruised ego and a shitload of dark thoughts that plague my every waking hour, and even I’m ready to get out of this car.

Only a few short days ago, I would have killed to be able to spend long ass hours cramped in a car with these three guys. Now that I know they’re on the brink of being perfectly fine, that reckless desperation inside of me has begun to ease.

Now, I’m only plagued with a deep anger and hate. It fuels me like never before.

By the time Roman is pulling down a familiar driveway, Marcus is sprawled across the backseat, his head in my lap and my fingers knotted in his messy hair. “Here? Really?” I ask in surprise, glancing out the window at the big mansion I thought I’d never see again.

My question stirs Marcus to open his eyes and sit up. He glances out the window, his brows arching just as mine had. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, looking to the front seat of the car and studying the hard set of Roman’s jaw. Concern laces his dark eyes, but it’s clear that Levi and Marcus are just as surprised to be here.

Roman doesn’t answer my question and realizing that one is never coming, I turn my gaze back to the charred remains of the home Roman built. It was only a few short weeks ago that we burned this fucker to the ground … with their uncle inside of it.

The fire decimated the front half of the massive property, but there’s still plenty of it left for us to hide out in until we find our bearings. At least, I hope there is. Who knows what it actually looks like inside. It’s definitely a risk being here, but what other options do we have? I don’t think Giovanni would come here. He would have written this place off the moment it burned to the ground.

Roman brings the Escalade right to the top of the circle driveway and cuts the engine. He pauses for a moment, taking in a deep sigh that the boys don’t notice, but I do. It’s clear that he hates what we did here, that this project he loved so much was destroyed, despite it being taken away from him. But he would have done it a million times over if it meant keeping me and his brothers safe.

Levi walks around the Escalade and opens my door for me, unintentionally robbing me of the chance to grill Roman about his headspace. Slipping out of the car, Levi takes my hand, and just when I think he’s about to lead me around the back of the Escalade to let Dill and Doe out, they come bounding out after me, jumping straight over the backseat.

Marcus leads the way with me and Levi just behind him, but it’s not until we hit the bottom step of the charred mansion that I hear the final door of the car open and close. Roman is silent as he follows us up the grand entrance, but despite not saying a damn thing, I feel him there. His presence can’t be ignored. He’s just that kind of guy who walks into a room and has the eye of every last person without even trying. He’s a natural born leader, just like Marcus and Levi. But unlike his brothers, that alpha bullshit seems to radiate out of him without even trying.

Marcus stops by the remains of the front door, and honestly, there’s not much to look at. He gives it a gentle push and the expensive charred wood crumbles. Not wanting to dwell or twist the knife already protruding from Roman’s chest, Marcus silently continues, stepping over the front door burial site and continuing deeper into the foyer.

He sucks in a breath, and that’s the only warning I get to prepare myself as Levi tightens his hold on my hand and leads me into the mansion.

“Shit,” I say, letting out a shaky breath of my own as Levi follows. I come to a stop in the center with Levi stepping in behind me, his hands at my shoulders as we each take in the destruction. It looks bad from the outside, but in here, it looks so much worse.

Marcus moves around in a wide circle, needing to take a closer look as I hear a soft “Fucking hell,” murmured from the non-existent door.

My heart breaks and as if sensing that need in me to question him, he silently moves away, avoiding me like the plague as he makes his way through the foyer. He passes the sitting room to our left which was used as Victor’s personal barbeque room and deviates his stare before moving through the front portion of the mansion, his back stiff and taut as waves of emotion roll off him.

Glancing up at Levi with a wide, concerned gaze, I silently ask him what the hell I’m supposed to do. I hate that Roman is feeling this so heavily, that his heart is most likely shattering inside his chest as I stand back and do absolutely nothing.

Levi gives me a tight smile and pulls me into his chest, his strong arm curling around my body. He dips his head toward me, and I close my eyes as his warm lips press against my temple. “Go,” he murmurs, his words so low that Marcus and Roman, who are barely a few steps away, won’t hear. “I don’t know what he needs, but I know you’re a part of it.”

His soft lips move away enough for me to raise my head, and without skipping a beat, I push up onto my tiptoes and capture them in mine. Our kiss is brief and gives me just a fraction of the closeness I’ve been craving over the past week and a half.

Stepping away from his side, I move through the charred remains of the foyer, passing Marcus, who gives me a tight smile, his fingers softly brushing mine as I go. By the time I catch up to Roman, we’re moving through the back portion of the foyer and into a wide-open living space. It’s just as charred and ruined as the grand entrance, but it holds a little hope that things might get better.

His sharp gaze travels over the living space as we walk through it, not stopping to take in the minor details, but I don’t doubt that he’s silently working out a game plan to restore it.

Moving into his side, I allow my fingers to brush up against his, and he greedily takes my hand, linking our fingers before looping our joined hands over my shoulder and drawing me into his side. Looking up at him, I take in the sharp set of his jaw, his deep, dark eyes that look so broken, and the slight frown resting on his lips.

Pulling him to a stop, I reach up with my other hand and curl it around the back of his neck, my thumb resting along his jaw. His eyes drop to mine, and for only a moment, he lets me see just how deeply the devastation burns within him.

My thumb moves back and forth over his jaw as I slowly move closer into him, his other hand dropping to my hip as his forehead gently presses against mine. “Are you okay?” I murmur, the heaviness between us weighing us both down.

Roman scoffs and raises his head just enough to press his lips against my forehead. “It’s a home, Shayne. Four walls and a bit of interior design. It’s nothing that I can’t rebuild, but that’s nothing compared to what you’re going through.” He drops his gaze, letting it bore into mine just enough to prepare me for where he’s going with this. “I should be asking you the same question.”

I immediately look away, not ready to go there. Not even close.

I begin pulling out of his arms, and despite his better judgment and every little need to hold on to me, he lets me go. I’ve been scarred enough over the past few weeks, and there’s no way in hell that he’ll try to add to that in any way.

“The fuck is he talking about?” Marcus’ stern tone sounds through the heavy silence. Glancing back over my shoulder, I find Levi and Marcus, both watching me and Roman with furrowed brows, anger and confusion swirling in the dark depths of their eyes.

Fuck.

“It’s nothing,” I say, picking up my pace and moving through to the next room. “I’m fine. Roman shouldn’t have said anything.”

Roman scoffs, which only sets off the boys even more. If there’s anything they despise, it’s being left in the dark, especially where I’m concerned. Finding out that one of their brothers knows something and they haven’t had the decency to share? Now that is a betrayal of the most epic proportions.

“Shayne,” Levi demands as I try to scurry away, the memories of that day coming back to me in haunting waves, image after image assaulting my mind.

I push through a door and move into a room that didn’t get hit so hard from the fire, letting me know that maybe this mansion can be saved after all, but right now, it’s the furthest thing from my mind.

A hand curls around my elbow and I’m spun around to face all three angry DeAngelis brothers. Well, two of them are angry, the other looks a little sheepish—so fucking sheepish that he deserves a goddamn stiletto heel slammed up his ass. The fucker knew what he was doing. I’ve seen it on his face for days, desperate to question me, desperate to know the details just so he can dwell on them and fuel his hatred for his father. But bringing this up right now in front of his brothers, fuck. He’s going to get it, and it’s not going to be pleasant. This is all a ploy to avoid his own feelings about his home, and for that, he’s right at the very top of my shit list.

“The fuck is going on?” Marcus spits, his emotions always getting the better of him. “What are you keeping from me? From us?”

I clench my jaw, my heart racing like a fucking jaguar through the thickest jungle. My gaze snaps to Roman’s as I tear my elbow out of Levi’s strong grip. “Dead to me,” I spit, loving the way my words make him flinch. I don’t mean it, not really. Despite his moody assholish tendencies, I’m crazy in love with the fucker, but damn, do those words make me feel better, even if only for a second.

I storm away knowing all too well that there’s no way I can avoid this now. The boys will get the answer they want whether I’m ready to share it or not, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. But if I can make Roman hurt during the process, then that’s more than alright with me.

The boys storm behind me, and I barely even get a step away before Levi’s tone fires through the open room, betrayal thick in his voice, mixed with a sadness that pulls me up short. “We don’t keep secrets,” he murmurs. “Not here. Not now. Not after everything we’ve already suffered through. If there’s something you’re hiding from us …”

He lets the words fade away, but I still hear them loud and clear. He’s asking me why I don’t trust him, why after everything we’ve been through I still feel as though I can’t share part of myself with him, but that’s not it at all.

Agony spears through my chest, and I slowly turn to face him, hot tears stinging my eyes. “You seriously think that after all this time, after everything we’ve been through, that I still don’t trust you? That I would purposely keep secrets from you?” I question, the tears falling down my cheeks and staining the top of my tank. “Have you considered that maybe I’m not ready to discuss it? That I needed to see you guys get better before I thought about what I needed? That maybe I haven’t even come to terms with what happened? That I can’t even get the words to come out of my mouth because I’m so damn scared that they’re going to tear me to shreds all over again?”

I drop to my knees, my head instantly falling into my hands as heavy sobs tear from the back of my throat.

“Fuck,” Roman says, dropping down with me, pulling me into his arms and holding me close to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my neck as he speaks. “You’ve just been so strong over the past few days I thought maybe it wasn’t affecting you or that you’d just brushed it off as not being a big deal. You’ve always been so open with us, and you didn’t say shit. I almost convinced myself I’d imagined the whole fucking thing. I … I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, Shayne. Fuck. I shouldn’t have—”

“I’m not asking again,” Marcus demands in an authoritative roar, forcing my eyes up to his. “What the fuck is going on? Did someone hurt you while we were locked up? Gia? One of her men?”

Roman gently rubs my back, his other hand coming up to wipe away one of my many tears. “They need to know, Shayne. At some point, they’re going to try and get you alone. They’re going to kiss you and touch you and you’re going to let them because you don’t want to let them down, but you’ll be dying on the inside. We can’t take care of you if we don’t know what happened.”

My eyes flick to Levi, seeing the pieces beginning to fall into place. He watched his father’s syringe drive through my skin, he watched me fall to the ground, watched him take me away, but Marcus, he would have absolutely no recollection of what happened down there.

Levi shakes his head, horror flashing in his eyes while also a hint of self-loathing for not having questioned it sooner. “Tell me he didn’t put his hands on you,” he growls, his hands shaking at his sides.

“The fuck?” Marcus spits, his stare coming straight back to mine. “What the hell are they talking about? Who put their hands on you, and why the fuck am I just hearing about this now?”

Taking a few deep breaths, I try to calm myself. As much as I want to tell Roman to go and eat a flying dick, he’s right. I might not be ready to discuss it, to have to face everything that went down, but sooner rather than later, Marcus or Levi are going to touch me, and it’s going to send me into a world of devastation. They need to know, they all do, and from there, we can figure out a way to help me move forward.

Wiping my eyes, I get to my feet and take a hesitant step back, leaning against the wall that was once pristine and white, but is now covered in soot, burn marks, and dirt.

Reaching out, I take Marcus’ hand, wanting to ease the fiery desperation pulsing through his veins as Roman gets back to his feet. The three of them crowd me, and despite wanting all the space in the world, I let them be close.

My gaze cuts across to Roman’s. “It’s not just what you think it is,” I start, the ugliness pulsing through my veins and pooling deep in my chest as his brows furrow in confusion. “After he, you know,” I start, rubbing my hand over the side of my neck where Giovanni had shot me up with drugs. “I woke up in my old bedroom. I would have only been out for a few hours. My wrists and ankles were tied down to the bed and—”

“No,” Marcus breathes, moving even closer as his hold tightens on my hand. “My father raped you, didn’t he?”

My gaze falls away, not having the strength to look any of them in the eyes. “Yes,” I finally say, swallowing over the lump in my throat.

Marcus lets out a pained breath, dropping his forehead to my shoulder as Levi turns away, slamming his fists against the wall and bracing himself there. He takes rapid breaths, barely holding on to his last shred of self-control, while needing a moment to himself to come to terms with what I just said. But I can’t let them fall apart yet, if they’re going to hear me, then they’re going to hear it all.

“It’s more than just that,” I tell them, my hand slipping under Marcus’ shirt and pressing against his chest, needing to feel the solid beat of his heart beneath my palm, reminding me that somehow, through all of this, we’re still alive.

“What more could there be?” Roman questions, moving closer to my other side and gripping my hand in his like it’s his only lifeline.

My gaze remains down, and I focus on Levi’s back, watching the way his shirt strains against his body, the material stretching over his muscles. There’s a small sliver of skin peeking through at the bottom of his shirt, and I can’t take my eyes off it, focusing hard as I let the words fall from my mouth. “I was bound to the bed when three of your fathers guards came in.”

Marcus sucks in a breath, his hand tightening in mine to the point of pain. “No,” I rush out, “not that.”

He immediately relaxes his hold, but not quite as much as it was before. “What happened?” he prompts.

Letting out another breath, I continue. “They came into my room and cut me from my binds. Stripped me bare and forced me into a shower. They watched as I washed myself then threw a razor at me. They made me shave everything while their filthy stares lingered on my body. I didn’t even get privacy to use the toilet. I … even after what your father did to me, I think that might have been the most humiliating part about it.”

Tears fall from my eyes again as Roman kisses my temple. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.”

I hold on to his words, closing my eyes and allowing them to sink in and find purchase somewhere deep inside of me.

I’m safe now.

I’m safe.

Keeping my gaze locked on that small sliver of skin that peeks out from beneath Levi’s shirt, I watch as he slowly turns and watches me back. “I was told to make myself look nice, given a whole bunch of makeup and hair products, and after twenty minutes, I was told to dress in the silk wedding gown hanging off the closet door.”

All three of them curse as another tear rolls down my cheek, but I tune them out, knowing if I were to stop one more time, I probably won’t be able to keep going. “I was taken to the church. All of your family was there, and they watched me with sneers on their faces, as though they knew I was Gia’s blood. They didn’t give a shit that I was just a regular girl being forced to marry a man three times her age. They didn’t care what was going to happen to me, or even gave a shit when he hit me in front of the whole fucking congregation.”

I let out a shaky breath and avert my eyes lower to the ground. “When it came to the vows, I refused. I wanted to fight it, but he forced me to do it. He …”

“What did he do?” Marcus spits through a clenched jaw.

My broken and scared gaze lifts to Marcus’ dark eyes, looking back at me with nothing but love. He doesn’t pity me, doesn’t look at me as though I’m dirty or used. Don’t get me wrong, he’s pissed. Fucking pissed to be finding out like this days later, pissed that I wasn’t open straight away, pissed that it even happened in the first place, but that love in his eyes gives me just that little bit of strength I need to push on. “He had a live feed of you in your cell. One of his guys … they were hurting you. They were going to kill you if I didn’t go through with it, and I … I couldn’t let that happen. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t have done to save you guys. You have to know that.”

“Shhhhhh,” Roman soothes, wiping at a tear. “You don’t have to explain yourself to us. We would have done exactly the same thing had you been in our position. You are our number one priority. We love you, Shayne, like that deep gut-wrenching type of love that is definitely going to kill us one day. We know you’d save us even if it meant giving up your own life because we would do the same fucking thing for you.”

He presses his lips back to my temple, and I take a few calming breaths, letting my heart slow once again. Closing my eyes, I try to focus. “He shoved me in a car and I was sent back to the castle. The driver dragged me back inside, and I swear, I tried to fight it. I tried to get away, but the dress and his size … I just … I couldn’t. He took me back up the stairs and forced a pill down my throat and then walked away.”

A chill sails down my throat, remembering the feel of the guard on top of me, forcing the pill into my mouth and then pouring the water. “The second he left, I ran into the bathroom to throw it up, but by the time I came out, your father was already there and the pill … I don’t know what it was, but I was already dizzy and my muscles … I couldn’t control myself. I fell and your father grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to the bed.”

Tears fall down my face, staining my shirt as my voice breaks, the pain quickly catching up to me. “I tried to fight him off, I swear. He cut my contraceptive rod out of my arm and was talking shit about how easily he’d taken Felicity and—”

I cut myself off. There’s no point in telling the rest. They know what happened.

Levi meets my stare and pushes off the opposite wall, walking into me. Marcus and Roman inch aside and I fall into his strong chest, closing my eyes as his arms curl around me. “You got out of there, Shayne. That’s all that matters. You survived to tell your story and now, you get to be the one who destroys him.”

19

The deeper into the mansion we go, the more we find that survived the blazing fire. There are cars in the underground garage left completely untouched, a fully stocked kitchen, bedrooms and living areas. If this mansion had been smaller, maybe it wouldn’t have lived to tell the story, but as it is, there’s enough room for us to lay low and piece together a plan to destroy Giovanni DeAngelis… and hell, if that plan just happens to fuck with Gia too, then I’m good with that.

Naturally, the power to the mansion is about as fucked as Giovanni is going to be, but as long as we have food and water, then we’re going to be just fine. Though, I’m not going to lie, the fully loaded armory that survived the fire is also a bonus.

We sit in a dark living room with a blanket over my lap as I curl into Marcus’ side on the couch. Levi disappeared to the only surviving kitchen ten minutes ago, while Roman has been searching the mansion for some kind of lighter or matches to start the fire in front of us.

It’s a cold night, and while we could each go to separate bedrooms, all of which look as though they’ve never been lived in, the thought of being separated right now doesn’t sit well with me. Despite us basically living on top of each other for the past few days, I still can’t bear to let them out of my sight. So, a living room couch slumber party it is.

Marcus scoots down on the oversized couch, adjusting the thick blanket over his lap as his fingers draw small circles on my shoulder. “You good?” he murmurs, turning his face into me and pressing his lips against my head in a lingering kiss.

I smash my lips into a tight line and snuggle deeper into his side. It’s only been an hour since the four of us stood in the charred hallway and I spilled my deepest shame, and since then, the boys haven’t left me alone for even a second. One of them has always been with me, holding me, watching me, checking that I’m not about to break.

“I’m alright,” I murmur, my gaze shifting to the massive fireplace directly in front of us, finding it easier to relax in this darkness. “I just … I wish you guys didn’t have to know all of that. It makes me feel … I don’t know, kinda dirty.”

His body tightens beneath mine, and without hesitation, Marcus grabs me and sets me down over his thick thighs so he can stare right into my eyes. “You listen to me, Shayne Mariano,” he demands, gripping my chin and holding my stare as my hands fall to his waist, knotting into the soft fabric of his shirt. “You are a lot of things. When we first took you, you were innocent—”

“Innocent?” I scoff, cutting him off. “I was hardly innocent. I let you chain me up and fuck me with the handle of a knife, and if I recall correctly, I was begging for more. That hardly screams innocent.”

Marcus grins. “No, you’re right. You definitely weren’t innocent, but you were sure as fuck a different, softer version of this woman you are now. You’ve been through hell, and yes, some of that was at our hands. You’ve got scars no woman should have to bear and the kind of nightmares that would scare even the devil himself. You’re fierce, loyal, destructive, and fucking gorgeous in every possible way. Me and my brothers have never been so lucky to have stumbled upon you. You’ve made us whole again and given us a purpose when we were on the cusp of giving up. You are a lot of things, but dirty is not one of them.”

I glance away, his words equally spreading warmth through me while also making me feel cold and empty. “I am,” I insist, taking his hand and placing it on my thigh. “When you touch me here, all I picture is his hand. When you lean into me, I remember the feel of his body against mine. I'm so scared that when I finally feel you inside of me again, I know exactly what’s going to go through my head, and nothing can take that dirty feeling away. I know you don’t see me that way, none of you do, but I can’t help feeling it. When I’m with you guys, I’m willingly handing my body over, but with him … he stole it and abused it as though he had every right, and the body I received back doesn’t feel like my own … not anymore.”

Marcus trails his fingers over the side of my face, pushing my hair back before I lean into his touch, wishing there were some way for him to strip me of that pain.

Tears threaten to spill as I lift my gaze and meet his stare once again. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to give myself to you guys again without feeling … that.”

Marcus’ hand slips lower on my face before curling around the back of my neck and pulling me down to him. He’s gentle and gives me the chance to pull away if I need it. But I go because being close to him, being close to any of them, is the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

My hands brace against his strong chest as my forehead comes down on his. “You know I love you, right?” he questions. “You are my whole fucking world. There’s not a goddamn thing I wouldn’t do to make you happy. I will do whatever it takes to help you feel comfortable in your own skin again. If that means not touching you, or sleeping in different beds, then I’ll do it. Just say the word, babe. I’m not going to push you, and you need to know that Roman and Levi won’t either. The ball is in your court, and we don’t want you being afraid to speak up about what you need because you’re too caught up worrying about what we want. Do you understand me, Shayne? All we want in this whole fucking world is to see you rise like a phoenix and get everything you deserve and more.”

A soft sigh escapes and I raise my chin just a bit to feel my lips resting against his. I kiss him softly, his words meaning more to me than he will ever know. “I love you, too,” I murmur, my lips moving against his.

A silent moment passes between us, each of us simply living in the moment of being in each other’s arms until I finally push back up onto his thighs. My eyes remain on his as Roman walks back into the room, heading straight for the fireplace and giving us our moment together. “What about you?” I ask him. “That was a lot of moving around we did today. That sprint up the stairs and to the storage facility couldn’t have been easy on you.”

Marcus shrugs a shoulder, his hand still on my thigh as he moves his thumb back and forth. “I’m fine, babe. Nothing a few days with you in my arms won’t fix.”

A grin tears across my face, and I quickly shake my head. “Don’t even try to butter me up with that bullshit, Marcus DeAngelis. I just spent three days locked in a bunker with you. I know when you’re trying to distract me.” His eyes darken just a bit and I raise my brow. “What’s wrong?”

He lets out a sigh and reluctantly pulls up his shirt, showing me the angry redness spreading around his wound and the dried blood from where he tore his stitches during our frantic run. “Shit,” I gasp as Roman works on the fireplace behind me. I drop my fingers to the angry swelling and gently prod at it, hating the way Marcus hisses under the pressure. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Marc gives me a look that suggests I should be able to figure this one out on my own, but I simply stare right back, forcing him to say the words out loud just to hear how ridiculous they sound.

He lets out a sigh and peers down at the wound. “What can I say, babe? You will always come first.”

Rolling my eyes, I let out a heavy breath and peer toward the entrance of the massive living room, but with no sign of Levi, I turn back and take in Roman who has a warm fire steadily building. “Have you seen Levi?” I ask. “Marc—”

“Marcus doesn’t need that asshole poking and prodding at him anymore,” Marc cuts in. “Just slap a Band-Aid on it and I’ll be fine. I swear,” he adds, seeing the look on my face. “I won’t move from this spot all night and I’ll be as good as new come morning.”

Letting out a huff, I climb off his lap and cross the room to the box of medications and first aid supplies that Mick gave us. I return to his side a moment later with everything he needs, not hesitating to crawl back onto his lap. Pulling his shirt right over his head, I do my best to concentrate on the wound and not the masterpiece beneath me.

Getting straight to work, I spread an antiseptic cream over his wound, slowly massaging it in before bandaging it up, knowing all too well that he’s over being stitched up. There’s enough there to hold the wound and with a few more days to just chill, he should be as good as new. I don’t know anything about internal wounds, but Levi has assured me that as long as they all take it easy from here on out, we should be on the home stretch.

Grabbing the bottle of water by the side of the couch, I force medication down Marcus’ throat, grinning as he scrunches his face. “What’s the matter? Not enough practice having things shoved down your throat? I could give you some pointers,” I laugh as Levi waltzes back into the room, his arms full of food, though from what I can tell in the dark, it’s nothing nutritious, but it’s probably the best we’ve got.

Marcus grins right back at me and the best kind of warmth spreads through my chest. I hate that my issues are going to keep him from having me the way he really wants and needs, but he’ll keep his hands off at all costs because that’s just the amazing kind of guy he is. Doesn’t change the fact that I want to … I just don’t know how it’s going to go. I owe it to them and myself to at least try.

My tongue rolls over my bottom lip as nerves settle into my stomach. “What’s wrong?” he asks, sitting up a little straighter, sensing the change in me. His question instantly gets the attention of Roman and Levi, and all three of them watch me as though I’m about to break all over again.

Quickly shaking my head to ease their worries, I reach forward, nervously biting my bottom lip before swallowing hard. “I want to try something,” I murmur, leaning closer and closer. His brows furrow, having absolutely no idea where I’m going with this, but willing, nonetheless. “I want to kiss you,” I tell him. “Like really kiss you, but you have to promise to let me be in control. You can’t reach for me, can’t grab me, or deepen the kiss beyond anything I’m already doing. Not even a groan, Marc. I know you have a hard time handing over control, but I … I need to know.”

He nods, his eyes focused on mine, and for a moment, I swear he looks just as nervous as I feel, something I’ve never seen in him before. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, remaining as still as a statue, letting me slowly move into him. “I’ve got you, baby. Anything you need.”

Fear and anxiety build in my stomach, and the closer I get, the harder it becomes to push past it, but I trust Marcus with everything that I am. If I need to stop, he won’t think twice about it or be upset about not getting what he needs from me. He won’t hold it against me for even a second.

My breath becomes shaky as I press a hand against his chest to brace myself. His hands fall away from my body, making me aware of them the entire time.

My hand shakes against his chest but I don’t dare stop, determined to see exactly what Giovanni has cost me.

I swallow hard over the lump in my throat, and then just like that, the gap closes and my lips press down on his. So far, so good. This isn’t anything I haven’t already explored with them, so I close my eyes and allow myself to sink into him, slightly deepening the kiss.

I feel Roman and Levi’s curious stares, each of them more than ready to pull me away if Marc even looks like he’s at risk of losing control and pushing my boundaries. But a second passes and as my tongue pushes inside his mouth and I melt into him, the fear dissolves.

I kiss him greedily, taking everything that I’ve missed from him over the past few days. He matches my hunger, but doesn’t dare push me further than what I’m ready to give. His hands remain where they are until I physically reach down and place them on my body. He pulls me in tighter but doesn’t hold me flush against him like I know he’s dying to do, giving me space to pull back if and when that time comes.

Seeing that I’m perfectly fine, Levi and Roman get back to what they were doing, leaving me to kiss Marcus with everything I’ve got. I haven’t dared kiss any of them with more than a small peck since finding them in the cells, and I don’t doubt the jealousy is eating at Roman and Levi, but they’re also very patient men … not Marcus though. He’s a different breed.

My body melts into his, and I kiss him a moment longer until a soft groan pulls from the back of my throat. I don’t intend on pushing my boundaries, only exploring where they are, so I gently pull back from him, my breath coming hard and fast.

Marc holds me just in front of him, our eyes meeting through the darkness. “You good?” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against the side of my face, pushing back that same strand of hair he only moved a few minutes ago. The nervousness still shines in his eyes, and he looks unsure if he did the right thing.

Swallowing hard, I nod, feeling the warmth exploding through me, spreading through my veins, and strengthening something I thought I no longer possessed. “Never been better,” I whisper, a smile playing on my lips. “Thank you.”

“Wow,” he says, that nervousness fading away. “Can’t say I’ve ever had someone thank me before.”

Levi scoffs, jamming a crisp chip into his mouth. “Probably because you’ve never actually listened to what a woman wants before,” he says, before adding with a wicked smirk. “Or maybe because our girl here didn’t realize you were actually capable of satisfying her without the use of your cock.”

Marcus grabs the water bottle by the side of the couch and launches it at Levi’s head, his aim perfect as always. I laugh and slide off Marcus’ lap, moving back in beside him and curling into his side, feeling a million times better about myself. It was only a kiss, a fucking good one at that, but I don’t doubt that my issues finish there. There’s still one more important test, but I’m not ready for that, not yet.

The fire crackles and lights up the room with a soft orange hue that somehow helps me to relax. The boys sink into their couches, laying back and enjoying the silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. My eyes grow heavy, and just as I’m about to fall into a deep sleep across Marcus’ lap, I hear Levi’s soft murmurs across the room. “This is our last chance,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on the blazing fire. “Whatever we decide to do, we need to make it count. We cannot fail this because the alternative … him winning and taking Shayne again. I won’t accept it. We do this, or we fucking die trying.”

Roman nods. “No more fucking around.”

“So, what’s the plan?” I murmur on a yawn. “Find the baby, kill Giovanni, destroy what’s left of the DeAngelis family and rise up in its spot?”

Levi scoffs. “Close, but no. We can’t take that baby, not anymore.”

I push up off Marcus’ lap, my brows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?” I question, looking to Roman for some kind of back up, but getting nothing. “We’re rescuing that baby no matter what. That is your brother we’re talking about.”

Levi’s lips press into a hard line, and for a moment, he looks sick with what he’s about to say but pushes through it. “No, Shayne. I know your heart is in the right spot, but before, we thought that child was Roman’s son, our nephew, but he’s not. Since finding out that child is biologically my father’s, it’s not rescuing him, it’s kidnapping.”

I scoff. “Since when do you assholes have an aversion to kidnapping?”

Levi glances at Roman who leans forward, bracing his elbows against his knees and dropping his chin into his hands. “I don’t know, Empress. I think we need to focus on taking out Giovanni first. The rest will follow. Going after the baby, it’s too risky.”

I stand and shake my head. “Absolutely not. Think about the childhood you had. That man is about to inflict that same hell on your brother, your blood. He needs you three more than ever. I made a promise to Felicity as she died in my arms. I told her that I would protect her son, that I would save him, and as long as he remains in Giovanni’s care, I’m failing. We are going after that baby no matter what it costs. Even if I have to do it on my own.”

I give the guys a hard stare, letting them see just how serious I am. “So, what’s it going to be? Are you with me, or against me?”

Roman clenches his jaw. “That child was born out of deceit and betrayal.”

“Yeah,” I scoff, anger boiling deep inside of me. “He was. The woman you loved, the woman you wanted to marry was manipulated and raped over and over again, and all three of you missed it, just as we all missed the fact that she was being held down in Giovanni’s desert cells. She might have lied to you to protect herself, but she also loved that child, and because of that, we owe it to her to save her child, your brother. I know you’re hurting. I know you had hopes for that child to be your son, but you need to put that aside to see what’s important in life. You have a chance to make a difference, and fuck, Roman, if you don’t, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at you the same.”

Then with that, I turn on my heel and stalk out of the room, leaving the guys to stew on it, knowing damn well that in the end, they will do the right thing.

20

A chill sweeps through the big living room and I lift my head off Marcus’ chest, my eyes squinting into the night. The fire is barely holding on, and I let out a soft groan, pulling back the blankets and peeling myself away from the warmth of the couch and Marcus’ wide chest.

It must be somewhere around four in the morning. I don’t really know, but what I do know is that the three boys are all but dead to the world. Despite not being in the comfort of their own home with their own beds, they were long overdue for a good night’s rest where they could truly relax.

Padding across the big living room, I crouch down in front of the dying fire and reach for a few pieces of wood to feed the flames, hoping to not wake the guys.

Sitting for a while, I watch as the new wood catches and the flames grow larger, already beginning to re-heat the room. An undeserved pride tears through my chest, and I smile to myself as I stand and walk back over to the couch.

While the boys are doing much better and can just about withstand anything this fucked-up world throws at them, I can’t fathom how horrendous a man-flu would be to add to our list of things to conquer. Fuck, three of them with the man-flu at the same time…

A shiver trails down my spine.

Hell to the motherfucking no.

Quickly checking over the guys, I make sure they’re still asleep and let out a soft sigh. The week without them was hell, especially the first three-quarters of it when I thought they were dead. But seeing the lines on their troubled faces soften as they sleep—sprawled out on the couches and totally relaxed—that’s a feeling I will never tire of.

They’re okay. They’re safe. They’re healing.

We’re going to be alright.

Moving back to Marcus’ side, I reach over to the coffee table and grab some more painkillers and the antiseptic cream. Taking the blanket, I pull it down just enough not to disturb him before gripping the hem of his shirt.

Why does it always have to be Marcus? It wasn’t so long ago that he was healing from the gunshot wound. Don’t get me wrong, I will sit up night and day to help him get better, but it shatters my heart seeing him wounded.

As I remove the old bandage from his injury, my fingers brush lightly over his skin. His eyes flutter, and he drops his hand over mine. “You okay, baby?” he murmurs, too tired to open his eyes.

“Yeah,” I whisper, holding the painkillers to his mouth and tipping a bottle of water to his dry lips. “Take these and go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Marcus swallows the pills and lets me poke and prod at his wound, slowly massaging more cream into it before I quickly rebandage everything, wanting to disturb him as little as possible. He keeps his eyes closed, and while he looks as though he’s sleeping, I know better.

Once I’m done, my gaze raises to his face, and I reach for him, brushing my fingers over the soft skin of his forehead, my heart pounding with overwhelming fullness. “You know I’d burn down villages just to be able to have one more day with you?” he murmurs into the night, his voice so soft that I can barely make out the words.

A grin pulls at my lips, and I relax back into his side, folding my arm over his chest. “You know, when men make declarations like that, most women would roll their eyes at the dark promises they know their man would never actually follow through with, but you … you’d do it without even thinking twice, and that’s what scares me.”

A breathy laugh slips through his lips, gently vibrating against his chest. “Nobody ever said love wasn’t complicated,” he tells me, unashamed by his declaration of cold-blooded murder as his thumb brushes back and forth across my waist.

“Do me a favor,” I murmur, raising my head up off his chest to look at him. He peers back at me through tired eyes, a subtle smirk resting on his soft lips, patiently waiting. “Don’t burn down any villages.”

“Can’t make any promises,” he says with a wink.

Rolling my eyes, I drop back to his chest, the warmth of his body spreading through to mine as I grip the blanket and pull it up to my shoulder, more than ready to slip into a deep sleep. At least I would have if Dill hadn’t shot to his feet, his ears pricked and alert.

I watch him, my back stiffening as Marcus slowly drifts off again. “What is it?” I question, pushing up and watching as Dill crosses the big living room to the window, his tail dipped low, sending a wave of unease pulsing through my body.

A soft growl tears through his chest, and within moments, Doe is joining him, standing at his side, both their sharp gazes locked out the window. My hand falls to Marc’s thigh and I give it a rough shake. “Something’s wrong,” I say, pushing up from the couch and cutting across the room, joining the wolves by the window.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus questions, his sharp tone making Roman and Levi snap out of their deep slumber, all three of their heads whipping toward me, their laser-focused stares on my back.

I shake my head, having absolutely no fucking idea as I watch out the window, unable to see or sense whatever it is that has the wolves’ attention. “I don’t know, it’s too dark. I can’t make anything out, but something … I don’t know, something has the wolves about ready to attack.”

Strong hands press to my hips, and I suck in a surprised gasp as a hard chest presses into my back. I hadn’t heard any of them get up, but by this point, I shouldn’t be surprised. Roman hovers over me, staring out the window with a sharp gaze. Silence fills the living room, the only noise I hear is the heavy thumping of my pulse in my ears.

“Fuck,” Roman grunts just moments before I see it—a dark shadow cutting across the manicured lawn. But it’s more than that. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I’m finally able to see it, men everywhere, shadows moving through the property, surrounding us at every angle.

Roman grabs my elbow and pulls me back. “Keep away from the windows,” he rushes out, and before I can even respond, he’s gone, already across the room with his brothers, digging into the pile of weapons they ransacked from the armory for this very reason.

“How many?” Levi questions, preparing for a fucking battle that they’re not strong enough to endure, not yet. They’re still healing, Marcus especially.

Roman shakes his head. “Impossible to tell. It’s too dark. They have us surrounded.”

Fear rocks through me as I move toward the boys. “No,” I tell them. “It’s too soon. We’re not ready for this.”

Roman looks back at me while checking over his gun. “What do you want me to do, Empress? Shall I run down there and request they come back at a more convenient time? They’re going to come whether we’re ready or not, and we have no choice but to go out there and face this head on.”

“I know that,” I spit back at him, frustration quickly claiming me. “I just … I can’t lose you guys again.”

Roman sighs and steps away from his brothers, taking my hand. “You’re not going to lose us,” he tells me, pulling me into his chest and pressing a kiss to my temple. “We’ll get through this just as we’ve gotten through everything else. Now get yourself ready. I don’t want you out there unable to defend yourself.”

I swallow hard and nod before stepping out of his arms and between Levi and Marc. I grab all my favorites, strapping knives to my thighs and checking that my guns are fully loaded. How many times is a girl supposed to do this? Why is it so hard to hold on to my happiness?

Levi double-checks everything I go over, and it grates on my nerves, but I know he’s only doing it because he’s adamant about keeping me safe and protected, not because he doesn’t trust me.

Marc saunters over to the big window, watching the property with a keen eye, his sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. He glances down at the big wolves, and they watch him, waiting for some kind of command. Marc’s eyes sparkle with excitement, the very thought of shedding blood making his own pump faster through his veins. “Wanna go hunting?”

Dill makes an odd harumph sound, and without a backward glance, the two wolves bolt out of the living room, their favorite game about to be played in epic proportions. Marc turns back and meets my stare before looking at his brothers. “I’m going up to get a better vantage point,” he explains. “He wants her. He’s not here for us. You know that, right?” he adds, sending chills sweeping through my body. “If anything happens to her while I’m gone, I will tear your organs out through your mouths. Is that clear?”

“Got it, brother,” Levi snaps, almost offended that Marc would assume that I wouldn’t be perfectly safe with Roman and Levi … though, considering what happened last time, can I really blame him?

Marcus spares me one last lingering glance, and without so much as a goodbye kiss, he sprints from the room, determined to see this through. Roman and Levi move next, Levi’s hand falling to my lower back and leading me through the mansion, back through the charred remains that we’d painstakingly trudged through only a few short hours ago.

Roman shakes his head. “He shouldn’t have found us this fast.”

“He could have been watching the property,” Levi says.

Roman scoffs. “Or worse, he could have gotten to Mick.”

Levi curses as we reach the massive, charred foyer that used to be so spectacular, but now is nothing but destroyed soot and ruins. Roman moves toward the front window, peering out at the lawn, his brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” Levi questions.

“I don’t recognize any of these guards.”

I move in beside Roman, peering out to get a better look at what we’re about to face down. “Father has had nearly two weeks to replenish his guards after the last attempt on our lives. Just be prepared. Who knows what hole he dug these assholes out of,” Levi states.

My brows furrow, watching the dark shadows on the lawn slowly creep closer. They’re so formal, so in sync. “They’re not your father’s guards,” I tell them. “They’re Gia’s.”

“How do you know that?” Roman demands. “Do you recognize them?”

I shake my head. “No, but watch how they move. They’re well trained and have been working together for a while. Your father’s guards were always sloppy and didn’t know how to work as a team. Plus, look at their uniforms. They’re all exactly the same, like tin soldiers moving under one command.”

As if to confirm my theory, Gia Moretti, the bitch otherwise known as my mother, steps out of the darkness, Zeke at her side and a shitload of nerves break through my tough exterior.

“Fuck,” Roman sighs, his gaze coming back to mine. “I can only imagine what she wants.”

Swallowing hard, I meet his heavy stare. “I’m not going with her, no matter what,” I tell them. “She was training me to kill your father and then she was going to kill me once her dirty work was out of the way. She had no intention of me taking over her empire. The bitch isn’t even sick.”

Levi lets out a heavy breath and I realize that I’ve been an idiot not bringing this up until now. I should have told them all of this the second I found them but getting them better was all that mattered to me. “I knew her ‘sickness’ was too fucking convenient.”

Looking between the two brothers, I try to calm my racing heart. “So, what’s our plan?”

Roman shakes his head. “We go out there and see what the fuck she wants,” he says as though it’s as easy as that. “Let her show her cards and use them against her. All that matters is that she still needs you alive, at least for now.”

My lips press into a hard line. “Not unless she assumes that you’re going to kill your father. Then technically, she has no use for me.”

“FUCK,” Levi grunts, his hands going to his head. “Why does every motherfucker we meet want to see you in a goddamn grave?”

“You’re telling me,” I scoff before moving to the door. “Let’s just get this over and done with. Hopefully, we can get her to fuck off without having to put a bullet through someone’s head.”

“Marcus isn’t going to like that,” Levi says under his breath, letting out a heavy sigh before reaching for the door and giving me a tight smile. “What do we have to lose?”

Roman lowers his tone, darkness seeping into his obsidian eyes. “Absolutely everything.”

Stepping out into the cold night to face down Gia’s army isn’t exactly something I want to get used to. Until now, it’s always been Giovanni’s army that we’ve faced down in the dead of night, and though that’s not a great feeling either, Gia’s army is something different. They’re stronger and fiercer than Giovanni’s men. They play by their own rules and are well versed in the art of manipulation.

The soft breeze hits my face as Roman and Levi flank me, no longer demanding that I stay behind them as they have in the past. Tonight, we stand as equals.

Gia’s men stop the moment they notice us, and we immediately begin descending the stairs, not allowing their presence to intimidate us.

Gia continues forward with Zeke at her side, and my gaze flickers toward him, capturing his hard stare with nerves. The last time I’d seen him, he was giving me keys to a getaway car and telling me that if I ever returned, it should be to put a bullet in Gia’s head. If it weren’t for him, I never would have gotten away. I never would have found the guys, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t have been able to get them the help they so desperately needed.

Without Zeke, the boys would be dead and for that, I owe him my life, but he’s also the man who keeps Gia’s bed warm at night. He has other intentions at play here, and I’m not sure he can be trusted.

We hit the bottom step and Gia watches me like a hawk, keeping a fair distance, but not too far that we have to shout to be heard. She glances over Roman and Levi, scanning them from head to toe, probably mentally tallying how many weapons are on their bodies and where their weaknesses may lie. “You’re missing a brother,” she comments, her gaze sharp and controlled.

“We are,” Roman states, allowing her to believe the worst rather than explaining that the third brother is currently propped up on the roof of the mansion with a rifle pointed right between her eyes.

Gia narrows her gaze, not believing it for one second but having nothing else to suggest otherwise. With her whole army at her back, what does it really matter? We’re only a small handful up against a fucking empire. We don’t stand a chance.

Gia’s gaze comes back to mine. “You ran from my home,” she states. “You know the consequences. I explained to you what would happen if you were to run.”

I nod my head. “Yeah, I heard you loud and clear. I heard the threats rolling off your tongue as though you’d dipped them in poison, but you know what? Your threats don’t mean shit to me … and neither do you for that matter.”

Gia’s gaze darkens in a similar way that Roman’s does when he’s being tested, and it’s damn clear that she doesn’t appreciate it. “Do you see how this looks?” she spits. “What position you’ve put me in? My daughter, my heir, has willingly risked her life to save DeAngelis scum.”

I laugh. “And I’d do it again.”

Roman groans at my side. “Stop provoking her,” he mutters under his breath.

Whoops.

“Your foolishness has come to an end,” Gia spits. “You are embarrassing me and the legacy that I will be leaving behind. You will be coming with me whether you like it or not, so I suggest that you march your ass over here before I am forced to come over there and take you.”

Levi flinches at my side, and I brush my fingers against his, allowing my pinky to hook around his thumb and feeling him slowly begin to calm. “So you can train me to kill Giovanni, turn me into one of your soldiers, only for you to fake a sickness and kill me once you’ve used me for your sick games? Yeah, fuck that. It was a nice idea while it lasted, but I’ll pass. Catch ya on the next one.”

Gia’s eyes blaze, realizing that her carefully structured plan to fake a disease and rule the fucking world is imploding in her face. She scrambles, trying to think of how to play me, but it won’t work. I’m not interested. I have too much to lose to risk being tangled up in her twisted little web again.

“I’m going to give you three seconds, Shayne Moretti. You’re going to cross this lawn and stand behind me. You’re going to say goodbye to your lovers and then walk away.”

A smile pulls at my lips, and I hold back a laugh. “I applaud your confidence, really, I do. It’s impressive, but I’m over it. You’re not my mother. We may share the same blood, but you do not hold a damn thing over me. I’m over playing by other people’s rules. I’m the puppeteer now, and you just stepped into my world.”

Zeke presses his hand to his ear and in an instant, we have every gun on the property turned toward us. “You want to play games, Shayne? Then that is what we will do.”

Her gaze drops to my chest, and I glance down to see the red, glowing dot on my chest, and I laugh, glancing up to find an identical one right between her eyes.

“Two can play that game,” I say, watching as Zeke's head snaps up to the top of the mansion, seeking out Marcus’ rifle with shock on his face. He hadn’t expected us to be so prepared, and that’s on them. They should have known that no matter what, we have each other’s backs. “You know, I’m surprised you bothered making the trip all the way out here. After all, don’t you have bigger issues to worry about other than tracking your degenerate daughter all over the state?”

Her gaze shifts over the property, taking in Marcus’ exact location, taking her time as she tries to figure out how to play this, though something tells me that she’s considering ending us all right here and now. But then, I’m sure she knows just how unhinged Marcus can be. He won’t hesitate to pull the trigger, and he sure as hell won’t wait for a reason to do it.

Gia’s stare falls back to me, narrowed and showing just a hint of confusion.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

“What are you talking about?” she demands, inching forward.

Roman and Levi follow her movements, not saying a damn word, but they don’t need to, their intentions are clear in their dark eyes. They won’t be giving up tonight. Gia is nothing but a small hurdle that stands in the way of what they really want, and they won’t hesitate to take her out and start a war if it will get them one step closer to victory.

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” I taunt, knowing just how much my bullshit is grating on her nerves, and honestly, with this little red dot hovering over my chest, it’s not the smartest idea, but she needs answers, and until she gets them, the red dot is nothing but an empty threat. “You must be so proud. Your baby girl finally got hitched. I’m a DeAngelis now.”

Gia’s face drops, her eyes going wide as she gapes at the boys at my side. She storms forward, her men following her without question. She puts herself directly in front of me, jabbing her fingers right into my chest. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’ll see to it that marriage does not stand, even if I have to slit their throats myself.”

A full-on belly laugh tears through me as I shove a hand into her shoulder and push her back a step. “That’s cute you think one of these assholes is my husband. I mean, I wish. Could you imagine just how possessive they’d be if they got to legally call me theirs? But think again, Mother dearest. You were right; running from you did come with its consequences because now there’s a ring on Giovanni’s finger with my name on it.”

Her face falls again and she stumbles back a few steps, her eyes wide, quickly calculating her every move and what this could mean for her empire. But I just grin. “That’s right, Giovanni DeAngelis has just opened a back door right into the heart of your empire, and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

Panic tears through her gaze, wild and unpredictable, and in a flash, she tears her gun from the holster strapped to her thigh. My eyes go wide as time seems to slow.

A million things happen at once.

She raises the gun and aims directly between my eyes, just as Roman’s hand curls around my arm, yanking me hard. Marcus pulls the trigger just as Zeke shoves Gia out of the way, but not before she fires her own weapon, sending a bullet hurtling toward us. Levi throws himself forward, catching the bullet in his shoulder just as Zeke drops to the ground, the bullets meant for Gia now plunging through his chest.

A tortured scream tears from my chest as Gia looks at Zeke, horror in her eyes for only a moment before she disregards him and scrambles to her feet.

Roman throws himself protectively in front of me and Levi, standing fearlessly before those he loves. “MAKE SURE HE’S ALIVE,” Roman yells back at me, his gun stretched out in front of him, prepared and ready to take as many shots as he can, if that’s what it comes down to, but there’s too many of them. If Gia decides to turn this into a fucking war, we would crumble.

Dropping to my knees, I scurry to Levi’s side. Blood coats the ground as fear rockets through me. “LEVI?” I cry, slamming my hand over the bullet wound and trying to stop the bleeding. “Please be okay. Please be okay.”

He grunts, the pain tearing through me. “FUCK,” he roars, spitting the word through a clenched jaw. “I’M FINE. I’M OKAY.”

“There’s too many of them,” Roman calls back at us as Gia holds up a hand, a silent signal for her army to start descending on us. “LEVI,” Roman calls, desperate for some kind of backup other than Marcus hidden up on the roof.

Levi scrambles to his feet, and as I race in between them, their big shoulders force me back. Blood soaks the back of Levi’s shirt, and I know he’s not going to be able to deal with this for long, especially after the shit he’s still healing from.

Gia’s army stands at her back, two men gripping onto Zeke's arms and dragging him back into the crowd as she looks back at us in a pure rage. “Hand her over,” Gia commands, momentarily forgetting who the fuck she’s speaking to.

Roman scoffs. “Come and get her.”

Well fuck.

And that asshole was warning me against provoking her. He’s just given her an open invitation to attack.

Bracing myself, I prepare for what’s bound to be the fight of my life when Gia slowly begins looking between me and the boys. Curiosity dances in her eyes and my back stiffens, realizing the games are far from finished. She’s had her moment of panic and an added bonus tantrum, but now the fierce leader of the Moretti family is back, and she can see the world clearly once again.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she says, her eyes on me, but her words aimed at the two men standing before me. “One of the famous DeAngelis brothers comes with me, and I will spare her life … for now.”

I scoff under my breath. “She’s fucking insane.”

There’s no way in hell.

I look through the boys’ shoulders, preparing to tell her to go and fuck a donkey when Roman’s shoulders sag and Levi turns to me. My brows furrow, looking up at him as he steps into me, taking my face in his big hands and pressing his lips to mine. “I love you,” he says, meeting my eyes with a loyal fierceness that kills me inside.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand, looking at him as though he’s lost his mind. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. She’s playing us. She’s only doing this to lure me out.”

Levi smiles, pulling me into his chest and holding me tight. “I know, Shayne. I fucking know, which is why you can’t come for me.”

I search his eyes, desperation filling my veins like lead, weighing me down. He pulls back, and before I know it, Roman’s arms are around my waist, gripping me tight … too tight. Levi steps away and I shake my head, my eyes filling with tears. “No,” I yell at him. “NO. LEVI.”

“I’m sorry, Shayne. I fucking love you with everything that I am and if sacrificing myself to the likes of Gia Moretti is what it takes for you and my brothers to walk free tonight, then that’s what I’m going to do. Do you understand me? I love you, Shayne. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I pull against Roman’s hold, but his grip tightens, and he begins dragging me back toward the steps. “LET ME GO,” I scream, clawing at his arm as Levi watches me, his heart on his sleeve.

“Say it,” Levi says.

I shake my head, tears spilling down my face. “Don’t you dare do this. Don’t do this to me.”

“Say it,” he demands.

My heart breaks and a heavy sob tears from the back of my throat. “Please.” He just watches me, silently waiting to hear those three words he knows have been plaguing my heart from the very moment we met. He takes a backward step as Roman pulls me even further away, and the desperation overwhelms me. “Please, Levi. Don’t do this. We can survive this. Don’t leave me. I love you so fucking much.”

His dark eyes bore into mine, filled with everything we’ve refused to say out loud, everything that he’s held back on sitting right there in his beautiful eyes. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Shayne.” He holds my stare a moment longer as a silent goodbye lingers in the air between us, and with that, he turns his back and walks into the waiting arms of Gia’s army.

“LEVI. NO. DON’T DO THIS TO ME,” I scream, the raw intensity of my cries tearing at my throat. I struggle against Roman’s hold, watching as Levi is lost to the crowd of soldiers, his arms pulled tightly behind his back and bound as he’s smacked down to his knees. “LEVI. NO. DON’T TOUCH HIM. DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HIM.”

Roman drags me up the stairs, lifting me off the ground as I fight against his iron grip. “No,” I sob, watching the way Gia just stands there with a fucking smirk on her lips, watching me break into a million little pieces. “Don’t do this.”

“I’ll be seeing you, Shayne,” Gia tells me, her smirk widening as her eyes dance with laughter. “Mark my words. I’ll be seeing you.”

“If you hurt him,” I spit, hot angry tears spilling down my cheeks, knowing that being a prisoner of Gia Moretti’s is a fucking death sentence. “I swear to God, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“I welcome you to try.” And with that, she turns her back and walks away with her army while Roman pulls me into the mansion, slamming the heavy door between us.

21

“Let me go,” I cry, clawing at Roman’s arms as he carries me back into the massive living room where we’d only been fast asleep forty minutes ago. I try to pull free, slamming my elbow back into his neck, anything to get free, anything to race back out there and save Levi. I’ll give her anything, anything she fucking wants, even if it means my own fucking life.

Hot anger boils within me, overwhelming my senses and filling me with a devastating rage that I have no chance in hell of trying to control.

My body aches, my heart cries, and my fucking will to live is gone.

I need him back.

Why did he have to do that?

Roman drops down onto the big couch, his arms still so tight around me. He adjusts his hold, turning me in his arms until I’m straddled over his lap. “It’s going to be alright, Empress,” he promises me, his words whispered but somehow still holding so much emotion that it only serves to kill me that much more. “We’re going to get him back. No matter what, I promise you.”

Sobs spill out of me, forcing their way over the painful lump in my throat. My head falls into the base of Roman’s neck, trying to breathe him in, trying to desperately calm myself. “He’s gone,” I cry, my pain knowing no bounds. “Why would he do that? He just walked away. He just gave up everything and let her destroy us. He didn’t even fight, just let her take him.”

My tears stain Roman’s shirt but he doesn’t dare push me away, just simply holds me, letting his hand roam up and down my back as his other holds me tight to his body. “Because he loves you, Shayne. You heard what he said. There’s not a damn thing he wouldn’t do for you, even if it means giving himself up to keep you safe. You’re the most precious thing in his life. You’re his whole fucking world, just as you are to me and Marc. Had you been taken again, had they hurt you … or worse. It would have killed every one of us. If he didn’t walk, Empress, then I would have. The same goes for Marc.”

I pull my head up, wiping at the tears that just keep coming. “She’s going to kill him,” I warn him. “Don’t you understand? We’re never going to see him again.”

Roman shakes his head. “You can’t think like that, Empress. Levi is strong. Look at what he just survived. We’ll get to him, and he’ll make it through it with us by his side.”

My head falls against his shoulder just as Marc comes back into the room and drops onto the couch beside us. I don’t see the look on his face, but I can feel it. He’s just as broken as I am, barely holding it together, knowing exactly what lies in store for his brother.

Marc’s hand finds mine squished between me and Roman, and he grips it as though it’s his only lifeline. “It’s going to be okay, babe,” he tells me, but the words sound more like he’s trying to convince himself. “We’re going to get him out of there.”

Taking slow, deep breaths, the sobs finally begin to ease and the intense, crippling thoughts circling my head start to slow, making it easier to come to terms with everything that just happened. “He’s gone,” I breathe, repeating the words I’d cried only moments ago.

Neither of the boys respond, feeling the ache just as much as I do.

Roman’s hand slides up my back until his fingers are curled around my neck, slowly massaging as if trying to calm me. “We’re going to figure this out.”

“How?” I murmur, pulling my face out of the crook of his neck. “She wants me. As long as her blood runs through my veins, then she’s never going to stop coming for me. She’s going to kill me. And as for Levi, she’s going to use him to draw Giovanni out, but it’s not going to work, and when she finally realizes that, she’ll destroy him and boast about it. We can’t survive this. She’s too strong. I’ve seen her home, and I’ve seen the kind of empire she runs. The family your father has built doesn’t hold a match to the power the Moretti’s have. We don’t stand a chance.”

Roman pulls me in, pressing his lips to mine in a lingering kiss, and the moment he pulls back, his forehead comes to mine. “Hear me, Empress, we are going to find a way to get through this. Levi needs us more than ever, and I’m sure as fuck not about to start letting him down now, and I know you’re not about to either.”

“How?” I ask him, searching his dark eyes. “Zeke was our only shot, but we don’t even know if he’s going to make it.”

“Zeke?” Roman questions. “You mean the asshole hanging off Gia like a bad smell?”

“Yeah.”

Roman holds my stare a moment longer. “That’s how you got out, isn’t it? He helped you?”

I swallow over the lump in my throat and nod. “He was put in charge of training me, and he slipped me a set of keys when we were sparring. The last thing he said to me was that if I were to return, it better be to put a bullet between Gia’s eyes. That night, Gia had business to attend to and the front gates were left open. All I had to do was find a way from my room and to the front gate and I was free.”

Marcus laughs, shaking his head. “Fucking knew that asshole was with the feds.”

“The feds?” I ask. “You think he’s undercover, working with the FBI?”

“We always had our suspicions,” Roman says. “But helping you escape … no real member of Gia’s family would ever risk such a betrayal. He’s walking on eggshells. But that doesn’t mean that we can trust him. Just because he’d rather see us live than her, doesn’t mean that he still won’t lock our asses up.”

“Shit,” I sigh. “So, what do we do? We have to get in there somehow.”

Roman shakes his head. “For now, you tell us everything you remember from her home. The cameras, levels, where the rooms are. Do you think you could draw up some kind of blueprint?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I mean, I didn’t see it all. I don’t know what was hidden behind even half of the doors, but I can draw up the bits that I remember. I don’t know where she keeps her prisoners though, or if she even has them at her home.”

Marcus nods. “She will. Her number one priority is getting my father’s sticky fingers away from her empire, meaning that Levi just became her most important prisoner ever. She won’t let him out of her sight. Our only saving grace is that she can’t kill him until she draws out my father, and my father isn’t the kind to just show up when being called. We have time.”

“But how much time does Levi have? He’s already weak, he’s still trying to heal. There’s only so much torture one man can go through before he gives up.”

“Levi is strong,” Roman reminds me. “He’s been trained for this. We just need to be prepared for the fact that he might not be the same man who walked away from us tonight.”

My heart shatters into a million pieces, and I try to hold back the tears, taking slow, deep breaths before finally meeting Roman’s gaze again. “Okay,” I finally say, the lump growing in my throat. “So, we plan for a raid. We do our homework and figure out the best time to go in. But what happens if that doesn’t work?”

He shakes his head, and I hate that he doesn’t have the answers I need. I have to remind myself that just because he doesn’t have the answers now, doesn’t mean that we’re screwed, it just means we have to think harder, we need to play our pieces and figure it out. “We’ll figure it out, Empress. No matter how hard it is, or how long it takes. I won’t let him down. I won’t let you down.”

He kisses me again, his lips so damn soft against mine it’s almost criminal, and I don’t know what kind of voodoo bullshit he’s pouring into this kiss, but he has the ability to calm me, even during the most torrential storm. He holds my lips hostage, giving me a moment to breathe before pulling away just a fraction, barely a breath between us. “I love you, Empress. You are my fucking rock. I live to please you,” he says, his fingers gently brushing over the side of my face. “Yes, Levi is my brother, and I’d do everything in my power to get him home safe. But knowing that his absence kills you just as much as yours killed me, it pushes me to try harder. I can’t stand seeing your heart broken like this. Hear me, Shayne. Really fucking hear me when I tell you that no matter what it takes to bring him home, I’ll do it. He’s my baby brother. You, Marcus, and Levi—you’re all I have in this world, and I’m not about to let some two-faced bitch take that away. And you can bet your fucking sweet ass that Marc feels the same way.”

My gaze falls to Marc, and he nods, squeezing my hand in his before bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the tops of my knuckles. He lets it fall, landing against Roman’s thigh as he meets my teary eyes. “Whatever it takes,” Marc promises me, his heart on his sleeve, looking just as broken as mine. He gives me a tight smile. It’s one thing for Marc to express his feelings for me, but when it’s one of his brothers, it hits differently. He goes to get up and holds my stare. “I need a drink,” he says. “I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I watch him make his way out of the big living room, wishing that I could do something for him, but as much as it kills me, he wants to be alone. He’s going to find a bottle of the most expensive whiskey, drain it, and once the effects wear off, he’ll be ready.

My gaze falls back to Roman’s to find his eyes haven’t left my face the whole time, and I can’t resist throwing my arms around his neck and folding into him just as I was before. “I trust you, Roman,” I tell him, my words a breathy whisper brushing against his warm skin. “I know you’ll bring him home. I’ve known it since the moment I met you. You’re their protector, both Levi and Marcus. You’ve always shielded them from the worst your father had to offer, and a part of me wonders if they’re even aware of just how bad it really got.”

His arms tighten around me, pulling my body in flush against his. “You’re too observant for your own good.”

“And you’re too loyal for yours,” I tell him.

“Not possible,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers through my hair.

Silence falls between us as I rest my head against his chest, soft tears still falling down my face thinking about the hell Levi is going to endure at the expense of saving me from harm. It’s barely been ten minutes, and I already fear what Gia’s men could have done to him. He’s still healing, still hurting, despite the brave face he wears every time he meets my eyes.

Fuck, I love him so bad it hurts.

“I love you, Roman,” I whisper. “I know I’ve told you that before, but I need you to know just how much I mean it. I was so stubborn for so long, and I refused to admit it, even to myself, but the thought of Levi being taken like this and not knowing just how much I love him … I swear. Every chance I get … I need you to know.”

Roman’s embrace seems to soften around me as he lets out a gentle breath. “Even if you hadn’t said the words, Levi knows. We all know because we can see it in your eyes every time you look at us. It’s part of the reason I’m not beating them black and blue and demanding that you’ll be only mine. I wouldn’t take that kind of love away from them, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t take it from you.”

I pull up from his chest, looking into his dark eyes, listening intently as he continues. “The way you screamed those words, despite your fear and the desperation in your voice, I can guarantee that those words are repeating over and over in his mind. Your words are what’s going to get him through this.”

My lips press into a tight line, the smallest spark of hope rising deep in my chest. “I can only hope,” I tell him before falling back into his arms and watching as the sun slowly rises, casting long shadows across the big living room and reminding me that today is a new day—a new day to survive, a new day to thrive, and a new fucking day to take what’s ours.

22

Days. It’s fucking days before the call we’ve been desperate for finally comes through to Roman’s phone. He jumps on it, scooping it up off the kitchen counter and immediately taking the call. He hits the speakerphone, and his voice booms through the big kitchen.

“Mick. Where are we at?”

I jump down off the counter, my eyes wide as I walk over to Roman, needing to be closer as if that’s going to somehow help me hear the conversation clearer. “I’m sending you a video now,” Mick says, his voice filled with a strange emotion that I can’t read. “Gia sent this through to your father.”

My chest heaves with heavy, frantic breaths as Roman’s phone dings with an incoming video text. Marcus steps into my side just as Roman opens the video. He adjusts his position so that we can all see the screen, and the second the video begins to play, my knees fall out from under me.

Marcus grips my elbow, keeping me up as we watch Levi on the screen, his wrists cuffed and held by heavy, thick chains above his head. His feet barely touch the ground as his beautiful head hangs forward, already exhausted and ready to give up.

“Shit,” Marcus says, his other hand falling to my hip as he moves in closer to me.

Tears fill my eyes, and I take the phone out of Roman’s hands, holding it closer, studying every inch of his skin that I can make out in the darkened room. It doesn’t look like a cell. It’s more open than that, but it’s definitely not the five-star castle I lived in while being held captive.

Roman’s hands knot into his hair, his eyes darkening as he begins to pace across the narrow walkway between the kitchen island and the cabinetry behind it. “Tell me you didn’t forward that video to my father.”

“No, I didn’t,” Mick says, reminding me that he’s still on the line as my eyes remain glued to the screen, watching Levi dangling by his chains. “Figured you’d want to keep it private. It came through a minute ago and I called you straight away.”

“Did you get anything from it?” Roman says as a man steps into the frame, his face covered by a black mask. My back straightens as I suck in a terrified gasp, the sound bringing Roman to a stop at my side, peering over my shoulder at the screen again.

“Yeah, my team is working on it now,” Mick says, unaware of the horrors overwhelming my heart, making it nearly impossible to breathe. “We’ve managed to open a back door into the Moretti surveillance system. We might be able to get a live feed set up, but it’s not going to be easy. Whoever she has working her tech is good, but not better than me.”

“Good,” Roman snaps, his eyes glued to the screen. The masked man moves toward Levi with a whip in hand, and like lightning, strikes out at him, leaving a red, bloodied mark right across his chest, the sharp snap cracking through the phone speaker. Levi cries out, his head throwing back in agony as the sound paralyzes me. “Get it done.”

My hand slaps over my mouth, trying to stifle the gasps that tear through the back of my throat, unable to pull my gaze away from the video. The masked fuckhead strikes him again, and I crumble back into Marcus’ chest, barely holding myself together. Tears swarm my eyes watching Levi’s anguish and hating the torment that must plague him right now.

Marcus lets out a soft curse, his fingers digging painfully into my hip as he watches his brother go through hell. “Levi is strong,” I whisper, unsure who I’m trying to convince. “He can make it through this.”

Who am I kidding? He’s just been through hell, just watched his brother almost die. How much more of this can we all take? This isn’t Gia’s first rodeo, and I don’t doubt that she has broken men much worse than Levi. He’s not in the right headspace, his body is already broken, and judging by the angry red markings on his tanned skin and the dried blood coating his body, he’s already been through a world of hell before this video was taken.

Gia isn’t going to make this easy, and what’s worse—the bitch is baiting us. She’s drawing us out and she knows it’s going to work. She has all her fucking ducks in a row, and we’re going to storm in there with targets on our backs.

We’re fucked.

Levi is fucked.

We can’t save him. But I’ll fucking die trying.

“Roman?” Mick says, his tone lowering with unease and something a little darker, something filled with nerves and horror. “We might have a location. We’re still waiting on confirmation, but I think it’s time you start making your way back here.”

“You’ve got two hours,” Roman snaps down the line. “You better have something solid.”

He ends the call without so much as a goodbye, and within moments, we’re breaking out into torrential rain, more than ready to leave this hellhole behind. Storms have wreaked havoc over these mountains for the past few days, and I can’t help but feel as though the fucking sky is in tune with my shattered soul. It’s like a sick fucking joke, but at some point, there has to be blue skies.

Dill and Doe bound down the stairs, passing us in no time. The rain glues my hair to my face, but nothing matters to me except getting into that Escalade and flying down the fucking road, one step closer to getting him back.

We pile into the SUV, and before the door has even closed behind me, Roman’s foot slams down on the gas. We fly back out through the destroyed property, each of us in a deathly silence. My mind replays the video over and over like some sickening way of torturing myself.

No one says a damn word, and before I know it, we’re pulling into the familiar streets of the city. The past two hours have both flown by while also feeling like a lifetime. Every minute that Levi is left in her hands is another minute of me clawing at my own skin. But it’s almost over, it has to be.

It won’t be long before she realizes that Giovanni isn’t going to respond to her efforts, and soon enough, she’ll tire of the game.

We’re only a few streets away from the main warehouse when my back stiffens and my head snaps up, meeting Roman’s sharp gaze through the rearview mirror. “What is it?” he says, recognizing the fear in my eyes and spitting the words out before I can even articulate my thoughts.

“Gia knew exactly where to find us,” I say. “On the one night where we were out in the open with no extra protection. Is that not too coincidental?”

Marcus turns in his seat, looking back at me, his brows furrowed as he thinks it over. “She would have been tracking your movements since the second you left her home.”

“But how?” I question. “I ditched her guards at a mall parking lot. They didn’t see me leave, didn’t see the car I was in or where I was headed.”

“Maybe she’s got men on the inside. My father goes through guards like he goes through toilet paper. Any one of them could have come right out of Gia’s pocket. He could have led her right to us.”

“How could he have led her to us if your father doesn’t even know where we are? Don’t you think he would have come for us if he knew where we were?” I shake my head. “Your father doesn’t know, so Gia couldn’t have known either.”

“She could have someone staking out all of our properties.”

I shrug my shoulders, my gut telling me that it’s something much more sinister than that. “Maybe,” I say. “But if that were the case, she would have grabbed me when I went to your father’s place. It would have been a shitload easier. I was alone.”

Roman watches me for a brief second before his eyes bug out of his head. “FUCK,” he spits before slamming on the brakes and pulling off to the side of the road. He storms out of the car, walking around to the backdoor and ripping it open.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand as he reaches in and grips my elbow, yanking me across the backseat. He pulls me out of the car, his hands roaming over every inch of my body as traffic flies by us, honking horns and screaming curses out their open windows.

“You’re right,” he says, as Marcus watches us from the open door. “She has been tracking you, but not by following your every fucking move. She’s got a fucking GPS tracker on you, just like we had.”

My eyes bug out of my head as I frantically begin searching my body. “What the fuck?” I screech as Marcus curses softly to himself. “No. No, that can’t be right. I would know. I was never knocked out and never … no. I would know if she put something into me. It’s not possible.”

Marcus scoffs, shaking his head. “Trust me, babe. It’s very fucking possible.”

“Here,” Roman says, his hands pausing on my back, just below my ribs in the fleshy part of my skin. He pokes and prods at something hard, his face grim realizing that he was right. “I have to get this out,” he tells me, his stare coming back to mine. “She’ll know we’re coming.”

I nod, agreeing wholeheartedly and letting out a sigh as he leads me around the other side of the car to block our view of the traffic storming by. Marcus’ hand falls out the window with a knife resting between his fingers and Roman gingerly takes it.

This is gonna suck, but at least it’ll be done quick … a shitload quicker than when it was me trying to cut it out of my own freaking arm.

We step right up to Marcus’ window, and I grip on to his hands as Roman braces me against the side of the car. “On three—”

“No,” I rush out, clenching my eyes. “Just do it.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The sharp tip digs into my skin, and I bite down on my lip, squeezing Marcus’ hand and trying to think of anything that could distract me from the agony.

“Sorry, Empress,” Roman murmurs, his tone dark and pained, not liking the idea of hurting me any more than I do, but Roman isn’t the kind to back down. He’ll do what needs to be done, no matter what it costs him.

I swallow hard, forcing the pain out of my head. “You know this means that Gia knows where the warehouse is,” I spit through my clenched jaw. “She could destroy your whole operation with just a click of her fingers. She’ll use it against you.”

Marcus’ thumb moves over my knuckles, drawing my attention to his gentle, calming touch. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

The sharp tip of the knife pulls away from my skin, and I let out a shaky breath as Roman holds a tiny little device between his fingers, blood covering both the tracker and his hands. He studies it a moment before flicking the small device through the open window of a passing car. He wipes the blood from the blade onto his dark pants and hands it back to Marcus before glancing back at me. “Turn around. I need to stitch that.”

I shake my head and move out of his hold. “We don’t have time. We need to get to the warehouse and see what information Mick has found. It’s just a small cut. It can wait.”

Roman’s lips press into a hard line, and before he gets the chance to argue, I’m already around the other side of the car and slipping back into the open door. I close it with a heavy thump and not a moment later, Roman is back in the driver’s seat, pulling out into the midday city traffic.

The back roller door is already open and waiting for us as we barrel into the warehouse. Mick stands by a controller and as soon as the Escalade has cleared the door, he hits a button, bringing the roller door down.

We’re out of the car within seconds, following Mick to his office in the center of the main floor. “What have we got?” Roman asks as the warehouse workers watch on with wide eyes, curiosity getting the better of them. By just the look on the boys’ faces, it’s clear that something is about to go down.

The last few times we’ve come through here, we’ve been secretive, hiding in the shadows, but not anymore. Right now, we don’t give a shit. We have one goal in mind, and not a damn thing is going to stand in our way.

We step into Mick’s tech room, and I’m not surprised to find the big space swarming with computer dudes, their hands moving over their keyboards like lightning. The room is completely closed off to the workers on the opposite side of the wall. I remember walking in here the first time and being in complete awe by the one-way glass surrounding this room. We could watch over the warehouse while the workers busily went about their day, oblivious to our stares. But now, the room is cloaked in darkness, complete privacy locking us in. We don’t see through, and they don’t see in. This right here is all about focus, no distractions.

Mick leads us over to a massive computer screen, but another catches my attention.

Levi’s face rests on the screen, his eyes closed with blood matted in his short hair, only the angle of his chin is different from the video I replayed over in my mind during the long trip here. “Is this more footage?” I question, gaining the mens’ attention. Their heads snap up and I indicate to the screen. “This is different.”

“We got into Gia’s surveillance system,” Mick explains. “That’s a live feed.”

I all but fall at the screen, rushing in closer to rake my eyes over him. “Can you zoom out? I need to see his body.”

The computer tech at the desk does exactly as I ask, and my heart shatters seeing the angry welts across his chest from the whip. There are six of them, each one staring at me like an accusation, dropping weight after weight down on my shoulders. “Shit. Is he alright?” I ask. “Have they done anything else to him since then? Given him food or water?”

“Nothing,” the tech dude beside me says. “He’s just been hanging there. Maybe this whole time.”

Roman stands behind me, his eyes narrowed and filled with questions as Marcus fidgets, his hands balling into fists at his side. “I need to fucking kill something.”

“You’ll get your chance, brother,” Roman mutters darkly before turning to Mick. “Have you nailed down his location yet?”

Mick nods, getting straight back to business. “We have. But you’re not going to like it.” Roman gives him a hard stare and Mick hurries to give him the information that he needs. “You were right, she’s holding Levi in her private residence an hour out of the city. From the fifty cameras within the home and the layout Shayne was able to draw up, we were able to determine that Levi is being kept in a padded cell under the mansion. We’re unsure how to access the underground portion of the property or just how big it might be, but if you take the rest of her home into consideration, you can guarantee that she put a lot of thought and cash into it. These cells were not meant for people to come out of.”

Roman and Marcus nod as if simply discussing what toppings they’re having on their pizza.

“I’m not sure of Gia’s usual day-to-day security, but there are a lot of guards swarming her property. It looks as though she’s anticipating an attack and she’s ready for it. I don’t know how you guys are going to get through this one, but if anyone can make this happen, it’s you crazy fuckers.”

Mick goes on to show us a shitload of tech gear that we’ll be using as if we’re in some kind of James Bond movie, and I gape at it all. I’ve never known the boys to need anything apart from themselves and a gun, but to have a tech dude in their ears, watching their movements with heat signatures and a shitload of other stuff I don’t understand only goes to show just how fucking dangerous this really is. Hell, there’s even a hint of nervousness buried deep in Roman’s eyes, while Marcus looks like he’s about ready to slaughter every man who stands in his way, and I can guarantee that’s exactly what he’ll do.

The boys are preparing for one hell of a war. We’re just three people up against a fucking storm.

The next twenty minutes are filled with the boys going over every detail of the property that we can get our eyes and ears on. They watch the guards and figure out where they’re stationed on the property, zero in on codes being punched into the front gate, and figure out where the weakest link is.

We study every angle of the property, and every now and then, a new question is thrown my way, but for the most part, my eyes remain locked on the screen that watches Levi, making sure he’s still holding on.

A meticulous, detailed plan is put into place, and after giving Mick the rundown on the whole GPS tracker thing, instructions are given to clear out the warehouse and move all the boys’ product and cash to a new location, ensuring the workers’ silence and safety.

The warehouse turns into a buzz of movement, everyone doing what they need to do to get this place stripped while all the tech bunnies remain exactly where they are, having instructions not to move until Levi has been recovered and is safe. After that, they can do whatever the fuck they need to do to get out of here. The moment Gia realizes that we’re coming, she’ll use every last weapon in her artillery to win.

With everyone busy and preparing for what’s going to go down in the dead of night, Roman and Marcus crowd around me, their faces grim. Nervousness weighs down on my chest as I watch them through narrowed eyes. “What?” I demand, getting to my feet while distantly aware of the way everyone in the room seems to ignore us, acting as though there aren't two psychotic serial killers moving in on me.

Roman glances at Marcus, a silent message passing between them, and after a beat, he turns back to me, a new determination written across his face. “You’re not coming with us.”

I stumble back a step, my brows furrowed as I look between them in confusion. Surely he just mixed up his words because there’s no way he could possibly mean what he just said. “Excuse me?” I demand. “What the hell do you mean I’m not coming?”

Marcus takes a hesitant step toward me, slowly reaching for my hand, but I quickly pull away, knowing this bullshit idea would have belonged to him. “You know I think you’re incredible, and if anyone can handle themselves during this, it’s you. Don’t get me wrong by assuming I think anything different, but you can’t be there. Gia wants your head, and she will stop at nothing to get it. Every one of those men will have kill orders on you, on all of us, and we can’t go into this worried about you. You’ll be staying here with Mick. He’ll give you a head piece so that you can communicate with us and watch the live feed, but you won’t be coming.”

I stare at him, my heart slowly cracking right down the center before turning back to Roman. “And you agree with this?”

His gaze drops, usually being the one to break whatever news needs to be broken, only when he can see my heart shattering before him, his determination wavers. “I do,” he finally says.

Letting out a heavy breath, I nod and turn away, hating the feel of their laser-sharp gazes locked on my back.

I didn’t think that it would come down to this, but nothing, not even Roman and Marcus, will keep me from getting to Levi. He needs me more than ever, and after the stupid amount of times Levi has had my back, it’s a damn guarantee that I will have his. I know Roman and Marcus are simply trying to protect me, and I know they have a really good reason to do so, but I will give up my life if it means saving Levi’s.

Nothing is going to stop me.

Not Roman. Not Marcus. And not Gia Fucking Moretti.

They leave me no choice.

23

Nerves rattle me, but they’re nothing quite like the guilt that sears me from the inside out.

They’re going to kill me. Hell, I’m going to kill myself. But no one, not even Marcus and Roman are going to keep me grounded. This is too important. Levi needs me. He needs something to fight for. He needs a ray of hope to shine through the bullshit and get him through this until the guys can help free him. But right now, this whole waiting until the middle of the night bullshit to make a move, this shit isn’t sitting well with me. In fact, just the thought of waiting another minute tears me to shreds.

I stare up at the ceiling of the dumpster fire motel room the boys and I have been shacking up in since leaving the warehouse four hours ago. They’re dead to the world, deep asleep, with the intention to regain as much energy as possible for the raid on Gia’s home. They’re going to need it, especially being down one brother.

Time is ticking so damn slowly.

I haven’t slept a wink, but I knew that before we even came here. How could I sleep after seeing that live feed? In the hours that I sat in front of that screen, Levi didn’t get assaulted again, but the way he held his body made it clear that he was ready and prepared for more.

Glancing out the window, I decide that I’ve waited long enough. It’s after eleven, and the sky is as dark as it’s going to get. The majority of cars have cleared off the roads and Gia’s night shift would have well and truly taken over.

I have no plan. No solid idea of how I’m supposed to get in there and find my way to Levi, but I have to try. The boys aren’t planning on leaving until just after two in the morning, and by the time they wake up, they’ll find me long gone. They’ll race after me, and if everything goes as well as I hope, I’ll already be with Levi when they arrive, then they can help us get out of there. Sure, I’ll probably get the worst kind of lecture and be hate fucked afterward, but I’m not leaving Levi for one more second.

They can hate me all they want. They can rant and rave at me until their throats are bleeding, but they can’t possibly deny the fact that if it had been me in that padded cell beneath Gia’s home, they would have done the exact same thing. Hell, I just raced back into the lion’s den to save their bitch asses from their father, risking it all. If they don’t expect me to try something, then they mustn’t know me well enough.

With the guilt riding high, I slip off the uncomfortable double bed and silently kneel, pulling the rolled-up hoodie out from under the bed. I’d stashed it under here the moment I pushed my way through the cheap motel door. Marcus had slipped into the bathroom while Roman stayed out front talking to Mick on the phone, and I took my shot. I couldn’t risk them seeing what I’d stolen from the warehouse. If they knew what I was about to do … fuck.

My hand slips inside the fabric of the hoodie, and my stomach twists as my fingers brush over the cold metal of the handcuffs.

They’re legit going to kill me, and Marcus might even enjoy it.

Anxiety pulses through my veins, and I blow my cheeks out in a heavy breath before finally finding the nerves to get back to my feet. I rub the cuffs between my hands, trying to warm the cool metal before leaning over the cramped double bed. I hold my breath, and before I back out like the chicken shit that I am, I hook the cuff over Marcus’ wrist and slowly clamp it shut. The metal jingles, and I swear I could either faint or throw up. I don’t even want to begin to think what Marcus could do in a split second, getting woken and assuming I was an intruder.

I close the cuff around the heavy bed frame before turning my attention on Roman across the room. He’s sprawled out on the couch and a part of me dies. The guy hasn’t slept in a proper bed for at least two weeks. We had ridiculous little beds in the bunker, a couch at his burned down mega-mansion, and nothing but a dirty cell floor at the castle playground. They’re going to need a vacation once they finally get through all of this bullshit … assuming we all get through this alive.

Padding across the shitty motel room, I creep up to Roman and try not to stare. Roman is some kind of super-human, and I don’t doubt that my stare lingering on his face for a moment too long could probably wake him.

I move extra carefully, sweat beginning to coat my skin. I could hurl. Hell, once I get through the door and into the car, maybe I just might. Fuck, I’ve wandered through his bedroom a million times while he’s slept and not woken him, even had nights of tossing and turning right next to him, probably kicked him in the shins a few times too, so why the hell does this time feel so risky?

Reaching his side, I take the cuffs and slowly thread it over his wide wrist, feeling like absolute shit about it. The cuffs aren’t going to hold them back. They’ll probably tear straight through them, and assuming there’s a gun shoved in their pants or below their pillows, they’ll shoot their way out, but it’s enough to get me out of the door.

I frantically search around for something to attach Roman to, but all I’ve got is the lamp bolted to the ground. It won’t bring much of a challenge, but for now, it’s the only chance I’ve got.

Moving toward the door, I glance back at my sleeping soldiers, knowing without a doubt that I’ll be seeing them soon.

Slipping out of the room, I run.

My gaze lingers on the Escalade, and I shake off the thought for the millionth time. Roman and Marcus are going to need it. It has all their weapons and plans. Without it … well, they won’t entirely be fucked. They’re the kind to go into a situation blind and come out looking like gods. They don’t need the car, but it’ll definitely help, and I don’t doubt that there will come a time during my night where I’ll need that help. So, instead, I run for the main road.

There’s a gas station a mile down the street, and by the time I reach it, my heart is pounding. I’m not a runner, but tonight, I’m a fucking track star whether I like it or not.

I hide in the bushes, impatiently waiting. This isn’t exactly my brightest idea to date, but when a girl is desperate, there’s no saying what she might do.

A black Dodge RAM comes hurtling into the gas station and pulls up beside the pump as a grin tears across my face. The guy who falls out of the driver’s seat looks as though he’s on his tenth bourbon for the night, and the desperation in his eyes suggests that maybe some chick just agreed to let him rail her for the whole four seconds that it’ll take for him to come and grunt the wrong name.

Bingo.

I watch, waiting for my chance to strike, and because I’m a classy bitch, I make sure he’s pumped enough gas to get me where I need to go. Minutes pass and the moment he turns his back to his Dodge RAM and heads into the store I pump my fist like a fucking loser and make my move.

I race across the lot doing my best to keep quiet, and as I reach the big truck, I start praying to Taylor Swift that there isn’t a passenger in the cab.

Yanking the door open, I do a quick scan before diving headfirst into the truck. The cab is empty and as my heart races, I frantically bring the seat as far forward as it’ll allow before pressing the push start button and feeling the monster of a truck come alive beneath me.

It’s loud and the whole thing vibrates with power. My head snaps up, watching the guy through the dirty windows. He’s too occupied scanning through rows of condoms and knowing my shot isn’t going to get any better than this, I hit the gas and take off like a bat out of hell.

24

MARCUS

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Roman’s voice booms through the small motel room, and my head snaps up from the pillow, my eyes springing open, ready for any threat. My arm immediately pulls back in a jarring yank, my wrist screaming from a sharp cool metal.

The room is pitch black, and I instantly search for the threat before my gaze flicks back to find my bed empty and my wrist cuffed to the fucking headboard. “FUCK,” I roar, pulling on the cuff, testing its resistance.

“She took off,” Roman spits, standing from the couch.

My hand falls to the sheets beside me, and I curse under my breath, struggling to control the rage pulsing through my veins. “The bed’s cold. She’s long gone.”

A heavy thump sounds from the couch, and I take a moment to look him over, finding him in the same fucked-up situation, only cuffed to the damn lamp. He pulls on the cuff, anger radiating out of him like a fucking tsunami, destroying everything in its path.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” he spits, turning his gaze away from me to mask the panic in his eyes.

“Get in line,” I spit back, sitting up and turning, trying to find a weakness in the headboard that I can use to my advantage. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve spilled blood, and I’m getting a little antsy. I crave it, need it. It’s my fucking elixir to life, and right now, the thought of spilling Shayne’s is sitting high on my list of priorities.

Fuck her and her bullshit little games. Is this what it feels like to be played? I can’t say I’ve ever let someone pull one over on me like that, never allowed someone close enough to even try. Fucking sneaky brat. Her perky ass is going to be stinging when I’m through with her.

Roman quickly grows impatient with the lamp and tears the whole fucking thing right out of the ground before holding it up and letting the cuff fall off the bottom. He throws what’s left of the lamp across the room, taking his anger out on the cheap metal before trying his luck at squeezing his hand through the cuff on his wrist.

I scoff. Every fucking idiot in cuffs always tries that shit. He should know better.

Quickly realizing his attempts are useless, he strides over to the small double bed and scans the headboard with a keen eye, trying to figure out how the fuck to get me out of here. I’m not gonna lie, it’s not the first time Roman has had to save me from some crazy chick who handcuffed me to a bed, but it’s the first time he’s not been laughing about it.

“I should have fucking known,” he grunts, gripping on to the headboard and pulling it away from the wall, pressing his whole weight over the narrow bars that keep me bound and grunting as he forces them down. “She accepted it too easily. Back at the warehouse. It didn’t feel right.”

The bars give way under his weight but not enough to free me. “I know,” I mutter, recalling the moment we cornered her in the tech room only for her to agree too quickly. Roman and I had questioned it between ourselves, but ultimately, we decided that she understood the risks. “She could be fucking …”

I cut myself off, not wanting to imagine what could be happening to her right now.

“She couldn’t have been gone for more than an hour, maybe two at the absolute most,” Roman says, prompting me to turn to the old digital clock bolted to the bedside table. It’s just after midnight, but that’s far too late. If she’s already made it back to Gia’s home, then the scene we turn up to could be something none of us could possibly move on from.

As if that same thought circles Roman’s head, he presses all his weight down on the metal bar once more and it caves again, snapping under the pressure. Without skipping a beat, I slide the cuff from the bar and grab my fucking shirt. I yank it over my head and have my gear in my hands before the hem has even fallen to my waist.

It’s a shitload earlier than when we’d planned to do this, but when the hell have our plans ever gone right? Hell, I don’t think we’ve ever seen a plan through. In our world, we’re all too used to shit blowing up in our faces, but when it comes to Shayne Mariano—or Shayne Fucking DeAngelis as she’s legally known as of now—we can’t fucking handle it. She has us all wrapped around her pinky, and as much as we hate to admit it, she’s the one pulling the strings here.

We’re out the door in two fucking seconds, and I let out a breath after finding the Escalade right where we left it. My brows furrow as I tear the door open and fly up into the passenger seat. “Why would she leave the car?” I bite out as Roman climbs in beside me and slams his door with a heavy thump.

He shakes his head as he backs out of the parking space and takes off like a fucking rocket, tires screeching against the asphalt, leaving thick black lines of rubber in his wake. “My guess is that whatever fucked-up plan is going through her head, she still needs us to come and save her ass.”

“She would have had to steal a ride,” I muse out loud, unable to focus on the road in front of us. “That could buy us some time.”

“Maybe,” he says, an edge in his voice that tells me he doesn’t feel good about this, a feeling that’s all too mutual. “We can only hope that she was listening to the plan and knows where to get in. If she’s beaten us there and goes in gun blazing through the front fucking gates …”

“She’s not suicidal,” I remind him. “A fucking brat with a death wish, but not suicidal. She’ll play it safe. At least until she’s got Levi right where she wants him. After that, there’s no telling what she’ll do to try and get them out.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, clenching his jaw. “Then we better make sure we’re there when this shit goes south. I can’t fucking lose her. Not like this.”

The thought to console him filters through my head. I should tell him we’re going to get her back, that we’re going to save them both and somehow come out of this unscathed. But that’s not the relationship I share with my brothers. Never has been. To sit here and discuss how our hearts are breaking at the idea of Shayne falling captive to the Moretti family feels weak, feels wrong. Roman knows where my head is just as I know where his fucked-up one is. We’re both ready, and that’s all that counts.

I shake my head, the disbelief clouding my mind and making it hard to focus. I turn to Roman and an involuntary grin tears across my face. “She fucking cuffed us, man,” I say with a breathy scoff, lightening the mood in the cab, trying to pull him out of the hole his mind is dragging him into. “How the fuck did we let her get away with that?”

His eyes sparkle for just a moment before he schools his features. “More like how the fuck did she manage to find two sets of handcuffs and smuggle them out of the warehouse?” He laughs to himself before letting it fade away. “If she somehow survives this, then she’s definitely got a career in smuggling if she wants one. Clearly, she’s got talent.”

“No shit,” I mutter, the words choking me up.

She’s going to be okay. If she felt out of her league, she would have waited with us.

Fucking hell. I can’t even lie to myself. She wouldn’t have waited for us. Her mind is set on getting to Levi no matter what. I should have known the second we had a firm location, she would have been out the fucking door, and that’s on us.

Shayne is the type of chick to fall hard, and that’s exactly what she did with each of us. She loves fiercely and proudly, without question or hesitation. She’s accepted what we are, what we’ve done, and for that, she’s the whole fucking world to me. She would do anything for us, and any other time, I’d worship her for that very thought. But right now, her hero complex is really pissing me off.

If Shayne wants to survive in this world and wants to thrive at our sides, then she’s going to have to learn how to look out for herself, and she’s going to have to learn it fast.

A moment passes when Roman is clear-headed enough to pull his phone from the center console. He presses a few buttons before the call picks up over the Bluetooth and Mick’s deep voice fills the cab. “What do you need?” he questions.

“Get your boys ready,” Roman tells him. “Plans have changed.”

“We’re ready,” he says, and without another word, Roman ends the call and presses harder on the gas.

The hour drive out of the city feels like it drags on forever. Roman hasn’t said a word since ending the call, and I haven’t bothered to either. My mind is focused. Set and ready. I’m craving the bloodshed like never before, and the sooner I get in there and find my girl, the better.

My chest aches for her, screams for her, and I can only hope that she knows what she’s doing.

The Escalade pulls to a stop a few streets away from the entrance of the gated community where a black Dodge RAM stands out like dog’s balls. We have no clue what the gate code is, nor do we feel it’s a good idea to play guessing games with that one and set off every alarm system in the area.

Guns are loaded, earpieces inserted, and knives strapped to every available inch of skin. I hear Mick in my ear testing the earpiece while Roman straps a bulletproof vest to his chest. Can’t say we’ve ever worn them before, but tonight is a fucking war. It’s Roman and me up against the fucking Moretti army, and with that thought circling my mind, I reach for the other vest and strap it on.

Letting out a breath, I meet Roman’s heavy stare. “You good?” he asks me.

Find Shayne. Save Levi. Get the fuck out of there without dying in the process.

Easy. What could I possibly have to worry about?

I give him a curt nod, determination deep in my eyes. “I’m good.” I tell him, not bothering to ask the same in return. I know he’s ready; I see it in the way he holds himself, the way his chin lowers and his eyes darken like two storm clouds rolling in to destroy everything in their path.

Roman holds my stare a moment longer, each of us knowing the risks all too well, knowing that one wrong move could see either of us spending eternity in a shallow grave. And with that, we take off toward the gated community, more than ready to spill Moretti blood.

25

SHAYNE

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What was I thinking?

My elbows hit the hard earth as I crawl through the thick bushy hedges that surround Gia’s property. It’s already been a nightmare getting to this point. Scaling the fence of the outer community was a joke and then ending up in some rich dude’s backyard wasn’t pleasant either. His dog wasn’t exactly happy to see me, but lucky the poor thing was overfed, old, and had short legs. I got away with nothing but a small nip to my ass as I tried to fly over the side entrance.

Really not my finest hour, but things could have been worse.

I stuck to the shadows, all too aware of how much time I was wasting. It took nearly thirty minutes to navigate my way to the big Moretti mansion, each passing second closing the gap until Roman and Marcus come and whoop my ass for cuffing them in that shitty motel.

They’re never going to forgive me for that one. Well, Roman won’t. Marcus will probably just get payback by using it in some kinky sex games, and honestly, I’m down for whatever he wants to put out.

I made my way around to the side of Gia’s property, right where the boys had planned on making their grand entrance, which is exactly how I got here. Commando crawling under the thick hedges, my elbows digging into the mud, and my hair catching in the hedges above me. Not gonna lie, chilling with the spiders isn’t exactly my idea of fun, but if it means getting to Levi, then I’ll do it.

It’s the thickest hedge I’ve ever come across, and after what feels like a lifetime, my head peeks out the other side, giving me the worst possible view of the property, but right now, I’ll take anything I can get.

There are guards everywhere, each of them evenly scattered, watching their designated section. The property is huge, but from the ground, it looks a million times bigger than I remember. Though when I was here last, I wasn’t exactly focusing on the manicured gardens. I was in a state of mourning followed by a state of pissed-off, raging anger. It was like the worst kind of PMS.

Big lights cover every section of the property, and I let out a shaky breath. Running across that is going to be like bolting through a minefield while escaping a prison, guards more than ready to shoot me down. The sky is still overcast with big dark clouds, making the night sky seem so much darker but thankfully working for me, the angles of the lights leave long shadows that are dark enough for me to slip through … at least, I hope.

Swallowing down the nerves and anxiety, I figure there’s no better time than the present. Keeping as quiet as a mouse, I slip out from under the thick hedge and plaster my back to the bush, stepping back into it to keep myself concealed.

A guard walks the perimeter, and I remind myself that I’m the same girl who broke out of Lucas Miller’s fucked-up bathtub with severe stab wounds. I’m the girl who escaped Giovanni’s desert cells and slaughtered the men holding me captive. I chainsawed a rapist in half without even blinking.

I’ve got this. I just need to call on that crazy bitch who lives inside me.

With every step the guard gets closer to me, I feel that bitch rising up inside me. I forget all the little things that make this guard human, forget about the family who might be waiting on him, forget about the student loans that he never planned on paying back, forget about the Great Dane in his too-small backyard that he needs, not because he loves him as a pet, but because he’s overcompensating for something else.

I forget it all.

The only thing that matters is that this guard is just one more hurdle keeping me from Levi.

And with that, I pounce.

My arm locks around his throat, my hand clamping over his mouth to keep him silent. I drag him back into the thick bushes as my hand falls to his thigh, tearing the knife out of its sheath. He stumbles back, taken by surprise, and in a half-assed attempt to save himself, he roars against my hand, trying to grip me as we disappear into the hedges. Out of sight, out of mind, but it’s already too late for him.

I bring the knife down in a deep arc across the front of his throat, and blood immediately pours out like a fountain over his chest. He fights me for a moment but quickly grows weak, and I lower his heavy body to the ground, doing what I can to keep concealed and quiet.

His eyes go glassy as I look away, not ready to feel like shit about this just yet. Once I have all three of the boys back in the safety of our home—wherever that might be—then I can allow myself to grieve over the lives I’ve destroyed here tonight, but not a second before.

Needing to blend in, my lips pull into a cringe. “Sorry, dude,” I mutter, slipping the cap off his head and fixing it to mine. I consider taking his uniform too, but like … yuck. It’s blood soaked and ruined, and while I’m desperate, I’m not that desperate.

I take his weapons, unclasping the holsters from his thighs and strapping them to mine before taking the gun at his hip and jamming it into the waistband of my pants.

Wanting to get out of here before anyone realizes this guy is missing, I slip out of the bushes, pull the cap down over my face and keep my head down. I follow the path the guard was expected to walk, sticking to the shadows, which is harder than it sounds.

Nerves wreak havoc over my body, my hands quickly growing clammy, and I can’t help the feeling that every single guard on the property is watching me. In reality, they’re minding their own damn business, probably wondering why the fuck they’ve been called to walk circles around the property all night.

A pathway comes up and I hesitate. If I take it, I draw attention to myself, but if I don’t, I’m going to end up walking the same path for hours. It’s mostly masked in shadow, and I realize that this could very well be my only shot at this.

My knees shake but I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I’m moving onto the path. I start walking up toward the mansion at the top of the hill, bypassing other guards and keeping my head down. No one pays attention to me, and I sure as fuck don’t raise my head to pay any to them.

The pathway is long, and just when I think I’m getting away with it, a voice cuts through the silence. “Yo, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” a guard questions from his post to the side of the path.

My eyes bug out of my head, and I scramble for anything to say as I spare a sideways glance, trying to keep my face concealed. I’m supposed to be playing the role of a guard, and for a moment, I consider telling him that I’m due for my break, but that’s a risk in itself. Gia probably doesn’t offer her guards breaks. So instead, I lower my voice and do my best Marcus impression. “Gotta spring a leak.”

The guard grunts, clearly not impressed, but he lets me pass. “Make it quick. Boss bitch will have your ass if she catches you slacking.”

I force a scoff through my throat. “Yeah, man. I’ll make it quick.”

I pass by him like a fucking tornado tearing through a quiet town. Fast and straight to the fucking point. I don’t know how the hell I got away with that one. It must be the late hour and the double shift this guy is probably pulling. Either way, I don’t plan to linger.

Moving up the pathway, I finally reach the main house. I stand around the back of the property, not daring to plaster myself so obviously at the front of the home. The property has been done up with spectacular gardens and a pool that I would die for. There are three separate outdoor dining areas just on this side of the property, and I realize that during my week here, I really didn’t take enough time to appreciate everything that Gia built. Not going to lie, had she had a heart inside that chest of hers and if she was a decent person, maybe I would have enjoyed being her daughter. Might have even visited every now and then.

Fuck that. I learned a while ago that people are never who they appear to be, and Gia is the perfect example of that.

Moving deeper through the outdoor entertaining area, I try to figure out a plan. I can’t exactly smash my way through a window like I did at the DeAngelis mansion. I mean, why do all these asshole mafia bosses have to have mega-mansions, and why do I feel the need to keep breaking into them? This is so fucked up and definitely not the life I dreamed of while I was in high school. But then, what girl wouldn’t dream of having fiercely loyal men like the DeAngelis brothers railing her every night? Not gonna lie, if breaking into homes is what I have to do to keep the wicked, kinky railing going, then that’s what I’m going to do.

I sidle right up against the side of the house and try to put together a plan. I’m not so stupid to walk straight through the back door, so it has to be a window. But which one to tackle is the ultimate question. Which one is going to cause the least amount of trouble for me?

My stomach clenches and twists with nervous anticipation as I pass by one of the many formal living rooms and come to a stop as a guard stands out on the back porch, a puff of smoke blowing out in front of him. The side door is open just a fraction and hope surges through me.

I can’t say I’ve ever caught myself being thankful for cigarettes. It’s always been drummed into me that cigarettes will kill me, but tonight, one of those little cancer sticks might just save my life.

The guard stands a little further out from the building, not wanting the smoke to blow back into the mansion and get caught. Something tells me that Gia isn’t one of those bosses to be overly happy about her guards slacking on the job and taking cigarette breaks, but the fact he’s chosen this particular spot suggests that perhaps there may be a blind spot in her security surveillance, and I intend to take full advantage of it.

Sneaking closer to the guard, I keep my wits about me, using the stealth and silence the boys trained me with while drawing my trusty knife. I’m not going to lie, I wish I had the strength to simply snap a grown man’s spine with a twist of his neck like the boys do, but it’s just not in the cards for me. So, until I find something easier, I’m left with the good old slit throat. It’s messy, but it’ll have to do.

The asshole doesn’t even see me coming. One second, he’s puffing away on his cigarette, his attention focused on his phone, the next, my hand is knotted in his hair, yanking his head back and the sharp blade is sailing across his throat.

He drops like a heavy sack of shit, and I groan at the mess he leaves behind. He’s out in the open and anyone could come by his body, but what choice do I have? If I drag him away and hide his body, there’s going to be a long ass trail of blood left behind which is going to be just as obvious as stumbling across the body.

Oh well, I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t. It’s not like I’m about to go searching for a garden hose and spend an insane amount of time cleaning up after myself. That’s simply not on the agenda tonight.

Not wanting to waste any more time on it, I leave the guy to be found and slip in through the back door, making sure to pull it closed behind me. The formal living room I step into is beautiful. Everywhere I look is white marble, and the plush white carpet beneath my shoes is the best kind of carpet money can buy.

The thought has my gaze drifting down to my feet, and I gape at the blood I’ve just marched across the room, the blood staining my fingers and destroying literally every object I’ve come in contact with.

Well, shit. That also hadn’t been on the agenda today.

Going against everything I believe in, I scuff my shoes against the white carpet, wiping off every little smear of blood, rubbing until the soles of my shoes are crystal clear and absolutely destroying the expensive carpet in the process. Then just to add salt to the wound, I crouch down and wipe the blood from my hands as well.

It’s a necessary evil. I can’t afford to make tracks and have someone follow me through the mansion. It’s the same as drawing a target in the center of my forehead and firing a gun in the middle of the place to draw attention to myself. Covering my tracks is common sense, and with everything already working against me, I have to do what little I can to protect myself. Plus, I can just hear the bullshit Roman would have thrown at me had I allowed that to happen.

Certain that I won’t be making any more tracks, I make my way through the formal living room, stopping behind oversized vases and curtains to get a feel for the rooms I’m about to enter. I hear guards and staff deeper in the house, but from where I’m standing, I don’t see anything.

I’m not foolish enough to believe that Gia is fast asleep in her bed all the way upstairs. She’s making her way around here somewhere. My only hope is that she’s holed up in her office, leaving her guards to do all her dirty work.

Convinced that the coast is clear, I sprint through the formal living room and through the adjoining foyers before finding the main entrance with the double staircase that I’d once thought was the best feature of the mansion. Taking a risk, I circle right around the over-done staircase and let out a shaky breath. I’ve been out in the open for far too long, taking too many risks, but I’m so close. I have to keep going.

Moving around the final corner of the grand staircase, just as I’d done a million times during my week here, I sail through the adjoining hallway and bring myself to a stop outside the elevator that goes down into the training facility below.

I always assumed the training room was the lowest part of the mansion. Zeke was always the one to press the button, and I never took it upon myself to notice if there were any levels below, but this elevator has to be the way down there. I spent hours searching this place before getting sidetracked learning that the boys were still alive, and during my searching, I didn’t find anything else that could possibly suggest another way down to the cells below.

My hand slams down over the call button as my heart races. The stupid thing moves like a fucking snail, and I look back over my shoulder, certain that if I’m going to get sprung, now is going to be the time.

I bounce on my toes, my knees shaking with anticipation as my hand hovers over the gun in the back waistband of my pants.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

Anyone would think that a woman with a shitload of cash ready to burn would be able to afford an elevator fit for a queen. It’s not like we’re back in the early days where an elevator attendant would literally stand inside with you, closing gates and pulling a chain to bring us up and down.

What feels like a million years later, the elevator dings, and I curse it to hell. It’s the softest ding I’ve ever heard, but right now it sounds like a fucking wrecking ball smashing through the walls.

The door opens, and I hastily get in before turning around and slamming my hand over the close door button, all too aware that there could have been someone waiting for me inside.

I scan the buttons. There are two upper levels which would lead to the bedrooms and living suites, the current level I’m on, and then the training room below. My brows furrow and I shake my head. There has to be something more. Some way to get down to Gia’s cells below.

I spin around, taking in every corner of the elevator when I find a single black button on the wall. It’s much smaller than the other buttons and mostly hidden by the interior design of the elevator. My finger retracts, nerves pulsing through me. There’s a good chance that button lets off some kind of alarm and will screw me over in the worst way, but what do I have to lose? I’m not leaving this place without Levi, and it won’t be long until the boys are storming in here to save my stupid ass.

Letting out a shaky breath, my finger strikes out, hitting the button with a fierce determination.

The elevator starts moving down, and I grip my gun, certain that if I’m right and the door opens to Gia’s hidden cells, there will be guards lying in wait, and I’m going to be ready. I hold the gun out in front of me, my finger hovering over the trigger.

The further the elevator descends, the more my stomach fills with unease, but the second the soft ding sounds through the small metal box and the door slides open, every bit of hesitation dissolves within me.

Three guards stand inside the darkened room, one looking my way, his brows furrowed while the other two keep their stares on whatever the fuck they’re doing.

My gun rings out.

A bullet plunges deep into the first guard’s chest as I move like lightning, sprinting forward and adjusting my arm to the right before they get a chance to react. Their sharp gazes whip toward me, their eyes wide with fear as the gun sings out again. BANG! BANG!

One bullet pierces through the closer guard’s skull, sending him flailing backward, while the other collides with the further guard’s shoulder. He cries out, and I take another shot—BANG! My arm flinches with the powerful shot, but I keep moving forward, watching as he falls, one bullet in his shoulder, the other straight through his chest.

I don’t stop to make sure they’re dead because the second I look down at them and see them as humans bleeding out on the ground, I’ll break. My conscience will come up and crush me, and I can’t afford that right now. All that matters is racing around the corner and finding the man I’ve been desperate to see for the past three days.

My feet move like lightning, rushing across the dark flooring, barely touching the ground. I race around the corner and into a wide-open room with black walls and chains hanging from bars across the ceiling, and right there in the center of the room is the reason I’m here.

I pull myself to a stop, my greedy gaze sailing over every inch of his body, taking in the angry whip marks across his wide chest. He looks strong but exhausted. His chest rises with heavy breaths, and I don’t doubt that every movement kills him just a little bit more.

“Well, well,” I mutter, a wicked grin spreading across my face. The relief is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. “If it isn’t my favorite DeAngelis.”

A relieved sigh escapes through Levi’s lips as he slowly raises his head to meet my eyes, and the pain I see reflected in his is nearly enough to drop me to my knees. “You better not let Marcus hear you utter those words.”

I race toward him, my desperation knowing no bounds. “You’ve got it all wrong,” I tell him, scanning over his binds and trying to figure out how the hell to get him out of here. It won’t be long until someone finds me on the camera feed and decides to do something about it. After all, those gunshots couldn’t have gone unnoticed. “If I tell him you’re my favorite, then he might just spend the rest of his life trying to convince me otherwise … and the sex when that man is on a mission. Daaaaamn. That might just be the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Levi shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips, but his exhaustion is quickly catching up to him. “Get me the fuck out of here, babe,” he mutters, pulling against the chains as he glances around the room. “Where are the boys?”

My lips twist into a cringe and I let out a shaky breath. “You see, here’s the thing…”

Levi fixes me with a hard stare, the look in his eyes making my words fall away. “What the fuck did you do?”

26

“Can you bitch at me later?” I question, meeting Levi’s dark eyes. “Now really isn’t the best time. We have to get out of here.”

“No shit,” he mutters. “You snuck all the way in here and decided to let off four fucking gunshots at the very last moment. Are you trying to get every last guard down here?”

“Would you have preferred that I took on all three of those guards with my bare hands?” I question, searching around for some kind of release for the chains.

Levi smirks. “Why not? I’ve seen you take on three men plenty of times and you’ve never had an issue handling yourself. In fact—”

I give him a blank stare. “Seriously? Sex jokes right now?”

His brows bounce, and despite the agony tearing through his body, he’s doing everything he can to keep in good spirits. “Whoever said that being held captive was supposed to be boring?” he questions. “Though, I’m not going to lie, I’m surprised to see you, little one. Imagine all the fun we could have down here together.”

My face scrunches as I study him a little closer. “Did they give you something?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nope. This is all me, baby. Now, if you wouldn’t mind kindly releasing me from these fucking chains, I’d really appreciate it.”

“How?” I spit, frantically searching around, all too aware of the time quickly ticking by. “I’ve got a gun, but I’m not sure I can make the shot.”

He shakes his head. “No, the chains are too thick. If anything, it’ll ricochet and hit us both, or you’ll just shoot me by accident.”

“If you don’t start being a little more helpful, I might just shoot you on purpose,” I throw back at him, my gaze lingering on the welts across his chest, already trying to think of what creams I’ll need to go searching for the moment we get out of here. “What do I do?”

He swallows hard and lets out a heavy breath that has his lips twisting into a pained cringe. “Out where the guards were. There’s some kind of closet or storage area where they keep all their fucked-up little toys. Check in there.”

I rush out into the hallway to where the guards were watching over Levi and find the storage room just as Levi had said and tear the door open. There’s all sorts of shit, but the industrial bolt cutters are what have my attention. I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to cut through it, but I’ve got to try.

Hurrying back into Levi’s strange cell, I get straight to work, struggling with the weight of the cutters let alone making them do what they’re supposed to do. “What’s the plan?” Levi questions, grunting as my movements pull against the chains and rub at his bloodied wrists. “Have you got weapons? Gia’s not going to let us just walk out of here.”

I swallow hard and refuse to meet his stare, concentrating on the chains above his head. “The plan is to get out and we have whatever weapons we can pull off those assholes out there.”

“Fuck, babe. Did you honestly just come storming in here without thinking this through?”

“It was no better than the plan your brothers put together,” I throw back at him. “They were going to leave me behind. Make me hang out with Mick like a little bitch who can’t handle herself. And for the record, I think I’m doing pretty fucking well to have made it this far. Marcus wouldn’t have been able to resist slaughtering every guard in sight. It would have been noisy and messy, which would have only seen a war out on the lawn and given Gia all the time she needed to get down here and finish you before they even made it through the front door. So, feel free to thank me at any time.”

Levi shakes his head, and I can’t tell if he’s frustrated or just knows that I’m right … maybe both. But either way, it’s not important right now. “I can’t break through the chains,” I tell him. “I’m not strong enough.”

“You are,” he tells me, conviction shining in his dark eyes. “Keep trying. You’ve got this. Besides, when my brothers inevitably show up, do you really want to tell them that you got this far and then gave up? Marcus would never let you live it down and Roman would have you doing push-ups every day for the rest of your life. Now break the damn chains.”

Groaning, I try again, straining my muscles until they ache, trying to snap through the heavy chain. The metal puts up a good fight, but with the image of Marcus laughing at me in my head, I give it that little bit more until the chain finally breaks under the pressure. The bolt cutters fall and narrowly miss Levi’s head as the chains give out, releasing him from their hold. He drops heavily to the ground, and I go down with him.

“Are you alright?” I rush out, my eyes wide. His arms are probably aching. He hasn’t been able to stand properly for days, dangling here with no relief. I can’t even imagine how his shoulders feel. He takes a deep breath, slowly bringing his arms around in circles, testing the joints while his muscles more than likely scream for relief. “Levi?”

He shakes his head. “My shoulders are fucked. It’s gonna be weeks before they’re back to normal.”

“Can I do anything?”

He pushes to his feet, his face showing every ounce of agony that his body has suffered through as he grips on to me. It takes a moment to get his balance, but the second he does, he looks just like the fierce asshole who stormed through my shitty apartment all those months ago, intent on raising the dead. “Nah, there’s nothing we can do right now. Let’s just get out of here and figure out our next step.”

Gripping his hand, I lead him out of the cell, and as we stride past the guards slowly bleeding out on the floor, Levi pulls me up short. “Well, hey there, Larry. Fancy seeing you down here.” He crouches down and pulls the gun from Larry’s hip. “Did you guys get a chance to meet? This is my girl, Shayne. You know, the one you said you were going to fuck right there in front of me.” He looks over the bullet wound in his chest and presses the tip of the gun into the hole and listens to his scream. “You’ll have to forgive Shayne, she’s new to this whole killing people thing, but it’s cool. Not everyone just gets it, you know. She’ll learn to take better kill shots, she just needs a little more practice.”

I cross my arms over my chest, sighing as he uses my pathetic skills as an excuse to torture this guy as he slowly bleeds out.

“Anyway,” he continues. “It’s been really nice chilling with you these past few days, but I really must be going. Though don’t stress, I haven’t forgotten about my promise to end your life. So, just to wrap this up, it’s been fun, glad you met Shayne, and I’ll see you in hell.” And with that, Levi stands before letting out two shots straight through the hole in his chest that I’d already put there while listening to his sweet screams. He smiles as if getting some sort of peace before moving the gun to the guard’s face and taking a perfect shot right through his eye.

Levi turns the gun on the other two guards, taking the kill shots that I clearly hadn’t been able to make before indicating for me to collect as many of their weapons as possible. “You good?” he questions, cringing as he rolls his shoulder, the shots having irritated his joints.

I scoff, looking back up at him as I hand him a bunch of guns and knives. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

He looks back at me as though unsure why I would feel the need to ask him how he is, and with a bonus eye roll, I let out a heavy sigh, making my way over to the elevator. I press the call button, and Levi moves to my side, checking over the guns and counting bullets. “Prepare yourself,” he says, handing one to me. “It could be an ambush.”

Levi discreetly moves a step in front of me, and I resist the need to curse him out when the doors open, and we’re met with nothing but an empty elevator.

“Huh?” I grunt, my lips pulling into an ugly sneer. “Why aren’t they coming?”

Levi shakes his head. “I don’t know. They could be waiting for us up top. Don’t drop your guard.”

Nervously moving into the elevator, the door closes behind us and I press the button for the main floor. We start moving up, and Levi quickly rolls out his shoulders once again, his face contorted with pain. “You know that really fucking sucked,” he murmurs. “I had to start meditating just to try and forget the pain.”

I glance across at him. “You know how to meditate?”

His lips pull into a cheesy grin, and I see laughter flashing in his eyes. “Absolutely not. It didn’t fucking work and only managed to frustrate me some more.”

“Serves you right for walking away—”

“Uh-uh,” he says, wagging his fingers just as the elevator dings our arrival. He indicates for me to focus on the door while adjusting his stance. “No time for ‘I told you so’s’ in battle, my deadly little assassin.”

“Deadly little assassin?” I scoff as the door slowly begins to draw back. Surely he could come up with a name a little more … scary than that. I mean, I’m really rocking this whole slitting throats thing. If I’m going to get a serial killer name, I want it to be something cool.

“Well, mostly deadly assassin,” he teases, his eyes lighting with excitement at the thought of destroying the Moretti empire from within its very walls.

The door opens and Levi and I stand in silence, staring out at the empty hallway. “What the fuck?” he sighs. “Why aren’t people trying to kill us?”

There’s a hint of irritation and annoyance in his tone, sounding like an eight-year-old who just learned he has to share his ice cream with his baby sister. “I’m sorry,” I murmur, peeking out the elevator to the empty hallway beyond. “Were you hoping for an ambush?”

He shrugs his shoulders and presses his hand to my lower back, casually leading me out of the elevator as though we were in the lobby of a fancy five-star hotel, not in the heart of his enemy’s lair. We get all of three steps before we hear the shooting coming from outside and a grin tears across Levi’s face. “Guess our back up finally arrived.”

I scoff, shaking my head while letting out a sigh. “I told you they wouldn’t be able to get through the front door without causing a scene.”

As if on cue, an army of guards rush through the open foyer of the mega-mansion and if we were just a few steps ahead in the hallway, we would have been sprung for sure. “I suppose we should go and help them.”

“I mean, what’s the rush?” I murmur, a smile playing on my lips. “Marcus hasn’t killed anyone in like … weeks. He’s probably out there having the time of his life. If we go, we’re only taking away from his body count.”

Levi shakes his head and nods up toward the floor-to-ceiling front door across the foyer. “Quit stalling. Get your ass out the door and … fuck.”

Without warning, Levi throws his hand up and two loud shots echo through the hallway behind me. A sharp gasp tears from the back of my throat as I spin around to find two guards bleeding out on the ground, knives in their hands, barely a step behind us.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, realizing just how close I’d come to having a knife through my spine. “I guess I should thank you for that.”

“No shit,” he says, his voice in a hushed whisper just like mine. “I accept sexual favors in the form of blow jobs. Now, if you’re gonna deep throat that shit, I’ll let you right off the ho—”

The sight of six armed guards moving toward us from the foyer is enough to stop Levi mid-sentence. “Well, this just got a little more interesting,” he mutters, moving with me further into the foyer to meet them head on, rather than leaving us backed into the hallway.

The guards circle us from every angle as I hear the battle raging outside, gunshots screaming through the night as men scream for freedom. The boys must be doing well out there, which means there’s no reason why we shouldn’t do the same here. “Know what you’re doing?” Levi questions, putting us back-to-back, naturally choosing the side he believes would have the toughest opponents while leaving me to deal with the scraps.

A grin pulls at my face as I watch the three men who I’m about to slaughter. “Of course,” I tell him, not prepared to admit that I’m more interested in hearing more about this whole deep throating situation than what I’m about to face down. “I was trained by none other than DeAngelis royalty.”

And just like that, the guards storm toward us.

I’m not here to fuck around, so instead of bothering with this hand-to-hand combat bullshit, I raise my right hand and let off three shots directly in front of me. The guard in the center drops to the ground as the other two run at me from the side. I try to get off another shot but they’re too close and the gun is knocked right out of my hand and slides across the marble floor.

Frustration burns through my veins. I haven’t had any sleep and am really not in the mood to be fucked with, but if these guys are willing to dust off my skills, I’m more than happy to come to the party.

Knifed fists come hurtling toward my face, and I pull away, my back pressing up against Levi’s. His hand shoots out behind him, steadying my body without sparing me a single glance. I throw myself forward, one hand snapping down to my thigh, gripping the knife with a ferocity that I wasn’t prepared for.

My hand strikes out, curving a bloodied arc through the arm of the guard on the right before it continues its arc straight back, stabbing into the gut of the other. They both cry out in rage and my adrenaline spikes, a part of me wanting to deal with these guys before Levi gets through his. Though from what I can hear of the noises coming from behind me, Levi isn’t taking any prisoners.

I keep focus and lash out, preferring to be on the offense rather than stuck defending. Flying forward, my foot kicks out in a low sweep, giving the guard on my left a hard shove and knocking him back. He tumbles, but I don’t get a second to hesitate as the other on my right comes at me. His fist flies forward and he gets only a step closer when Levi’s hand curls into his hair from behind and yanks him back onto the tip of his knife, spearing him through the back of his spine and out the front of his throat. “Sorry, man. No hard feelings.”

Levi looks at me, a sickly-sweet smile spreading across his gorgeous face. “That makes two,” he says. “Maybe I’m gonna need a little something more than just a wicked round of deep throating.”

His eyes widen, and before I can even flinch away, his hand rises and a perfectly round bullet whooshes past my shoulder and plunges deep inside the skull of the last remaining guard. My head whips back to see the guard dropping to his knees before his body collapses with a heavy thump. “Oh, come on,” I groan, throwing my hands up in frustration. “I had that one.”

“Right,” he scoffs, hearing the guys’ fight outside starting to die down. “Come on, we should—”

A slow clap sounds through the big foyer and both our heads snap across the room to find Gia standing on the bottom step of the grand staircase with Zeke right by her side. A flicker of relief washes through me. I wasn’t sure Zeke had made it after being shot in the chest, but he looks more than fine to me. Perhaps he was wearing some kind of bulletproof vest or maybe the shot to his chest simply wasn’t as bad as I’d thought.

“Impressive,” Gia says, her eyes raking over Levi with disinterest before falling on me and slowly beginning to move toward us.

Levi crowds me, his big shoulder pushing in front of me in a half-assed attempt to protect me from the woman who wants my head on a stake.

“Your training is lacking,” Gia says. “You should have been able to take out those guards in half that time. I’m disappointed, but I suppose it’s a little late for training tips because you’re not going to live long enough for it to matter. You’ll never stand in my position, never be good enough. What a joke.” She lets out a sigh, hitting the bottom step and moving in even closer, her heels clicking against the expensive white marble. “You know, for a moment there, I considered allowing you to continue here, to become my heir and take over my empire, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that you were weak. You never had what it takes to rise up, never will.”

My hand falls to Levi’s back, brushing down his skin until my fingers are digging into the waistband of his low riding pants, holding him close.

Gia continues toward us, her gaze falling back to Zeke. “Do away with the DeAngelis,” she says. “I want to end my daughter myself.”

Panic tears through me and I shake my head, needing more time. “What was the point?”

“The point of what?” she fires back as Zeke awkwardly pauses, unsure if he should keep moving.

“Sending me to live with my father,” I say. “Spending years funding what you believed was a good life for me. Why not just abort the pregnancy if you didn’t want an heir?”

A slow smile creeps across her face and a flash of pity makes my stomach twist. I know exactly what she’s going to say before the words are even out of her mouth. “You believed all of that? After everything you’ve learned over the past few weeks, you’re going to stand before me and ask such foolish questions?” She laughs to herself. “Oh, God, it’s almost comical to imagine such a daft child trying to rule over my empire. If you must know, it was Maxwell that wanted you so much. It never made sense to me when he promised I’d never have to see the two of you again. But your father was like the shit on the bottom of my shoe, no matter how much you scrub them clean, the smell just keeps coming back. He used you as a bargaining chip for twenty-two years. If I didn’t pay, Giovanni would.”

Not gonna lie, that one stings. But she’s right, I needed to believe that she wanted the best life for me. I had such a shitty childhood, and I clung to the idea that it should have been better, that I wasn’t meant to suffer the way I did.

I should have known better. I was never more than a pawn or a paycheck to anyone that was supposed to love and protect me.

Before Gia gets a chance to take this further, Roman strides into the big foyer at my right, having come in through a side entrance. His gaze sweeps over my body before falling on Levi, and while his face remains a complete mask, concealing his emotions, I feel the relief washing over him.

Roman stops to my right, leaving a few feet between us, giving Gia two separate targets rather than one big one, and I watch the way Gia watches us. Her eyes flicker from side to side, trying to figure out how to play us now that her chances of survival are beginning to plummet. She can send Zeke in, but there’s no way he can take out one of the brothers before the other makes a laughingstock out of her.

“Decisions, decisions,” I taunt, knowing the ball lies in our court.

Her jaw clenches, and just as she goes to spit what I’m assuming is another bullshit insult, a velvety voice comes pouring in from the left. “Sorry I’m late to the party,” Marcus muses, making my lips pull into a wide grin. He strides into the foyer, spinning a knife between his fingers, the blade catching on the chandelier light directly above Gia.

His sharp stare locks onto mine. “Shayne,” he says, his eyes darkening and sending me one hell of a nasty reminder that I’m right at the top of his shit list. “You’re fucking lucky that you’re all the way across the room and that all this bloodshed has managed to sedate me because I’m fucking fuming at you, babe.”

I clench my jaw. “Really? You want to talk about this right now?”

Marcus stops directly opposite Roman, the four of us creating a semi-circle around Gia and he doesn’t say another word, just focuses on the matter at hand.

Gia looks nervous, and she should be. Her guards are dead and we have her surrounded.

She has one final lifeline, and as she turns to Zeke and nods, she realizes all too quickly that she doesn’t even have that. Zeke silently steps away from her side and moves back toward the grand staircase, completing the circle.

She looks at him in horror. “What the hell is the meaning of this?” she seethes. “What are you doing?”

His lips pull into a crooked grin, and he nods his head as if in greeting. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance,” he says. “The name’s Agent Byron Davidson, FBI, but feel free to keep referring to me as the best fuck of your life. I know how much you like to get screwed.”

“Well, shit,” I laugh, drawing her attention back to me. “I bet you didn’t expect your day to end up like this when you woke up this morning.”

Gia’s eyes blaze, and just like three nights ago, standing out on the manicured lawn before the charred remains of Roman’s home, she loses control. “YOU,” she spits, her hand falling to her hip and gripping her gun. She whips it out from the holster and holds it out. “Say goodbye, bitch. You’ll never get what’s mine.”

Her hand flinches, her finger squeezing the trigger in the same moment that I drop to the ground. The bullet sails over my head as Marcus’ hand snakes out with the kind of power no man should be capable of, his knife hurtling from his fingers with perfect skill and precision.

The bullet penetrates the heavy front door before the loud BANG has even finished echoing through the expansive foyer, and in that very same moment, the tip of Marcus’ knife glides straight through her back, severing her spinal cord.

Gia’s eyes widen in shock before she slowly falls to her knees, barely holding on. Silence fills the room, this moment changing the whole fucking game.

My heart races erratically as Levi offers me his hand and pulls me to my feet. Gia’s eyes remain locked on mine, and I see in her wicked stare that she truly thought she was going to survive this. I move forward, unsure of what to say in her final moment, but as I take my last step and position myself right in front of her, I realize there is nothing I can say. She was nothing short of a monster with no heart and a black, rotting soul.

“I’ll be seeing you,” I remind her. “One of these days, I’m going to join you in hell, and I’m going to enjoy watching you burn, but not as much as I’m going to enjoy burning your empire to the ground.”

And with that, my arm stretches up above my head and I squeeze the trigger one final time. Stepping back, I watch as the heavy chandelier drops from the high ceiling. Thick glass splinters drive deep into her skin, ending her life and cascading across the foyer like a wave of shimmering diamonds.

27

A stray diamond glimmers up at me, and I scoop it out of the rubble, completely mesmerized by the way it sparkles yet screams of vengeance as a single drop of blood falls from its sharp edges.

The dust has barely settled before Roman and Marcus make their way to me, their feet crunching over the shattered diamond remains of the chandelier. Zeke—or Agent Davidson—stands back with his arms crossed over his wide chest, looking down at the woman who he’s shared a bed with for who the fuck knows how long. His expression is unreadable, but I’m sure a million things are coursing through his mind, while probably also irritated that however many years of hard work are all washed away. I bet there’s going to be one hell of a report for him to fill out come Monday morning.

Marcus reaches me first, and his tight grip instantly circles my throat, drawing me into him as his hard stare bores into mine. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t blink, just keeps staring, his wild emotions burning through his stare. He’s more unhinged than I’ve ever seen him, and fuck, I think I like it. I’ve always loved that wild intoxication from Marcus. He’s unpredictable and relentless. I never know what to expect from him, but add this dangerous desperation, and my heart is racing just as fast as his.

Roman moves to Levi’s side, seeing that Marcus is going to need a moment to calm down. He leads him out of the bloodstained rubble and Zeke follows them out of the room, leaving me with the man who first captured my soul. “I’m okay,” I choke out.

His chin lowers as his eyes go far away, giving me that same wild look he used to give me when I first arrived at the castle and he didn’t know what this pull was between us, back when he had no idea why the fuck his heart used to race so hard every time he was around me.

“You think you can cuff me and then bat your fucking eyelashes like the very thought of you running away from me didn’t destroy me?” he growls, his voice so low that I feel its vibration rocking against my chest.

He pulls his hand up, squeezing my throat just a bit tighter. “Don’t act like you don’t know why I did it,” I spit back at him, holding his stare just as profusely as he holds mine, refusing to break. Not now, not ever.

A deep growl rumbles through his chest as my lungs begin to scream, but I don’t dare gasp for breath. Marcus knows my limits, and while he’ll sure as hell push them, he won’t ever cross them.

Heat floods me, my pussy throbbing for this wild man, and seeing the desperation and desire burning in my heated stare, his mouth drops to my throat, his hand releasing me and falling to my ass. He bites my neck, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make me gasp.

Pain flares at the base of my throat, immediately replaced with the most overwhelming pleasure as he kisses me there, his tongue rolling over my skin with practiced skill. His hand grips my ass, squeezing it tight, and I push back against it, wanting more. It’s been too long since I’ve felt him. I need him more than I need to breathe.

He spins me around, plastering my back to his wide chest as I gasp for air, already missing the feel of his lips on my neck, but here, like this, I feel his raging erection grinding against my ass. Marcus grips my chin and forces my head back, and before I can even demand that he takes whatever he needs from me, his mouth is closing over mine.

His tongue dives into my mouth, and I melt into him as his hand curls around my body, sliding up the thin material of my tank and gripping my tit. He rubs my nipple between his fingers before giving it a sharp pinch, and I gasp into his mouth as the need grows wildly between my legs.

If he doesn’t touch me soon … fuck.

As if reading my every need, his other hand glides down my body and slips between my legs, cupping my pussy and giving it a firm squeeze, relieving only a fraction of the pressure until he uses the palm of his hand to grind against me.

I groan into his mouth, already panting and desperate for more while fearing that he’s going to go easy on me because of what happened with his father. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if I’ve suddenly managed to forget the trauma or if I’ve just put it aside for now, all I know is that I need to feel him inside me, need to feel his touch, need him to make me come alive again.

The beauty of Marcus DeAngelis is that he’s going to take whatever the fuck I’m giving out, and damn it, I’m giving out everything I’ve got. My body is his, I’m his salvation just as he is mine.

He releases our kiss and I gasp for breath as his mouth returns to the side of my throat and my gaze lands on the mess of blood and diamonds scattered at my feet. “I fucking love you, Shayne,” he growls as if in this very moment, the thought of loving me is wreaking havoc over his soul. He releases my pussy and I cry out, but all too soon, his hand is slipping inside my pants and grazing over my clit. “Don’t ever fuck with me like that again.”

“You know I can’t make promises like that,” I warn him, telling him what he already knows.

A ferocious growl tears through him again and without warning, two thick fingers push up inside of me, deep and raw. I gasp out and immediately grind against him before his thumb finds my clit and rubs tight little circles, just the way I like it.

“You’ll do what I fucking ask of you.”

My hand slams back against his cock and he grunts in pain before grinding against my palm and allowing me to release him from the confines of his pants. His heavy cock falls into my hand, and I squeeze him tight, pausing at the very tip and grinning at the way his breath catches, hostage to nothing but my grip. “And become your little yes, bitch?” I scoff. “Please, you’ll be bored in a matter of seconds.”

He growls against my skin, and I begin pumping my hand up and down his thick, veiny shaft, giving him exactly what he wants as I ride his fingers. His intensity grows, pumping into me faster and harder as I cry out in need. “Fuck me, Marc,” I pant.

His fingers curl at the perfect angle moving against that one spot deep inside me that drives me insane. “No,” he demands, his tone suggesting this is some form of punishment as he hits that spot again, his fingers like the deadliest dark magic moving inside of me.

My hand squeezes at the base of his thick cock. “Fuck me, or one of your brothers will.”

His eyes blaze with startling amounts of need and desire and within seconds, his fingers tear out of my cunt and my pants are down just enough for Marcus to get exactly what he wants as he bends me over, his hand pressing against my back to keep me down.

He slams deep into my cunt, and I cry out, the pleasure rocking through my body and filling me. “Oh, fuck,” I cry, looking back up at Marc to find his eyes already on mine, blazing like molten lava as he groans in deep pleasure. He holds my stare as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them dry before pulling back slowly.

My body shakes, the anticipation building as he holds my hungry stare. “Fuck, Marc. Give it to me.”

He slams into me again and we each groan, both of us needing this more than we could have known. He fucks me hard, fast, and wild, stretching my walls and taking me deep. His fingers fall to my hips, digging painfully into my skin and I cry out for more.

My orgasm builds and builds, getting more intense by the second, and all too soon it’s rocking through me, filling my body with undeniable pleasure, burning every little nerve ending and making me come alive. “MARC,” I cry, reaching up and gripping on to his fingers at my hip.

My pussy clenches around his thick cock, spasming as he takes me harder, refusing to stop as I ride out the high. I pant, struggling to catch my breath as my knees threaten to give out from under me, but he holds me up, slamming deep inside of me, his balls rocking against my clit and sending sharp jolts of electrifying pleasure shooting through my core until finally, he comes hard, spilling his hot seed deep inside of me.

“Fuck, Shayne,” he pants, his fingers loosening on my hips as he slowly moves back and forth, trying to ease my bruised skin. I come up, plastering my back to his wide chest as he remains buried deep in my core. “I don’t know what the fuck it is about seeing you covered in death, but it brings me to my knees every goddamn time.”

Turning my head, I raise my chin and capture his lips in mine. “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” I murmur. “You and your brothers, you’re my home now. I belong to you. If one of you is in trouble, then I’m going to be right there, fighting at your side. Don’t try to silence me like that again, Marc, because this is how it’s going to end every fucking time. Do you hear me?”

He lets out a deep breath, his hand curling around my body and holding me close to his chest. “I hear you, babe. We were wrong to demand you stay behind. We saw that reckless need for blood in Gia’s eyes and she wasn’t going to stop until she had your heart beating in the palm of her hand. I couldn’t see past that. I’m sure Roman has his own reasons for wanting to keep you away from all of this, but where you’re concerned, I can’t see reason.”

His forehead drops to mine, and I breathe him in, my knees shaking beneath me. “I know,” I murmur before awkwardly pulling away from him and fixing my pants around my waist.

Marcus tucks his cock back inside his pants, doing up the fly as I move back into him and capture his lips once more. “Come on,” I whisper, dreading what comes next before indicating to Gia’s body sprawled beneath the heavy frame of the shattered chandelier, her eyes wide and staring straight back at me. “We need to figure out what the hell all of this means for us.”

Marc nods and slips his hand into mine before pulling the lone diamond out of the palm of my hands. “What’s this?” he questions, looking it over, the smear of blood now long gone.

I shake my head while shrugging my shoulders. “Don’t know,” I mutter as he leads me through the wreckage. “It was just sparkling and for some reason, I felt the need to pick it up. I don’t know, consider it the first thing to go up on my trophy shelf.”

His jaw drops and he looks at me as though he’s just seen a ghost. “Nu-uh. You only get a trophy if you were responsible for the death, and as I recall, it was my knife that got lodged in her spine.”

I stare back at him. “No way,” I say, snatching the lonely diamond out of his hand. “That’s bullshit and you know it. My bullet is what dropped the chandelier and crushed her. All you did was paralyze the bitch. Besides, if that were the rule, then by all rights, I should be able to take your cousin’s tongue off your shelf.”

Marcus watches me through a narrowed gaze. “I knew you played dirty, but I didn’t know you were quite so ruthless,” he tells me. “I earned that tongue fair and square.”

“You weren’t even there,” I mutter under my breath as he leads me through to the kitchen where Agent Davidson leans against the counter, a mug of steaming coffee in his hands and a first aid kit spilled out over the expensive granite.

Roman hovers over Levi, whose wounds have been cleaned and bandaged, and digs his fingers into Levi’s shoulder, getting a good feel for the damage as Levi’s face twists with pain. “Fuck, alright,” Levi spits, pulling away from Roman’s poking and prodding. “This ain’t helping shit.”

“Makes me feel better,” Roman mutters under his breath before noticing me and Marcus moving into the room.

All three of them raise their heads, a strange hesitance in their eyes. “What?” I demand, stopping by the entrance, having seen that look more than enough times over the past few months to know it means nothing but bad news. “Spit it out. I haven’t slept in what feels like a lifetime. Let’s just get this over and done with.”

Roman goes to speak when Agent Davidson pushes off the counter and places himself between us, stealing the spotlight. “Congratulations,” he says with a tone that fills me with unease. “You are now the most powerful woman in the country.”

My gaze sweeps to Roman and Levi while gripping tighter onto Marcus’ hand. “Elaborate.”

Roman lets out a heavy breath and looks as though he’s about to take a bath in acid. “Gia’s dead, Empress. You’re her heir.”

I shake my head, knowing what they’re suggesting but not liking it. The whole point of this was because I didn’t want anything to do with her or her empire, and now they’re trying to tell me …

“Say the words,” I beg him, an unknown heaviness settling into my chest. “I need to hear it. I need to know exactly what you’re telling me.”

“Shayne,” Roman says. “You are Gia’s heir. You’re the leader of the Moretti family.”

Marcus scoffs beside me, shaking his head. “Every empire must have its Empress.”

“No, no, no, no,” I say, shaking my head as bile rises in my throat. “This is a sick joke, right? I can’t rule over the Moretti empire. That’s … it’s fucking ridiculous. I’m twenty-two and have connections to you guys. There will be a massive target on my head.”

Levi nods as if already coming to this concussion a million times over. “Yep.”

I begin to pace.

Agent Davidson steps toward me, his eyes softening in a way I never once saw while staying here, and I can’t help but wonder how he feels about all of this. “I can assure you, Shayne, this is certainly no joke. I’ve been undercover here for over six years, and this is about as serious as it’s going to get. You need to be prepared. They are going to make you choose—your family or them.”

“They?” I ask. “Who is they?”

“The Moretti family,” Davidson says. “Just as the DeAngelis family has all of its members, so does the Moretti family. They are just as awful as you can imagine, probably a lot like the extended members of the DeAngelis family. They don’t even know about you yet, and the moment they become aware of Gia’s death, it will turn into a race for her position. She has been holding the reins of this family for far too long, and these men have been terrified of her, but you … you’re just a girl, mixed up with the DeAngelis family who hasn’t had a chance to prove herself. They won’t like you, and they’ll do whatever it takes to knock the crown right off your head.”

I search his eyes, desperate for some way out of this. “Can’t I just … give it to them? Walk away?”

Levi shakes his head, his big, dark eyes coming to mine. “Doesn’t work like that, babe. If my father came to us and said here, I don’t want it anymore. We’d take it from him and put a bullet in his back the second he walked away to ensure he never came back to lay claim over leadership. You’re not any different.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?”

“Do what any one of us would do,” Roman tells me. “Take it by the horns and shoot down anyone who dares to question you.”

“They’re not going to like us together.”

“Fuck them,” Marcus says. “They don’t like it, I’ll let them choose the bullet that gets loaded in my gun.”

My hands shake and I pull out a chair, needing to sit. Hell, the mess Marcus left between my legs doesn’t even bother me right now. I try to go over everything, try to remember the small snippets of information Gia taught me while I was here, but knowing that she had every intention of killing me kind of makes all of that information unreliable. I can’t trust anything I already know.

I’m the motherfucking queen of the Moretti empire.

I’m one of the richest, most powerful women walking the planet, and the second news gets out about this, I’ll also have the biggest target to ever exist on my back.

Shit.

Just another day in the life of Shayne Mariano … Moretti … DeAngelis.

Trying to come to terms with everything, I turn back to Agent Davidson and let him see the very real fear in my eyes. “What’s going to happen from here?”

“In Gia’s office, there is a pre-programmed cell phone. You will need to use that to call an urgent family meeting. Choose a time and date, the sooner the better as you can’t risk news of this getting out before you have a chance to introduce yourself. Family members will ask what the meeting is in regard to, but you must not say anything or give away your identity until they are here in this home.”

I nod, understanding all of that all too clear. “What happens at the meeting?”

“That’s up to you,” he says, raising his gaze to Roman’s. “Might I suggest that you three make yourselves sparse for this meeting. Your presence will not be tolerated.”

“Absolutely not,” Roman says. “Where Shayne goes, we go. They’ll have to drag us out of there.”

“Dragging won’t be your issue. It’ll be the bullet through your head that you’ll struggle with,” Agent Davidson says before shrugging his shoulders, not really giving a shit if the boys were to get hurt. They’ve made their decision, and it’s not up to Agent Davidson to change their minds. He’s given them fair warning and that’s all he needs to live with a clear conscience.

“Okay,” I say, thinking of the few meetings the boys held after running out their father. It can’t be much different than that. I just have to act like I belong until they finally accept it. “I think I can handle it.”

“The meeting isn’t your biggest problem,” Roman adds, making my head snap up as Agent Davidson’s brows furrow in confusion. “You’re legally married to my father,” he reminds me, as if I needed that bucket of cold water dumped over my head. Seeing the irritation in my eyes and clearly wanting me to understand something that I’m simply not getting, he walks across to me, crouching down in front of my seat and gripping my hands. “Your marriage to my father means that if you were to fall, the whole Moretti empire would legally be his. Do you understand what that means? What kind of power he would wield?”

Dread sinks heavily into my veins and all color washes from my face. “Holy shit,” I breathe, the weight of just how serious this is falling onto my shoulder. “I need to get this marriage annulled as soon as possible.”

“Exactly,” he tells me, a grim expression falling over his dark features. “And you need to do it without getting a bullet shot straight between your eyes.”

Well, fuck.

28

The formal dining room is packed with bodies, each of them more powerful than the next. My nerves are shot. I would be fine had this been a normal meeting with Gia not being a crazy psycho bitch and introducing her long-lost daughter to her family, but this is something much different. Plus, they’re already apprehensive due to the stack of bodies they passed by on their way to the door.

I’m not going to lie, the dead guards inside the foyer were nothing compared to the massacre Roman and Marcus created out on the lawn. I mean, daaaaamn. They worked hard. Marcus in particular. It was almost comical looking over the differences in the kills. Roman’s were quick kill shots, easy and less messy, where Marcus was carving initials and decapitating heads left, right, and center. Asshole was probably having the time of his life.

Come to think of it, I should have demanded that he showered before touching me.

Gross.

I stand with Agent Davidson and the boys in the sitting room adjoining the formal dining hall, and I hear them getting rowdier by the minute, wondering what this is all about. Hell, half of them are furious about the call that came through at four in the morning and are demanding answers, but they won’t be making demands from me.

I need to go into this with my head held high, and I need to lay down the law from the beginning, otherwise, they’ll never respect me, never see me as their true leader.

Crap. How are they supposed to see me as their leader when I barely see myself that way? This is going to be a shitshow, especially considering the boys walking in behind me. I need to be honest with the Moretti family about my relationship with the boys, and they’re going to have to learn to accept it, or they can walk. It’s not going to be easy, but I have to hope that the Moretti family is a little more lenient than the DeAngelis assholes the boys have to deal with on a daily basis.

Fuck me in the ass and call me Fred. This is going to be hell.

Agent Davidson pushes off the side of the small armchair. “It’s time,” he tells me, somehow holding his nerves better than anyone considering the fact that his cover has now been blown and he’s about to walk into a room full of powerful criminals, possible rapists, and murderers. His only hope is that word hasn’t spread about his identity, but considering we were the only ones in the room at the time, I doubt it. But who knows what ears could have been listening in, what conversations Gia’s security system caught. “You don’t want to keep these assholes waiting.”

My shoulders bounce with anticipation until Levi presses his hand over them and holds me still. “Professional bitches don’t bounce,” he tells me as his hand slips around to my chin and forces it up. “Chin high, shoulders back, and use that tone you use on Marcus when putting him in his place. They’ll have no fucking idea that you’re riddled with nerves.”

“Easier said than done,” I tell him, certain that he knows the feeling all too well. I move across the room, my eyes tired but my body alive with nerves. “Let’s do this.”

Finding the courage deep inside of me, I push through the big double doors and enter the crowded dining room. Men in expensive suits fill every space, and as I make my entrance known, every single one of their eyes fall to me.

Brows furrow and confusion laces their dark eyes, having expected Gia in her ridiculous heels and tight business dress, but instead, they get a younger, less put together version of her, probably wondering why I seem so familiar.

Their gazes linger on me for barely a breath before taking in the three men at my back. With guns drawn and nasty comments flying, the room erupts into total chaos.

Holding my head high, just as Levi told me, I keep myself moving, and as far as I can tell, the DeAngelis Grim Reapers at my back don’t even flinch under the weight of facing their enemy.

Moving into the space at the head of the table, I keep myself standing and prepare for the worst.

“What is the meaning of this?” an older gentleman spits from my immediate left, while another growls, “What have you done with Gia?”

I hold my hands up as if to silence them, and I’m surprised when they actually oblige. “For a group of men who are supposed to lead the largest mafia family in the world, I am disappointed,” I muse, scanning over each of their faces and trying to decipher who’s the biggest threat in the room. “I believed I was attending a meeting with men who understood the importance of professionalism, yet all I hear are tantrums and outbursts from way down the hall.”

“Who do you think you are?” that same older gentleman demands, his gaze cold and calculated. “You come in here uninvited, wielding the most pitiful of DeAngelis mafia at your back.”

Instead of rising to the bait, I lay my hands down on the table, intrigued by the way their guns slowly begin to fall. “Take your seats, gentleman,” I start. “And then I can explain to you all why you’ve been called here this morning.”

I wait a moment, watching as they all take their seats, their sharp gazes warily flicking between me and the boys, but Agent Davidson’s presence goes a long way in gaining what little trust I can. They’ve known him for many years, watched him thrive at Gia’s side, gain her trust, and become her most important player. If I were some kind of threat to them, he wouldn’t be standing with me … at least, they think.

Chairs scrape against the marble, and after a few short moments, their reluctant gazes turn back to me. “My name is Shayne Moretti, and I am the biological daughter of Gia Moretti.”

Gasps and outrage pour through the room, some men shocked to find that Gia had harbored such a scandalous secret, others immediately assuming I’m lying, while the few closest to me realize that their claim to the top spot just got a little bit harder. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these men are the ones I need to be wary of.

The older gentleman to my right stands, slamming his hand down on the table. “Zeke, is this true? Does this … this woman speak the truth?”

Zeke—or Agent Davidson as I now know him—steps closer to the table, his face a mask of indifference, completely unreadable. “Yes, Alec, this is Gia’s biological daughter. She sent her away as a newborn because she knew the risks of bringing a child into this world,” he says, my birth certificate appearing between his fingers before he places it on the table. He slides it across the polished oak toward Alec. “Gia kept her away as a precaution.”

Alec studies the birth certificate before pushing it aside, letting the other men around him feast their eyes on it. He raises his head, his eyes full of skepticism as he scans over me before flicking straight to my back, his lips pulling up in a disgusted sneer. “So, why the hell would Gia’s sole heir be standing at our meeting table with the DeAngelis brothers at her back? Brothers who are rumored to have perished at their fathers’ hand?”

I hold my hand up, silencing his question. “We’ll get to that, and I’m sure all will be cleared up in a timely manner. However, the reason why I am here holds a greater importance,” I go on, holding his stare for a moment longer before addressing the rest of the table. “In the early hours of this morning, my mother—Gia Moretti—was slaughtered here in her very own home.”

Men fly up out of their chairs, their guns held firmly once again, all eyes going straight to the boys with heavy accusation. Chaos breaks out, and within the blink of an eye, a gun is pressed against my temple as men storm toward the boys.

The boys don’t fight back, just stand there as Moretti men move in on them. I turn toward Alec who stands with his finger on the trigger, his wicked plan for his future flashing in his mind. He can’t kill me, not without confirming my identity. After all, if he pulls the trigger and finds that I am who I say I am, meaning he kills the only true heir to the Moretti empire, he will be hunted out of nothing but sheer loyalty to Gia.

“Why don’t you go ahead and call off your hounds so that I may explain everything that has been going on over the past couple of weeks?” I suggest, raising my brow and not daring to flinch at the cool barrel pressed up against my head. “Or would you prefer to keep making a fool of yourself by showcasing an award-winning tantrum?”

Alec glares at me, not liking me one bit, but ultimately pulls the gun from my head before nodding to the men surrounding Roman, Levi, and Marcus. “We can talk,” Alec spits. “But DeAngelis scum will not be privy to our family meetings. They are unpredictable and not worthy of our trust. They will be held in our cells until further notice.”

The boys tense, their bodies ready for a fight, not in the least pleased with the idea of leaving me here undefended, but there’s no way around this. If I keep them here, the Moretti family won’t hear me, won’t even give me a chance to explain, but if they go, I might just be able to gain their trust.

“Fine,” I say, nodding to the men who surround my boys. “Take them to the cells. However, if any of them are harmed in even the slightest way, I will personally see to it that your lives are not worth living.”

The boys are captured, their arms restrained behind their back. “Shayne,” Roman warns, holding back as the two men at his sides try to force him away. He holds my stare but I nod, letting him know that I’m alright and that I know what I’m doing, but I know he sees the nervousness in my eyes, the fear that this could all go wrong in a matter of seconds.

Roman reluctantly allows them to take him, and my heart shatters at having to send them to yet another cell, but they’ll be okay. The moment this meeting is over, I’ll be straight down there, freeing them from the confines of those four small walls.

With the boys out of the way, I turn my gaze back to Alec and wave my hand out in front of me in a challenge. “Go ahead and take your seat,” I tell him, remaining on my feet to address them.

He reluctantly goes, and I press my hands back to the polished oak table. “Okay, where shall I start?”

“Why not start at the beginning?” Alec suggests, a snide tone to his response.

I nod before looking out at the sea of faces, none of which I can trust. “Very well,” I say, going right back to the beginning. “A little over nine months ago, I was kidnapped out of my city apartment by DeAngelis forces,” I say, skimming over a few of the details that probably won’t bode well for me. “At the time, I was unaware of my lineage, in fact, I had no idea who or what the Moretti family even was, but Giovanni DeAngelis knew who I was. He had somehow discovered that Gia was harboring a daughter and saw that as his way in. He plans on infiltrating the Moretti empire and using me to do so.”

“How?” Alec spit, fury blazing in his eyes.

I hold back my temper, knowing a snide remark isn’t going to get me far right now.

“I am sure you are all aware who those three men at my back were. They are the DeAngelis Grim Reapers, Giovanni’s own sons—Roman, Marcus, and Levi. Giovanni feared his sons so much that he imprisoned them in a castle, and to gain their cooperation, he gifted me to them to hold until he was ready to use me for whatever sick games he had planned. From what you just witnessed, it is clear I have formed a bond with the three DeAngelis brothers who share the same mutual hatred for their father as you do. They have suffered under his hold, as have I.”

I let out a shaky breath before quickly reeling it in, terrified of showing any weakness and having it exploited. Pulling my shoulders back, I continue. “Coming up on three weeks ago, Giovanni brought a battle to his sons’ front door. Many lives were lost that night and resulted in his sons suffering once again. They were stabbed and thrown in cells, left for days as infection began to eat at them—”

“Why should we care about DeAngelis civil affairs?” A man to my right throws out. “That is none of our concern.”

“If it involves me, then you can guarantee it is our concern,” I bite back, hating the feel of the words preparing to come out of my mouth, “especially considering that the week Giovanni’s sons were locked down in those cells, Giovanni forced me into a marriage and then raped me to make it binding.”

Shock rumbles through the room, but I forge on, not willing to linger on the details of that day. “Giovanni plans to use his marriage to me as a way to infiltrate the Moretti empire. He sees this as some kind of gateway. If I were to die while Giovanni is my legal spouse—”

“The family will fall,” Alec murmurs, realizing the severity of the situation.

“Exactly,” I say, my voice lowering. “It is believed that Giovanni’s forces were at action this morning. Gia’s blood is on his hands.”

Murmurs fill the room and I briefly glance at Agent Davidson and catch his eye. He nods as if to tell me that I’m doing a good job before keeping his attention on the table. “Kill them,” someone cries out. “Kill them all.”

I raise my voice again, unsure of the politics and rules I’m supposed to be following, though assuming it would run in a similar way to how the boys went about dealing with their family. “I am unsure how this is supposed to play out,” I admit. “I assume that we are to vote on an appropriate course of action.”

Alec scoffs. “We will vote once we have confirmed your identity. This birth certificate is pitiful at most. I demand full DNA testing.”

“I am more than happy to supply anything that this family sees fit. However, that will take days, and I am not willing to stand around twiddling my thumbs in the meantime while Giovanni goes about his plans to infiltrate this family, and I hope, out of your loyalty to Gia, that you would not feel any different.”

A heavy silence fills the room as all eyes turn to Alec, waiting for his response, but all I get is a sharp glare that makes victory swarm through my chest. Take that, asshole. “Alright, then it’s settled. All in favor of protecting the Moretti empire by eliminating Giovanni DeAngelis, raise your hand.”

It’s unanimous. Every hand in the room silently raises and I nod. “Good,” I say, before feeling a flutter of nerves rushing through me once again. “I feel that I must also inform you that Giovanni has a newborn son. The mother of this child has importance to me, and I made a promise to her that I will not break. I fully intend on taking that child for myself and raising him, whether that be as his mother or simply as a guardian, that is undecided.”

“Will this child become your son for all Moretti purposes, your heir?” Alec questions, watching me through a narrowed gaze.

“No,” I tell him. “It has not yet been discussed but considering that DeAngelis blood runs through his veins and that his older brothers bore no children of their own, he will more than likely become the next DeAngelis heir. However, having said that, you should all be aware that any attack on this child will be seen as a personal attack upon both me and the DeAngelis family, and the full force of both families will come down on those responsible. Is that understood?”

Heads nod around the room, and I finally begin to feel the unease shifting out of my chest, loosening enough to allow me to take a proper breath. “Perfect,” I say, more than ready to dismiss this. “In the meantime, we will work on funeral arrangements for Gia. If anyone knew her on a personal level and would like to offer suggestions on what she might like, I would appreciate that. I will have a pathologist called here within the hour to have my DNA tested on a rush order and confirm it with you as soon as the results come in. Is there anything I am missing?”

“What is to happen to the DeAngelis sons once Giovanni is … dealt with?”

I shrug my shoulders. “That is their business, however I assume that they will rise up in their father’s position just as they always intended. However, with me standing at the head of this family, it is a guarantee that there will no longer be hostility between the families. My relationship with the boys is not going anywhere, nor am I. It is, and forever will be, set in stone. If anyone has any issue with that, then you are welcome to leave.”

Alec stands once again, his stare on me. “You would choose those degenerate murderers over your duty to this family?”

I stare straight back at him, not wavering for a damn second. “If you are asking me if I would choose happiness and love over a lifetime of murder, fear, and betrayal, then you’re absolutely right, I would.”

And with that, I turn on my heel and stalk toward the exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are three men down in our cells who need my attention. You may all be dismissed.”

29

The elevator dings its arrival, and I can barely wait for the door to fully open before I barrel out into the small hallway and step over the three bodies that we’d clearly forgotten to clean up earlier. “HOLY SHIT,” I call, rushing through to the cell to find the three guys slouched against the darkened walls. Levi’s stare is focused heavily on his hands and not the chains that lay in a heap in the center of the room. “I SURVIVED.”

Marcus flies to his feet as Roman’s head snaps toward me, his dark gaze trailing over my body, but Levi just keeps staring at his hands.

I move across the cell, crouching down before him and forcing his eyes to mine. “Come on,” I tell him. “Let’s get out of here.”

His brows furrow as he looks at me with a heavy gaze that seems so far away. He looks as though he’s caught in a world of pain, reliving those awful few days he was chained here, remembering the sting of the whip as it cracked against his chest. I reach down, brushing my fingers over the side of his face, and with a single blink of his eyes, he’s back to the guy I last saw upstairs trying to defend me from their sworn enemies. “Yeah,” he says, taking my hands and allowing me to pull him up, visibly shaken by the thirty minutes down here. “Let’s go.”

We make our way back upstairs, and having nowhere else to go, nowhere that feels safe, we stay put, willing to call this home for now. I give the boys the breakdown of everything that happened during the meeting and breathe a sigh of relief as they confirm that everything I mentioned about the DeAngelis family and their newborn brother was right.

“I think we need to have another meeting with the remaining DeAngelis family members,” Roman mutters, as I lead them through the mega-mansion despite them having already studied the layout like they’ve studied the curves of my body. “They need to be ready, and we need to confirm whose side they’re fighting on.”

I scoff. “Do I need to remind you that every last one of those bastards stood by and watched as your father forced me into a marriage and didn’t do shit about it? They knew exactly what he intended to do to me over the next few hours.”

“Trust me,” Roman says, stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning into me, taking my chin and forcing my stare to meet his. “I haven’t forgotten, and they will all suffer consequences for their actions. But we have priorities, and we can’t burn the few remaining bridges we have until we’re certain we don’t need them anymore.”

I pull my chin out of his soft grip and avert my eyes. I know he’s right and completely agree with his reasoning, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“Whatever,” I mutter like a pissed-off teenager. “But for the record, your grandfather is getting my stiletto heel shoved right up his ass. I really don’t like that guy.”

Marcus stifles a laugh as his gaze sweeps the surrounding rooms, making sure we’re actually alone in here. “Get in line,” he says before indicating deeper into the house with a flick of his chin. “If we’re staying here, I want this place swept twice over.”

Without another word, Roman and Marcus take off around the property, making sure that none of the Moretti family has made themselves at home, hiding under my bed with a knife.

Levi stays with me, not willing to leave my side, and as long as he’s with me, I see no reason not to get him cleaned up. There’s still dried blood matted in his hair and covering his body, and at this point, it’s hard to tell if it’s his from his time down in that cell, or if it’s just the aftermath of killing Gia’s guards in the foyer.

There’s also the untreated bullet wound in his shoulder courtesy of Gia from the night she took him, and while it’s not bad, mainly just a flesh wound, I’d hate for it to get infected and cause him even more pain.

This war between Gia, Giovanni, and us has left the boys with the kinds of scars that no man should have to bear, but it’s coming to a close. I feel it in my blood. Before we know it, we’ll be chilling on a private island, soaking up some rays while the boys fight over who gets to fuck me first. In the end, it’ll probably turn into another epic four-way, but hell, a girl can only dream.

Levi grips on to my hand as I lead him up the stairs to the room I’d used for the week I’d been staying here. The room is alien, too clean, too clinical, and holds absolutely no sense of home. It’s not exactly going to be nice staying here for … hell, I don’t know how long, but it’ll definitely help me with the transition into filling Gia’s role at the top of the Moretti family food chain. In this home, I have exclusive access to all of Gia’s files and the Moretti family with just the touch of a button. Plus, the awesome training room and armory Gia built won’t go astray.

Leading Levi into the private bathroom, I lean into the shower and turn the faucet until hot water is spraying down and steam is beginning to cloud around us. I move into Levi, my hands falling to the bandages over his chest. “Are you okay?” I ask, slowly peeling them off and cringing as the stickiness pulls on his open wounds.

Levi nods as his lips press into a hard line, waiting for me to hurry up and pull the bandages off. A grin stretches across my face, and I can’t help but tease him. “You’ve fought battles, been stabbed, shot, and faced down the worst kinds of people, but a sticky bandage is what’s going to drag you down?”

His hand curls around my waist as I tear the rest of the bandage from his skin and toss it into the basin. “You better watch that mouth, brat.”

A thrill pulses deep in my core, but I push it away. This is hardly the time and place for me to be thinking with my lady boner. Levi’s been through hell. The only thought in my head should be trying to figure out what’s best for him right now.

My fingers brush down his strong body until they fall to the top of his pants and quickly pop the button. He ate while waiting for the Moretti family to turn up, but after three days of hanging from chains and a week down in the playground, I’m not surprised to find his pants slip straight off his narrow hips. He’s lost weight. They all have, but it won’t be long until they’re back to normal, dominating the world and reminding wives, husbands, and children why they rule over their every nightmare.

Levi steps out of his pants and grips the hem of my tank before pulling it up over my head. He tosses it behind us, and it lands somewhere on the ground, but he is my only focus. He keeps one hand on my waist as his other reaches for the waistband of my leggings, but as a grimace crosses his face, I quickly take over, pushing them down over my hips until they fall the rest of the way.

“Come on,” I murmur, taking his hand and leading him into the hot shower. His thumb rubs back and forth over my knuckles as if trying to soothe me, when I should be the one helping him. Always the selfless one. His pain doesn’t matter to him, doesn’t even register in his mind when he thinks someone else might need him more.

God, I love him. He’s just that little bit wrong, just a little bit broken, but that’s what makes him so damn incredible, so strong and everything I have always needed. Even through the suffering and pain, he never gave up hope for something better, never gave himself over to the darkness.

Water cascades over both of us, and his eyes close, letting the pain wash away. I take a washcloth and soap it up before gently pressing it to his tanned skin. My eyes linger on his strong, sculpted body, gazing over his tattoos and scars, washing away every drop of blood and reminder of the torture he’s suffered over the past few weeks.

He deserves so much more. He deserves to be worshipped and exalted. He and his brothers are kings in my eyes, and despite society’s views on them, they will always be held in the highest regard to me. I don’t know what I would have done had I lost any of them. My heart still pounds with agony at the thought of almost losing Marcus.

But I didn’t feel a damn thing when I ended Gia’s life … what does that make me?

Shit.

Levi’s fingers tighten on my waist as his other hand comes to my chin, softly raising my head until he finds my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

A moment passes before I take a breath and let the words I fear fly free. “Am I a bad person?” I ask him. “Before finding you guys, the thought of ending someone’s life would have made me sick. If I knew all of that was my future, I would have ended my own life. But nine months down the track, I’ve never been happier. Countless men have perished by my hand, and I don’t feel anything for them. I know that months down the track, I wouldn’t have given it another thought. Then Gia … I didn’t even flinch. This is the woman who gave me life and I didn’t even care—still don’t care.”

He shakes his head as my hand pauses on his arm, the suds slowly trailing down over his toned muscles. “You’re not a bad person, Shayne. You’re just a different one than you used to be. You need to remember that you have seen and experienced things that normal people simply aren’t witness to. They could go lifetimes before encountering the type of callous slaughter you’ll become accustomed to. You’ve adjusted and because of that, you’ve built a shield around your heart, holding off anyone who doesn’t belong and not allowing them the ability to hurt you.” He pauses a moment, a smile pulling at his lips. “It’s ironic. You’ve had to learn how to keep people out, where me and my brothers have had to learn how to let you in.”

I move into him, and he curls his hand around the back of my neck before pulling me against his chest. I gasp, not wanting to touch the angry welts scarring his skin, but he holds me to him, nonetheless. A silent moment passes between us where we just stand in each other’s arms, slowly taking deep breaths and coming to terms with everything that has happened. “I hate that you’re hurting,” I tell him, devastation swelling in my chest.

“And that right there is why you could never be a bad person,” he tells me. “You’ve got the biggest heart I’ve ever known. You’re strong and fearless, and the perfect balance for me and my brothers. You’re going to thrive as the leader of the Moretti family. You’re going to be the most powerful woman on earth, but we already knew that.”

A smile pulls at my lips as I move back and meet his gorgeous eyes, sparkling in the dim light of the bathroom. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” he says, his grin pulling even wider. “You screamed out for the whole world to hear. Kinda hard to ignore that one.” I narrow my eyes and a soft laugh rumbles through his chest. “I fucking love you too, little one, even despite your many flaws.”

“Flaws?” I laugh. “Pray tell, what are these horrendous flaws that have so disgustingly caught your attention?”

“Simple,” he tells me, gripping my waist and pulling me back in, leaning down until his lips are hovering just over mine. “You’re a brat. You don’t know how to just sit still and do what you’re told, and for fuck’s sake, how hard is it for you to just get through one day without making me want to see my handprint across that perfect ass?”

His cock stiffens between us, and I raise a brow, glancing up at him as heat floods my core. My eyes darken with desire, and I let him see the overwhelming need beginning to cause havoc on my body. “You’ll have to forgive me, Daddy,” I purr, watching his eyes widen with a ferocious hunger. “I didn’t realize all my flaws were bothering you so much. How will I ever make it up to you?”

A deep growl tears through his chest, and it speaks right to the vixen living inside of me. I’ve never been one for the whole daddy kink, but I teased it with him once before and his eyes lit up like the fourth of July, just like they are right now, and if this is what he wants, then that’s exactly what he’ll get.

His jaw ticks as a deadly seriousness comes over him, making my heart race even faster. “Get on your knees,” he spits, gripping his rock-hard cock in his tight fist.

Despite how badly I want to do just that, the need to push him flutters through my chest, testing these new limits and figuring out where our boundaries lie. “And if I say no?”

Fire flares through his eyes, and just seeing how hot this gets him has me so turned on, I’m practically salivating at the thought of his heavy cock in my mouth, but it’s nothing compared to the rush and throbbing between my legs. God, I need him to touch me.

His hand curls around my body, slowly trailing down to my ass. He squeezes tight, and just as I groan and push back against his hand wanting more, he releases me and comes down in a sharp stinging spank. I gasp, my eyes widening as his gaze blazes like molten lava.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe, panting for more, the shock and desire in my eyes matching the coursing need shining through his.

“Knees,” he says, the word filled with authority, telling me that he won’t tolerate any more resistance.

Without uttering a single word, I drop to my knees, his veiny, thick cock right in front of my face. Oh, fuck, I need to taste him, need to drive him wild with need, need to show him just how good it can really be and exactly what he’s been missing over the past few weeks.

This whole daddy thing could really work for me. I wonder how Roman and Marcus would feel about this. All three of them making demands like the fucking devils they are.

Oh, God. My pussy clenches at the delicious thought.

Too hungry to waste another second, my tongue rolls over my lips before I open my mouth and lean in. He releases his cock, and it bounces heavily in front of me, the tip brushing against my wet lips. I take him in my hand while looking up at those dark, heated eyes and slowly close my mouth over him.

Pleasure washes over his face, and it’s already worth every last second even though I’ve barely moved. Wanting so much more, I begin moving up and down his thick cock, having to keep my hand around his base, pumping up and down and matching my rhythm.

My tongue rolls over his tip, and I groan, tasting that small bead of moisture that makes hunger flare within me. I need to have more, need to take everything he’s willing to give.

Levi’s hand curls into my hair, moving me up and down and forcing me deeper onto his cock until I feel him in the back of my throat. My pussy aches, my walls clenching around sweet nothing, desperate to be filled and stretched until I can’t possibly take anymore.

My tongue works over his tip and down his shaft as I reach lower and cup his balls, giving a firm squeeze just the way he likes it. “Fuck, Shayne,” he moans, his hand tightening in my hair. “Show me what you can do.”

Damn, he knows how much I like a challenge.

I rise to the fucking bait and give him exactly what he needs and more, his low growls and grunts spurring me on. Up, down, cup, and squeeze. It’s intoxicating, but nothing gets me wetter than his hand tightening around my hair and his body clenching.

I grin against his cock like a hungry fucking lion and wait to be served, then just as I knew he would, he gives me exactly what I’ve been waiting for and pours hot spurts of cum down my throat. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, the sound like music to my ears.

Not wasting a damn drop, I swallow him down and look up to find his eyes filled with awe, already locked on mine. I slowly release him but refuse to uncurl my fingers from the base of his cock—because why the hell not. “Good girl,” he breathes, and damn the thrill that shoots through me and sails down to my needy cunt is so much more than I could have imagined.

Levi reaches down and grips my chin between his strong fingers, drawing me up to my feet and keeping his deadly stare locked on my heated gaze. “Tell me what you want.”

My voice comes out like a breathy whisper, and I’m shocked. Every other time I’ve told him what I wanted, I’ve been more than vocal about it. “I want you to fill my pussy and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a cocky smirk, and for a moment, I forget about everything, forget the reason why we’re even in this shower to begin with. Nothing else matters. “Oh, I will, my little devil. I’m going to fuck you until you’re raw,” he tells me, his tone deep and filled with a low growl. “But not before I’ve tasted your cum on my tongue and felt you come undone around my fingers.”

Oh, dear God.

My breath catches in my throat as my stomach clenches, burning with a fiery desire so intense that I know I'm not going to be able to handle it, but hell, I’m down for absolutely anything this beast of a man is willing to put down.

His hand presses back behind him and shuts off the water before both his hands are on my ass, lifting me into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist, and before he’s even stepped out of the shower, his lips are crushing down on mine.

Levi kisses me deeply as he walks out to the main room and drops my ass right into the armchair in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. The cool air brushes against my skin and my nipples instantly harden, which only has that hunger in his eyes intensifying.

He’s going to tear me apart, and it’s going to be the best thing I’ve ever endured.

Levi drops to his knees, his gaze roaming over my body as though he has no idea where he wants to start until his deep voice fills the silent room. “Spread them.”

Oh, God.

My knees part, and I watch the way his gaze travels down to my pussy, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip, more than ready to devour me. “Wider, Shayne,” he orders. “I want to see everything.”

A thrill fires through me, and I scoot down in the armchair, giving me space to widen my legs as far as they’ll go. As I feel a cool breeze against my most intimate parts, I know I’m as exposed as humanly possible and that he’s getting absolutely everything he’s asking for and more.

Levi groans and the sound sets me on fire, but not as much as the feel of his fingers pressing to my clit and slowly trailing down and mixing with my wetness. He gets to my core and watches closely as he pushes two thick fingers inside of me.

He draws them back out, and his eyes blaze as he takes them in, seeing how they’re coated in my arousal. He pushes up on his knees, indicating for me to meet him in the middle, and I do just that before he guides his fingers into my mouth. I suck them dry and before I even get a chance to swallow, his mouth is on mine, his tongue diving in and sharing the taste.

He doesn’t release the kiss as his fingers push back inside of me, and I gasp into his mouth, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as the pleasure rocks through me like a powerful storm.

“Oh, fuck, Levi,” I groan into his kiss before he slowly pulls back and lowers down, always wanting to have that up-close-and-personal view of his most prized work.

I fall back into my chair, my hands roaming over my body as every nerve ending comes alive, but damn it, if he doesn’t—

“OH, FUCK,” I groan, throwing my head back as his warm mouth closes over my clit, his tongue flicking the tight bud with skilled precision.

I reach forward and knot my hands into his hair, holding him right there as he starts to work me, his fingers moving in and out, his tongue circling as he sucks and sends me into a world of sweet bliss. I groan and gasp, unable to keep myself still. His fingers stroke over my G-spot, moving back and forth, and my pussy clenches around them, desperate for the release that’s quickly building.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

It doesn’t get better than this.

His tongue flicks over my clit one more time, and I come undone in a fit of explosive pleasure that rocks through my body, coursing through my veins like an electric current, soaring to all my most sensitive spots. My toes curl and my eyes clench, throwing my head back in irrevocable pleasure.

But he doesn’t dare stop. His fingers keep moving, his tongue still working as I ride out my high while my walls spasm around him.

Holy hell. Why have I been holding out on this? Well … I know exactly why and for a damn good reason, but daaaaaamn. I knew he’d take care of me, never make me feel the way that he who shall not be named made me feel while his son’s mouth is still enclosed around my clit.

When I finally come down from my high, his eyes are sparkling and he pulls back, releasing me from his intense touch and giving me a chance to breathe. I sit up in the armchair, my body utterly spent but still craving that fullness of his thick cock, especially after he made me a promise to fuck me until I was raw.

My eyes linger on his but movement down low catches my attention, and I find him rock hard once again, his cock held firmly in his grasp. He goes to make a move and I shake my head. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” I tell him, moving off the armchair and lowering myself on top of him, slowly dropping down over his cock and feeling that delicious intrusion as he stretches my walls, his breathy groan in my ear. Once I’m fully seated over him, I clench around him, loving just how deep he gets. “I’m running this show.”

And without a second thought, I ride his cock like a fucking cowgirl giving it her all.

30

We pull up outside the DeAngelis mansion at precisely two in the afternoon, and up until now, I thought I was going to be fine. Hell, I might have even been a little too cocky about being able to face my demons, but now that the Escalade is pulling to a stop, the very real possibility that Giovanni could be inside is seriously fucking with my head. I’m crumbling like a little bitch.

Expensive cars are littered around the circular driveway, and I don’t see a body in sight. The meeting was called for one o’clock, so I suppose we’re a little bit late, but who can fault us? It’s been a rough twenty-four hours.

The boys take their time getting out of the car, and a smirk settles over my face at how they simply don’t give a shit. If their disloyal family members have to wait, then so be it. It doesn’t mean anything to them, but I want it known for the record that if they ever pull this shit with me, it’s their balls on the line.

Letting out a shaky breath, I fall in line with the boys, the four of us moving toward the mansion like a force to be reckoned with. Only the closer we get, the more I start to fall behind.

The steps leading to the front door feel as though I’m walking up the steepest mountain, each step weighing me down, but I push on, knowing the boys would never allow that to happen again. Hell, the likelihood of him being here … my husband. Gag. The mere thought of being connected to him like that makes me want to hurl.

Roman slams through the front doors and I grin as the heavy oak crashes against the marble tiled walls, a resounding BANG echoing through the whole mansion. I mean, when the boys make an entrance, they really make an entrance. I know that all too well. They’re particularly good at walking into a room and making a woman believe she’s about to live through the most excruciating moments of her life.

Ahh, sweet memories.

We barely get through the door when the crammed bodies in the foyer turn our way, their eyes wide and their jaws slackening in shock, quickly realizing that the great battle from two weeks ago didn’t claim their lives, just as Giovanni had them all believe.

I resist the urge to shout ‘SURPRISE’ and simply follow the boys as they make their way through the foyer, a clear path forming before them. Roman pauses by the door and turns to a much younger version of him, a kid who’s maybe in his late teens, probably one of the many cousins or second cousins—it’s too hard to tell. “I want the whole property swept for my father. Take Trevor and Julio and make it quick. I want a full report in five minutes.”

The kid nods and immediately turns on his heel, stalking away, his fingers already curled around the grip of his gun, and despite him being just a kid, a sense of safety comes over me, and I find it easier to put one foot in front of the other.

We stride in through the big doors of the formal meeting room, and I’m not surprised to find the boys’ grandfather sitting right at the head of the table, just as he’d been last time.

Marcus scoffs, not in the mood for his grandfather’s bullshit, and rather than making a big scene and dealing with the back-and-forth insults and death glares, Marcus simply pulls his gun and holds it to his grandfather’s head. “Don’t try me today, pops. I’m not in the mood.”

A hint of fear flashes through the old man’s eyes and as he glares at Marcus and sees just how ready he is to pull the trigger, he scoops his tumbler of whiskey off the table, throws back what’s left, and slowly pushes the chair back. He moves around to the side of the table, taking the space reserved for the second in command—who apparently is still me, but I’m not about to fight him for it. Besides, there’s no way in hell I’m about to step away from their side to join the rest of them, especially with the idea of Giovanni on the loose.

Any one of the assholes about to join us in the meeting room would no doubt like to get their hands on me, only to offer me up to Giovanni in return for immunity … or at least, the short-lived safety that he would offer them, something he won’t be able to come through on anyway.

The rest of the family follows us into the meeting room, quickly taking their places at the table while keeping their curious stares on the boys. It hasn’t been that long since the last meeting, and I feel as though I barely recognize a single face. Though, I suppose that happens when the boys tend to slaughter anyone who dares stand against them. Hazard of the job, I suppose.

“Thank you for coming,” Roman starts, taking the lead as usual.

“What is this about?” the boys’ grandfather questions, his empty tumbler resting in the palm of his hand. “You have kept us waiting for an hour. Do you assume that you can click your fingers and we will fall to our knees?”

Levi shoots a sharp glare at his grandfather. “That’s exactly what we expect,” he states. “The moment this family pledged their loyalty to us, your time became ours. Do you need me to remind you of your place, old man? After the hell I’ve been through just to make it here today, I wouldn’t mind making an example of you.”

Roman watches the exchange before slowly turning his attention back to the table, making it known that his grandfather’s questions are not worth his time. “We did not intend to keep you waiting,” Roman says. “However, there are a few things that require our immediate attention.”

Soft murmurs rumble through the room and it takes only one venomous glare from Marcus to shut them all up. Roman continues. “Those of you who were in attendance at my father’s wedding three weeks ago, please stand.”

As one, every last man at the table stands and their eyes go wide, already knowing where this is going. Roman goes to say something when the young look-alike and two others walk into the room and meet Roman’s heavy stare. “It’s clean,” one of the other dudes says with a sharp nod before falling into their place around the table.

Roman waits until they’re comfortable and quiet before going on. “Those of you who attempted to put a stop to the wedding, take your seat.”

Terror rips across the table, the tension in the room thickening until it’s nearly impossible to breathe. “Roman,” a guy to his left says, a few seats down. “You must understand, we thought you were dead. We were left with no choice, and Giovanni insisted that your girl was a Moretti.”

All three of the boys watch the man, but it’s Marcus who speaks up. “So, what you’re telling me, Frances, is that if I came into your home in the middle of the night and slit your throat, you’d be okay with me taking your wife as my own?”

Frances doesn’t respond, but the fear in his eyes makes his thoughts on the question well known. Marcus winks. “Nothing to say?” he questions. “You’re either a loyal servant, willing to give up your most beloved treasure for the head of this family, or you’re just fucking stupid. Which is it?”

Frances averts his eyes, his stare heavy on the big table. “You’re right,” he murmurs. “I apologize. I’m fucking stupid.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Roman grows tired of Marcus’ line of questioning and continues with his inquisition. “Those of you who even questioned my father of his intentions, take your seat.”

Three men take their seats, one of them being Roman’s younger look-alike, making me wonder if I should like the guy. After all, if he had the balls to question Giovanni on his intentions at such a young age, then he’s already proving that he’s going to be a force to be reckoned with. Given the years and experience, I’m sure he’ll dominate in this world.

Roman nods, not liking what he’s seeing. “Final question,” he states. “Those of you who stood by your vow of loyalty to me and my brothers and even considered saving the woman we love, take your seats.”

One more man takes his seat, and Roman lets out a heavy breath, disappointed in the lack of fight shown by his family. “I’m sure that you are all aware of the repercussions that will follow. Whether you thought my brothers and I had perished at our father’s hand or not, no bodies had been found, no confirmation of death was made. At that point, your loyalty still belonged to us, and we consider your failure to save Shayne from the clutches of Giovanni DeAngelis a direct betrayal.”

I can practically hear every heart beginning to race through the room, see the sweat coating their foreheads while hands flinch at their sides, ready to lunge for their guns if that’s what it comes down to. “Take your seats,” Roman says.

They all slowly do as they’ve been asked like a bunch of delinquent kids in the principal’s office. Nervous glances fill the room, terrified stares searching out others who feel that same sense of impending doom. They fucked up and they know it. But just to add that extra punch to the unspoken threat, Marcus and Levi begin making their way around the table, walking slowly behind their backs. Men flinch as they pass, knowing they could end them with their bare hands in a matter of seconds.

I hide my smirk and try to appear as the badass I want to be. It’s not exactly going to help my case if I’m caught grinning like a fox in the hen house.

“Why would your father claim that she is a Moretti then? Why should we believe anything different?”

Roman scoffs and discreetly takes my hand, out of sight from the prying eyes in the room. “When did I give you reason to believe otherwise?” he questions. “Shayne is a Moretti. My father was right. But she is not just any Moretti, she is the Moretti.”

Confused murmurs flow through the room as sharp eyes come to me, each of them filled with ugly promises and silent vows to end my life. “Four nights ago, Gia Moretti attacked our home. She got away with Levi and spent the next three days torturing him.”

Their grandfather slams his hand down on the table, the glass tumbler cracking with the force. “Why are we only just hearing of this now?”

“Because it was not necessary for you to know until now,” Roman throws back at him, irritated by his interruption. “Last night, we infiltrated Gia Moretti’s private residence and got Levi out of there. It wasn’t easy. She anticipated our arrival and had guards lying in wait. She drew us out just as she intended to do, but she was not prepared as well as she should have been. In the early hours of the morning, Shayne Moretti, this woman standing right beside me, the woman whom not one of you deemed worthy enough to save from my father’s clutches, slaughtered our greatest enemy with nothing but a flick of her wrist.”

“What?” the boys’ grandfather says, standing and gaping at me. “Gia Moretti is dead?”

I step forward, releasing Roman’s hand. “Yes. I ended her life, just as simply as I will end yours if you continue to doubt me and your grandsons.”

He swallows hard. “The Moretti empire has fallen,” he comments, almost in awe. “Who will rise in her place? She has no known heirs.”

“Think about it, grandfather,” Marcus says from across the room. “Why else would my father have such an interest in forcing a marriage to Shayne?”

All heads whip toward me again, and I raise my chin, knowing this can either go one of two ways. “My name is Shayne Moretti, and I am the only living heir of Gia Moretti. I am the new ruler of the Moretti empire.”

It’s a fucking uproar. Men throw themselves to their feet as Levi circles back around and moves in behind me, his hands at my hips. “Just give them a moment,” he murmurs. “They just need a moment to feel like their opinions matter.”

I nod, resting back into him as I watch Roman silently take his gun from the waistband of his pants and lay it carefully on the table before him, and just like that, silence follows. He leans onto the table, not even bothering to hold the gun, its presence is enough of a threat. The men in this room know just how fast he is and just how lethal he can be. “From this moment forward, I declare that the Moretti family is no longer our enemy. Any move against them is a direct move against myself and my brothers.”

A scoff comes from the far end of the table. “So, all of a sudden, you meet a bitch with a magical pussy and you forget what really matters? Where’s your fucking loyalty? The Morettis have been our enemies for over a century and you expect us to just fall in line because you’re banging their new leader?”

The gun snaps out, a bullet firing through the room, and just like that, the voice is silenced. “Anybody else have an issue with us finding peace with the Morettis?”

Silence. Pure fucking silence.

“Good, now that brings us to the matter of our father—”

“STOP,” a sharp cry sounds through the room as a woman comes storming in, Phillip DeAngelis standing at her back. Her eyes are red and she looks as though her world has been torn out from under her. “IT WAS ALL THEM, RIGHT FROM THE BEGINNING. THEY PLANNED IT ALL. ALL THE MURDERS.”

The boys’ grandfather gets to his feet, anger staining his features. “What is the meaning of this?” he spits, glaring at his son across the room. “Not only are you late to our family meeting, you bring your wife? Do you have no respect for our laws?”

The woman strides deeper into the room, every eye on her as Phillip remains hovering behind her like a scared little bitch. “I don’t give a shit about your family rules. Your stupid family has destroyed my life, ruled over every last second of it, and now I’ve lost my children because of this goddamn war. A war that was created by those … those three monsters,” she spits, pointing toward Roman and Levi. “I want them held accountable. I WANT THEIR HEADS.”

Roman glances toward the little-Roman-look-alike and with nothing but a simple nod, he, Trevor, and Julio stand and make their way toward the woman. She instantly begins to back up, seeing the threat for what it is, all while Phillip just stands there, not even bothering to defend his wife. That spineless piece of shit. I knew we should have killed him when we had the chance, but the boys just had to go show him mercy.

Stupid boys. He should have died, especially after what he did to Ariana. If this were the Moretti family and I had the final call, a bullet between the eyes would have been the only acceptable response. I won’t tolerate that kind of bullshit, not under my roof. Things are going to change and I don’t doubt that there will be a few ruffled feathers because of it … but that’s for another day to worry about. Right now, I want to know why the hell this crazy ass bitch is accusing my men of having anything to do with her daughters.

The three stooges grab the woman and force her forward, pushing her down to her knees as they hold her arms. Roman moves around the table, watching her through narrowed eyes as the men at the table watch with curious stares.

“Because I am feeling generous, I am going to give you a chance to explain yourself before deciding how hard I will come down on you.”

“You murdered Antonio, you and your spineless brothers. You killed him and led everyone to believe that Ronaldo had done it because of his relationship with his wife.” Gasps sound throughout the room, but she’s not even close to finished. “You orchestrated it all. You knew that Victor was going to go after Ronaldo, but you didn’t care. You let him slaughter an innocent man, all for what? For the two seconds standing at the top? You’re pathetic, all three of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Have you had enough?” Roman questions, his tone full of boredom.

“Please,” she scoffs. “Why don’t you tell them all how you killed Victor in his home and burned it down? Or how about the way you slaughtered Louis right here outside these very walls. You annihilated every major player and kept the rest busy while you swept in and stole the leadership for yourselves.”

Their grandfather stands, rage pouring over his features. “Did you murder my sons?” he demands, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

Roman shrugs it off, his face twisting with irritation as he looks back at the woman on her knees. “I don’t know where the fuck you’re getting your information, but unless you’ve been living in a cave, you would be well aware that my father had my brothers and I held as prisoners in our castle home. When Antonio was slaughtered, may he rest in peace, we were trapped within the very solid walls of that castle.”

The grandfather scoffs and mutters something under his breath about the boys being more than capable of escaping the confines of their prison, while the woman shakes her head, her eyes going wide with uncertainty, wide with the fear of believing that she just accused the DeAngelis Grim Reapers of something they didn’t do. “No,” she says in a fluster. “He told me. He said it was you three all along.”

“Who said?” Levi spits. “My father?”

“Yes,” she cries. “He told us to come here, to tell them all the truth. He wants them to turn on you, to believe how truly vile you all are. He took my girls. Please. He’s going to kill them if they don’t believe me.”

Roman’s back stiffens, his eyes narrowing on the woman. “When did he take them?”

“In the early hours of this morning,” she says. “Please, they’re just babies. Innocent children.”

Heavy sobs tear from her throat, and Roman indicates to his little followers to release her, allowing her to crumble into a ball at his feet as she cries. He raises his head to Phillip who still hovers by the door, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular and looking as though he’s about to lose it all. “How could you let him take your children?” Roman spits, anger burning in his features. “Are you that starved for his approval, you’d give up everything that matters? You saw how he treated me and my brothers when we were younger, before he learned to fear us. They’re young girls. Do you know what will become of them in his hands, what he will use them for?”

Phillip’s face turns green, and I watch in horror as he turns and doubles over, gripping on to a large vase and hurling until he falls to his knees.

Roman turns and meets Marcus’ stare from across the room before turning to Levi, the three of them doing that fucked-up silent conversation shit that I’ve always wanted to decode. Hell, if I could, it’d make my life a shitload easier.

Roman looks back at Phillip. “If we do this, you disappear. You take your family and you forget the DeAngelis name. You turn your back on everything you’ve ever known. Take your wife’s maiden name and leave. Return here again, even to check in, and we will see you punished appropriately for your acts against Ariana. Is that clear?”

Phillip nods, swallowing hard. “Anything.”

A moment of silence passes, the only noise coming from the weeping mother on the ground. “Okay,” Roman finally says, turning back toward the men gathered around the table. “Every single man who sits around this table is guilty of betraying our trust for your spineless actions during my father’s wedding to Shayne Moretti. Do not be fooled, guilty men suffer gruesome consequences, but I am offering you the chance to earn back my trust.”

Backs stiffen around the room, eyes wide with fear, unsure what Roman is asking of them. I doubt these boys have ever asked their family for anything in their lives, but to stand here and ask for help, it’s gonna be one hell of a big request.

“From this point on, Giovanni’s newborn son will be seen as my own. That child is mine to raise, and I will do so in my own image. Right now, my son is held captive at his hands along with Phillip’s two daughters, and we are going to get them back. The DeAngelis army will rise again. However, we do not hold the necessary equipment to track him. At least, not fast enough.”

“What are you suggesting?” the man who spoke earlier questions.

“The Moretti’s have the technology that we need. I put forward that we unite our forces, for just this one mission to get children back where they belong and to put Giovanni in the ground where he belongs.”

And just like that, the room turns into a fucking warzone.

31

Marcus stands by my side, rolling his eyes as the masses pour out of the room. There was an hour of arguing until the boys finally put their foot down and made it a little more obvious that uniting our people for this mission wasn’t so much of a suggestion and more like a hostile demand.

Those that refused will face the boys in person, and that one little threat held the weight of the world. But what it all comes down to is my ability to do the same with the Moretti family. They already don’t like me, and now I have to stand before them and suggest working side-by-side with the family who has been responsible for raining hell over their world countless times.

Great. Sounds like fun.

Levi walks with an older gentleman, showing him out as Marcus mumbles something about checking on something in his bedroom upstairs. I watch him step away from me and stride to the door, my brows furrowed in concern. “What could he possibly need from his room?” I question, turning to look at Roman.

He shakes his head, laughter sparkling in his obsidian eyes. “His bed,” he mutters as though it’s an obvious answer, one I should have been able to figure out on my own.

“He’s sleeping?” I ask, my brows rising with interest as the exhaustion of the past few days creeps up on me even more than it already has. “Well, shit. I might just join him.”

Moving toward the door, I’m pulled back with a hand on my wrist. “Shayne, wait,” Roman says, drawing me back. I turn and meet his stare to find a hint of nervousness swimming deep in those dark eyes. He glances away, his lips pressing into a cringe. “I um … I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

My brows furrow and I move closer, searching his stare for even the tiniest hint of what this could be about. “What’s up?” I ask, my hand falling to his chest.

Roman takes my waist, the nerves only seeming to get stronger. “Come on.” He leads me toward the big table before lifting me up and placing me onto it. He hovers between my knees, his hands resting on my thighs as I patiently wait for him to figure out how to word whatever it is he needs to say.

His lips press into a hard line before taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. He meets my waiting stare. “Have I ever told you that Roman isn’t my first name?”

“Uuuuhhhhhmmmmm …. no?” I say, my confusion coming out as a question, not understanding what could possibly have him acting like this, especially considering he’s opening with a line like that. “What’s this about?”

His shoulders pull back as if finding the nerve to be strong and face his demons. “My full name is Giovanni Roman DeAngelis the second,” he tells me, watching as my brows shoot up in surprise, my body unintentionally flinching at the sound of that name, bringing back memories I don’t care to think about. “Ever since I was a kid, I rejected my name and went by Roman instead. I didn’t want to be associated with him like that because … well, I think you can figure that out.”

“Okaaaay,” I say slowly, narrowing my eyes. “I think I’m missing some vital pieces of information here.” A small smile cracks across Roman’s face. “Alright,” he says. “I’m just going to come right out and say it.” I wait patiently, my eyebrow slowly rising in anticipation. “The name on your wedding certificate, the name on the license and all the paperwork is ‘Giovanni Roman DeAngelis.’ What I’m getting at is … what if there happened to be some way to change the paperwork to add ‘the second’?”

My brows furrow, watching him closely as the pieces finally begin to fall into place. “Then … I’d be married to you. Not your father.”

He nods, watching me warily, waiting for the moment I either laugh in his face or tell him there’s no way in hell I’d want that, but I don’t dare because the idea of severing that connection to his father means the whole fucking world to me. “What do you think?” he asks after a moment, my silence probably sending him into an anxiety induced coma.

“I … can you even do that?”

He shrugs his shoulders again. “Fucked if I know. It’s not like I’ve ever had to manipulate marriage documents before, but I’m sure where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“But then we’d be married …”

I let the thought linger in the air, positive that this isn’t what he really wants. Now, if it had been Marcus standing before me asking to do this massive thing, then I’d believe it, but Roman … I don’t know if he understands what he’s really getting himself into.

The silence gets heavier, and I watch him as he watches me. That nervous energy begins to cloud his stare once again, and when he shakes his head and looks away, I know he’s preparing to shut this down. Gripping his chin, I force him to deal with this right here, right now, just as he would do if the positions were turned. “Why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself? You don’t need to be nervous about this.”

An incredulous expression rips across his face and he laughs before leaning into me, pressing his hands on the table on either side of my thighs. “There are so many fucking reasons to be wary of what I’m asking you.”

“Oh, yeah?” I challenge. “Like what?”

“Where do I even start?” he says, before hitting me with the list that he’s no doubt been torturing himself with since this little idea fell into his calloused hands. “First up, I’m a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. I’m on every single most-wanted list in the country, and you … you’re innocence wrapped up in a pretty bow. I don’t want to be the reason that you get dragged down, plus, we both know you deserve a man whose reputation alone isn’t going to place a target on your back. Second, I don’t fucking deserve this. Do I want to be married to you? Hell fucking yes, but I think Marcus needs this more. Levi probably wouldn’t give a shit. He’s not sentimental like that, so as long as nothing changes between you two and your relationship, then he wouldn’t care, but Marcus would see this as me taking something from him, a betrayal of the worst kind, and I’m not sure that I could do that to him … but for you, I fucking would.”

My fingers caress the side of his face, beginning to feel the weight of what he’s asking me, what it would really mean. “Roman,” I start before getting cut off again.

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t give me whatever bullshit you were about to spew. You and I both know that after Felicity, the idea of getting married isn’t something I’d have considered again, especially considering our … unique relationship. But Marcus sure as fuck would. He’d give you the greatest fucking proposal a girl could want, he’d get you the ring and be down on one knee. He’d make you feel like a goddamn princess. And this … this right here, this would crush him, and the fact that I’m even asking you is going to be a slap in the face to him.

“Not to mention,” he goes on, “at some point, my father is going to die, and you’re going to be free of that marriage anyway.”

“But I’ll forever hold the title of being Giovanni’s widow. I don’t want to be connected to him in any little way, even in death.”

“Exactly,” he says. “So, you have a choice to make. I can fuck with that paperwork and you can officially call me your husband, or we can walk out this door and never speak of it again.”

My heart races. A year ago, the thought of being married to one of the DeAngelis brothers would have scared the crap out of me … well, if I’m being completely honest, the thought of being married to anyone scares me. I’m only twenty-two, not nearly ready for such a big step in my life, but what choice have I been left with? Remain married to Giovanni, or become Roman’s wife?

There is no fucking choice.

My fingers drop to the waistband of his pants and I pull him in closer. “You really want to be married to me, Roman DeAngelis?”

“I’d burn in hell for eternity at just the mere shot of being able to call you my wife.”

A bundle of nerves settles deep in my stomach and quickly begins to grow before turning into fully grown butterflies wreaking havoc over my gut. “I mean, you know I can be a bitch first thing in the morning, right? And I don’t take demands very well, plus I’m sleeping with your brothers so I can’t guarantee that it’s your bed I’ll be in every night. Are you sure that’s what you really want in a wife?”

Roman takes my chin, raising it up until our lips are barely a breath apart. “You’re everything that I want,” he whispers. “You make me feel whole again, and just being near you reminds me that I have something to live for. All the suffering and pain from my past doesn’t matter when I’m with you, Shayne Moretti. You are my fucking ride or die, whether we’re hitched or not.”

I nod and lean in that little bit more, brushing my lips over his in a gentle kiss. “And the baby?” I ask him, pulling back to meet his eyes. “At the end of that meeting you said you were going to raise him as your own. I love you, and I know I already have a soft spot for that baby, but I don’t think I’m going to make a very good mother.”

“I’m not asking you to be his mother. Whatever role you want to play in his life is perfectly fine by me, but you and I both know that once he comes home and you’re holding him in your arms, knowing there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect him, you’re going to slip into that role because that’s just who you are.”

My eyes widen with fear. Be his mom? Holy crap. I can’t be responsible for screwing up another human being, I can barely manage myself. Shit, I’ve been kidnapped at least five times over the past year. Surely Roman doesn’t see me as a good role model for his child. “Are you sure?”

Roman nods. “I see it in the way you adopted Dill and Doe. You’ve become their family. You care for them and protect them. When Dill was hurt, it nearly killed you too,” he insists. “I know you’re not ready, and if you decide it’s too much for you, I won’t force it. Whatever role you want to play is completely up to you. I just think you’ll fall into it without even thinking about it. It’ll be as natural as waking up in the morning.”

“Will he have to call me mom?”

Roman laughs and shakes his head. “You can have him refer to you as the motherfucking queen for all I care.”

A grin pulls at my lips and I lean in again, letting him capture my lips and hold them hostage for however long he wants. “So … we’re doing this?” he questions after pulling back. “I’m going to amend the paperwork?”

I swallow hard, a thrill pulsing through my veins. “Yeah,” I tell him. “We’re doing this, but not before speaking to your brothers about it first.”

True fear rocks through his eyes and I laugh, pulling him in again. “If you want to be technical about this. We were married nearly three weeks ago, which means that we also haven’t consummated our marriage, and honestly, I’m surprised, husband,” I tease. “I always picked you as the type to get that over and done with before the ceremony has even ended.”

A deep growl tears through his chest as his hand falls to the back of my neck. He pulls me in and crushes his lips to mine as his other hand curls around my lower back, scooting me right to the edge of the table until I feel him pressed up against my core.

I groan into his mouth, the intense need for him slamming into me like a fucking wrecking ball. I feel his cock hardening behind his pants, and he grinds it against me, only making the need burn so much brighter.

He grips the hem of my shirt and tears it over my head, his eyes dropping to my body and flaming with desire. His mouth finds my neck and I gasp in pleasure as his skilled lips trail over my sensitive skin. “Oh, fuck, Roman. I need to feel you inside me.”

His hands roam over my body as I reach for his shirt, tearing it over his head. I throw it over his shoulder as my greedy eyes linger on his warm skin. He’s everything, his perfect tattoos dancing across his body with each movement, the sharp lines of his abs and pecs, the bulging muscles in his arms, and fuck me, that V.

My mouth waters, and I force myself not to linger on the angry red scar on his abdomen. Instead, I close my eyes and just feel.

Roman’s hands curl around my body, and with a simple flick of his wrist, my bra comes loose and the straps quickly fall down my arms. He rips the lacy material away and pulls back from my neck as his cock continues to grind against my core. “These fucking tits,” he murmurs, his tone tortured with desire as his fingers trail down and brush past the curve of my breast, his thumb pausing to run over my pert nipple. “Fucking gorgeous.”

Goosebumps rise on my skin at his touch, and a breathy moan slips from between my lips, the anticipation of what’s to come heating me from the inside out. Unable to wait any longer, I reach down, my fingers finding the button of his pants and quickly releasing it before pushing his pants down over his narrow hips.

His raging, thick cock springs free, and I grip on to it greedily, loving the deep growl that rumbles through his chest mixed with the fire burning in his eyes. My hand immediately begins pumping up and down, my thumb skimming over his tip. “Fucking hell,” he grunts, pressing his fists against the table beside my thighs and dropping his head to my shoulder. He groans, his soft breath brushing against my skin, and barely a moment passes before it’s too much and his hands are back on me.

Roman pulls me in hard against his body, his lips crushing to mine as his hands find the waistband of my pants. He pushes them down, curling his arm around my waist and lifting me enough to get them down past my ass. My panties go right with them, and in a moment, they’re strewn across the meeting room and I’m bare before him, ready to take whatever he’s willing to give.

His fingers trail down my body to my spread thighs and find my core, brushing against my sensitive clit and making me jolt as electricity fires through my body. I gasp, spreading my legs wider, desperate for more as Roman grins against my lips.

He circles my clit again, and I tighten my grip on his veiny cock, my eyes rolling with undeniable pleasure, but he’s not even close to finished. His fingers go lower, mixing with the wetness right at the center of my core before slowly pushing deep inside me. “Oh, God, Roman,” I groan into his mouth, feeling the way he curls his fingers, moving against my walls as they clench around him, trying to hold him hostage.

He goes again and again, his thumb pressing against my clit and keeping that fire burning deep within me. “You’re going to be my wife, Shayne,” he says against my lips, his tone deep and hungry. “All fucking mine.”

“All yours,” I tell him, my other hand curling around the back of his neck and gripping on to him, my nails digging into the back of his shoulder. “Now fucking take me, Roman. Make me yours.”

Hunger pulses through his dark eyes, and in an instant, he curls his hand around me and scoots me closer to the edge just as he pulls his fingers out of me and lines his cock up with my entrance, all but impaling me on him. He pushes in deep, and I throw my head back as he stretches my walls, making me gasp with need as he fills me to capacity. “Oh, fuck,” I cry out, my hand dropping to the big table to keep me from falling back.

Roman pauses for just a moment, each of us getting used to his delicious intrusion, and as my pussy clenches around him, he groans low, his eyes telling me just how desperate he is. He holds me tight, keeping our bodies plastered to one another and only then does he release our kiss and meet my eye.

His fingers brush down the side of my face in a gentle caress and I lean into his touch, watching as his need to claim control takes over. “You ready, Empress?” he questions, his lips pulling into a cocky grin as his other hand slips between our bodies and slowly begins to massage my clit, making me gasp as my pussy clenches around him again.

I meet his eyes, letting him see the hunger burning through my own. “Give me all you’ve got.”

He doesn’t dare hold back.

Roman fucks me like a damn god, slamming deep inside of me as his fingers work my clit, teasing, massaging, rubbing, and grinding. I gasp into him, our bodies growing sweaty as they press together. I cry out, my hands curling around him as he worships every inch of my body.

My teeth sink into his shoulder and he groans as my pussy squeezes around his thick cock. His fingers dig into my skin as a tortured breath escapes his lips, a breath that sounds a lot like my name. I squeeze him hard and in turn, he fucks me harder, taking me deeper and faster as he pinches my clit between his fingers.

My legs curl around his waist, holding him tighter, and he doesn’t hesitate, grabbing one of my legs and hooking it over his elbow, pulling it up higher and fucking me at a whole new level. “Fuck, Roman,” I pant, my orgasm beginning to creep up on me. “More.”

He grins against my skin before pulling back and meeting my eye. “Is that an order?”

I shake my head and grin. “It’s a fucking dare.”

And within only a moment, my knees are planted on the ground as he presses my chest into the cold marble tiles, my ass high in the air. He takes my hips and I cry out as he slams that thick cock deep inside me once again. “FUCK, YES.”

I reach down between my spread thighs and rub tight little circles against my clit as Roman’s fingers mix into the wetness coated between us. He draws his fingers back to my ass and presses into me, making me groan as a shudder travels through my body.

Holy fuck.

My eyes roll to the back of my head. I’m not going to last.

His fingers at my hips bite into my skin and I push back against him, taking him deeper as my orgasm builds, threatening to send me into a world of bliss. Roman pushes me to the breaking point, taking me deep as I furiously circle my clit. He pushes against my ass, filling me more, and just as he thrusts into me one more time, my orgasm explodes within me.

I cry out, squishing my face into the cold marble as my pussy comes undone, shattering into a quivering mess around him. I squeeze him as I ride out my high, every nerve ending coming alive with pure satisfaction.

He keeps moving as I’m shattered with ecstasy, and then with a low guttural groan, he comes hard, spilling hot spurts of cum deep into my cunt, slowing his movements to a lazy caress. He comes down over me, his cock still buried deep in my cunt. “Was that more enough for ya?”

I look back over my shoulder and capture his lips in mine while pushing back against him and circling my hips. “You’re damn right, it was,” I murmur as he curls his arm around me and slowly begins circling my clit again, sending that familiar electricity pulsing through my veins. “But now I’m wondering what that tongue can do.”

He growls deep in his chest and captures my lips in his. “Prepare to be blown the fuck away.”

32

Still tasting Roman in my mouth, we walk hand in hand out into the oversized living room that we’d all but made our own in the short time we’ve lived here. Levi’s drums are set up in the corner and all the boys’ favorite drinks are still piled high in the adjoining bar. Not going to lie, I was certain that Giovanni would have done away with all this shit, but I suppose the future ex-husband doesn’t really have time between trying to raise his empire and avoid being slaughtered by his sons.

There’s no sign of Levi or Marcus, and I’m not surprised. Marcus is probably deep in the middle of a sex-murder dream, while Levi is … actually, I have no idea where he could be, but I’m sure it’s not far.

Roman releases my hand and makes his way across the room to the fully stocked bar. “We’re celebrating,” he tells me. “What can I get you?”

I gape at him. “Celebrating?” I laugh. “More like preparing for battle. I’m more terrified of telling Marcus that we’re going to be married than I was when Giovanni showed up here with all his soldiers.”

Roman shrugs his shoulders. “No matter how you look at it, we’re still celebrating. You’re going to be free of my father and no longer hold his name. Plus, everything else. Gia is dead, you’re the leader of the Moretti empire, and we’re a million steps closer to slitting my father’s throat. Not to mention, you just got fucked within an inch of your life and I think that’s something to celebrate.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, trying to hide the smirk stretching across my face. The guy has a point—a really good fucking point. “Just pour me whatever you feel is appropriate,” I tell him as I wander toward the drums in the corner of the room. My fingers trail over the high hats before dropping to the snare.

“What are you doing?” Roman asks warily, watching me out of the corner of his eyes.

I avert my eyes as I circle around and spy the little seat. “Nothing.”

“Don’t do it,” he warns, watching me reach back for the sticks. “It’s not worth it.”

A grin cuts across my face as I adjust the sticks in my hands. What can I say? I’m taking all sorts of risks today. “Weren’t you just telling me how I’m the new leader of the Moretti empire?” I question. “And doesn’t that make me the most powerful woman in the country?”

Roman shakes his head. “You may be the most powerful woman in the country, but if you touch his drums, he’ll bring down a whole fucking war on your shoulders.”

My grin widens, my eyes sparkling as he slowly shakes his head in warning from the bar, his hands pausing as he pours our drinks. “Eenie, meanie, miny, moe,” I say, taking on their father’s sick little game. “Just how far will I go?”

And not a moment later, I live out every child’s rockstar dreams. Bringing the sticks down on the drums, I perform to the best of my ability, letting the sound echo through the mansion. I smash down on the high hats while stomping the bass, and I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty good at this.

A wicked grin cuts across my face, and just as I raise my eyes to meet Roman’s stare, Levi comes storming into the living room, his fingers closing around the door frame to propel him faster into the room.

Anger burns through his stare as he bolts toward the drum set, ready to tear me in two. “THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE—oh,” his voice dies and he pulls himself to a stop, eyes wide as he takes me in. “It’s just you.”

Levi stops, doubles over to catch his breath, and something tells me that he might have been way over on the opposite side of the mansion but I don’t get a chance to question it as Marcus comes flying in behind him, panic written across his face. “ROMAN, STOP. DON’T FUCKING—”

His words fade away just as Levi’s had, spying Roman safely across the room. His head whips toward me, both his and Levi’s eyes locked on mine. “The fuck is going on in here?” Marcus grunts, moving toward the bar as Levi saunters closer to me, his eyes heating at seeing me behind his drums.

Roman scoffs. “More importantly, why the fuck isn’t he tearing her a new asshole like he did to you?”

Levi glances back at his brothers, his eyes dancing with laughter. “Because unlike Marcus, she looks fucking hot doing it. Besides, as long as she’ll allow me to keep fucking that tight little cunt, then I’m gonna let her play. Hell, if she wanted to drop her pants and take a shit on them, I’m gonna stand back and applaud and let her know how much of a masterpiece she just created.”

My jaw goes slack and I stare at him in disgust. “Okay,” I say, placing the sticks back down. “Why do you guys always insist on taking things too far?”

Levi grins as though he just won some kind of game I didn’t know we were playing. “It got you off my drums, didn’t it?”

That fucker.

He takes my hand and hooks our joined fingers over my head before leading me over to the bar and grabbing our drinks. He pulls me down onto his lap and I cringe, feeling Roman still between my legs. “I’m curious,” I say, glancing up at Marcus. “What did Roman mean when he said Levi ripped you a new asshole? What exactly happened? I mean, you came storming in here like you were petrified of history repeating itself.”

Marcus shakes his head. “No. Absolutely not. We’re not discussing that.”

Levi scoffs, his hand falling to my thigh. “You got to tell her about Roman being shot in the ass and when I got caught jerking off and you assumed I was getting hard over a fucking clown, so why shouldn’t we share this particular story?”

Marcus’ cheeks go bright freaking red and I gape at him in shock. “ARE YOU BLUSHING?” I screech, my eyes wide as a wicked grin cuts across my face. “No fucking way. The great Marcus DeAngelis is actually blushing! Now you have to tell me what happened.”

Marcus looks to Roman for help, but he should know better. Roman just grins back at him. “What’s the problem, little brother?” he questions, his brows bouncing as his eyes sparkle with laughter. “Don’t have the balls to tell her?”

Levi laughs and I can’t help but feel as though I just missed some kind of inside joke.

Marcus sighs and drops down onto one of the bar stools. “Fine,” he mutters, throwing back his drink and handing it back to Roman for a refill. “I was sixteen and Levi was in his ‘fucking angry about everything’ phase and so naturally, as his big brother, I took it upon myself to fuck with him as much as I could,” he explains. “One night, he was particularly crabby, so I stripped down to my birthday suit and went to town on his drums.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “Do I even want to know what that really means?” I question.

He shakes his head, his eyes lighting with the memory. “No, probably not,” he says as Levi’s hand bunches into a fist on my thigh, the story clearly still having an effect on him. “Anyway, Levi came after me and I fucking took off like a bullet. I was just getting my boxers back on when the fucker came up behind me and gave me the ultimate atomic wedgie.”

A gasp slips from between my lips as I watch the humiliation washing over Marcus’ face. I never had siblings to do that sort of shit to me growing up and have thankfully never experienced even a small wedgie that wasn’t self-inflicted by an ill-fitting thong, but I can only imagine what that would have felt like. “What exactly entails a wedgie to become an ultimate atomic one?”

“Put it this way,” he says, throwing back his second glass of whiskey. “The fabric pulled right up to my head before it tore to shreds. I got rug burn to my asshole and the fucker nearly severed my right testicle.”

I suck in a loud gasp, my eyes wide as my hand flies to my mouth. “NOOOOOOOOOO.”

His head falls, his lips pressing into a hard line. “Yep. I was out all summer and couldn’t walk properly for weeks.”

“Well, shit.”

Levi scoffs behind me. “Serves you right, brother. I warned you that you’d regret fucking with my drums and you just had to test me.”

Marcus rolls his eyes, shoving his glass at Roman for another top-up and I press my lips into a hard line, feeling sick with what I have to tell them, while also a little excited. I don’t know how this is going to go, but either way, none of us are leaving this room until I’ve said what needs to be said. “Umm … anyway, so Roman and I kinda wanted to run something by you.”

Roman’s eyes bug out of his head as he holds back Marcus’ drink, refusing to put anything in his hands that could be used as a weapon. “Now?” he questions. “After he just had to share that story? Nah, pick another time, Empress. Now ain’t it.”

Marcus snatches the glass tumbler from Roman and looks back at me through narrowed eyes. “You even think about holding out on me and I’ll withhold every fucking orgasm until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

I glance nervously at Roman who just shrugs as though this is my mess and now it’s my problem to dig myself out of it. “Ummm … so Roman thinks he might have found a loophole to get me out of the marriage to your father.”

Marcus’ hand pauses halfway to his face, the glass hovering in the air above the bar. “Really?” he questions, his eyes brightening with hope.

“Yeah,” I say slowly, hating to be the one to crush that hope within him. “Ummmm … it’s not so much of a loophole, rather an amendment.” His brows furrow and he looks at me in confusion as Levi stiffens beneath me, already figuring out where this is going. “So, I’m sure you’re aware that Roman shares a name with your father and what we were thinking is that—”

“FUCK NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT,” Marcus spits, throwing himself to his feet and immediately starting to pace. “You wanna be married to this asshole? FUCK.” He turns toward Roman and I see the anger building in his eyes, but before I can do a damn thing about it, Marcus has already propelled himself over the bar with his fist currently sailing right toward his eldest brother’s jaw.

There’s a sickening crunch before Roman shoves Marcus hard, pushing him a step away and allowing him that moment of clarity to find control. He glares at his brother, shaking his head as he clenches his jaw. “I should have fucking known you’d put that fucking idea in her head.”

Roman rubs his jaw and spits a mouthful of blood into the bar sink. “It’s not about me trying to steal her away. Fuck, Marc. You should know her better than that. If that were the case, she’d never even consider it. It’s about releasing her from the marriage to our father.”

Marcus shakes his head, grabbing himself another drink and throwing it back. The glass slams down on the bar and quickly shatters with the force. “I don’t fucking like it.”

“No shit,” Roman says. “You made that clear.”

Levi’s fingers gently squeeze my thigh, bringing my attention back to him. “Are you sure about this? My father could be dead in as little as a few days. We’re going to have both families working together. The moment he’s gone, your marriage won’t matter.”

“Not technically,” I tell him, knowing that Marcus is listening intently, “but I will still be considered Giovanni’s widow. Even in death, I won’t be able to escape that connection to him. Now if I weren’t married to him at all, if he weren’t legally my husband …”

I leave the words hanging and Levi slowly nods. “Look, I’m not going to lie,” he starts. “If any of us were lucky enough to have your hand in marriage, I always thought it’d probably be Marc, but if this is what you want, if you can walk away from this decision and be happy with it, then you’ll have my blessing.”

“You’re not upset or anything like that?”

“Tell me this,” he starts. “Will being married to Roman have any effect on our relationship? Will you be any less mine?”

I shake my head, horrified by the idea. “Absolutely not. It’s just a piece of paper,” I say, turning back to Marcus. “Same goes for you. Yes, I’ll be technically married to him, but it’s not like I asked for this. It’s not like he got down on one knee and demanded exclusivity. All we’re doing is making an already shitty situation better. And if I’m completely honest, if I had my own way, I wouldn’t be married to any of you. I love you all equally, and I don’t believe that having our names written on a piece of paper is any kind of endgame, especially in our situation. It would never work.”

Seeing the indecision still on his face, I get up and move across the bar until I’m leaning against it and reaching over to grip his warm hands. “What’s going to make this okay for you?” I ask him, meeting his dark eyes.

He watches me closely and a flicker of nervousness flashes through his eyes. “After all is said and done, when everything has calmed down, I want a vow ceremony. All three of us, and you. We lay it all out on the table and you officially become all of ours.”

My brows furrow. “Like a wedding, but without the marriage certificate at the end?” I question.

“Exactly. We make our vows in front of the priest, in front of our families, and we combine as one.”

My heart flutters wildly in my chest. “You really want that?” I question, pushing up against the bar to get closer to him. He nods. “I do,” he says. “You’ll technically be married to Roman, but you’ll also have equal ties to me and Levi. I mean, if you’re down for that.”

Warmth spreads through my veins, lighting every nerve with adrenaline until I find myself climbing up over the bar and planting myself in front of him. “Of course, I'm down for that. I’m so fucking down it’s insane.”

Marcus grins and fuses his mouth to mine, kissing me deeply as his arms curl around my body. His tongue sweeps into my mouth and I moan into him, feeling more at home in his arms than I ever felt in any of the places we’ve stayed since meeting them.

He pulls away from me, his forehead tipping to mine. “For what it’s worth, if that asshole gets to refer to you as ‘wife’ and I don't, I’m going to castrate him while he sleeps.”

I shake my head and laugh before turning back and meeting Levi’s dark eyes. “Are you down for a vow ceremony?”

His lips twist as he lets out a heavy sigh. “Would I have to wear a suit?”

“No,” I laugh. “Come in your bare-ass naked glory for all I care.”

Levi groans. “Fine, I suppose,” he says, “but there better be a fucking epic party afterward.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn to my almost husband. “And you?” I question, unsure why I feel so nervous about the guys’ responses to this.

“You fucking know it, babe. Now—”

A loud buzzing sounds through the mansion and Roman cuts off his sentence, his gaze snapping to Levi’s. “That’s the front door. Someone’s trying to get in.”

All conversations of weddings and marriages fall away as Roman’s hands fly under the bar, pulling out weapons and handing them to his brothers. A shitty little gun is placed into my hand and I glare at Roman. “Sorry,” he says before launching himself over the bar and landing right beside me. “That’s all I got left under here.”

He grips my hand, and as one, the four of us fly out of the living room, Marcus in front, leading the pack with Levi behind, protecting our backs. “So, ahh … I’m assuming I need to make the call?”

“Huh?” I grunt, far too preoccupied with whoever is trying to break into the mansion.

He rolls his eyes. “To amend the paperwork. To officially become married.”

“Oh yeah,” I say as my eyes dart from left to right, certain that someone is going to jump out at us at any second. “Make the call, but for the record, I’m going to need some shiny diamonds to go along with that bullshit non-existent proposal, and they better be brand spanking new. I don’t want any of your twisted ex’s hand-me-downs.”

Roman groans and rolls his eyes as both Levi and Marcus scoff. “Fine.”

We storm through the mansion, more than under prepared for this particular attack, but as we enter into the massive foyer and Marcus moves toward the front window, his brows raise before he starts shaking his head. “Fucking hell,” he mutters, not pleased by whoever stands at the door.

He lets out a frustrated groan and just like that, Roman and Levi seem to relax as we watch Marcus move to the front door and tear it open without even a hint of warning. His gun remains up, holding steady and strong, making him look like the twisted psychopath that I’ve come to love. “What in the ever-loving fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Well, well … speaking of Roman’s twisted exes.

Ariana’s hands snap up, her eyes going wide as she takes in Marcus. Fear sweeps through her stare as she watches over his shoulder, taking in the scene behind him, Roman’s hand in mine, the weapons, and Levi to our left.

A hint of jealousy courses through her eyes and I smirk, wondering just what she’d think of Roman’s very untraditional proposal. Hell, the whole vow ceremony. After all, Ariana lives by the theory that any DeAngelis dick is good dick. Fucking cow, and to think I actually wanted to help her.

She closes her mouth, unsure of how to respond to this welcoming, as by the looks of it, she assumed she was coming to an empty house. Marcus moves forward, the barrel of his gun pressing against her head. “I’m not going to ask you again, Ariana. What the fuck are you doing here?”

She swallows hard, indecision in her eyes. “I know where Giovanni is.”

And just like that, Marcus lowers the gun and welcomes her into the mansion.

33

Ariana lasted all of three minutes before Roman had every bit of information out of her and sent her straight back out the door with a reminder of what was to happen to her if she ever showed up here again. She cried like a whiny little bitch and was sent away without even a second glance, and I’m not going to lie, I was all too smug during the whole thing.

Best three minutes of my life.

We stand in the training room of the Moretti private residence with the best Moretti soldiers around us. They aren’t exactly thrilled to have Roman, Marcus, and Levi standing in their space, and they were even less thrilled to learn that we’d invited the best of the DeAngelis men to join us. But that’s the beauty of being in my position. What I say goes, and they can either learn to accept it, or find out what kind of leader I will be when they step against me.

Agent Davidson has quietly slipped away, not interested in being involved with a war that he doesn’t have to be a part of, especially now that Gia is dead and his assignment is officially coming to a close. Though I’m sure it won’t be long until the Moretti men begin to notice his absence.

The boys are busy searching through the armory, checking over what kind of weapons we have access to when they step out as one, leaving the other Moretti men behind to finish cataloging everything we have. “They’re here,” Marcus says, nodding toward the elevator.

I nod and let out a nervous breath. The last time I saw these men, they weren’t entirely down with the idea of working side-by-side with us, but we all have a mutual enemy who needs to be taken out. After that, I have no idea what’s supposed to happen, but I’m sure whatever it is will be ugly. I’ve come to learn that nothing is easy in this world, and when asking grown ass men to play nice, it generally doesn’t go as planned.

We take the elevator up to the main floor and step out into the foyer just as the DeAngelis men make their way through the front door. “What is this place?” the little Roman-look-alike asks with his henchmen, Trevor and Julio, at his sides.

“This,” I say, spreading my arms out wide as Mick and his tech team file in behind them carrying boxes of tech that I can’t even begin to understand, “was Gia Moretti’s personal residence, and this here,” I add, pointing out the crack in the marble where the chandelier fell and eliminated Gia for good, “is where the bitch died.”

Eyebrows shoot up into hairlines while others just simply gape, staring at the spot on the expensive marble as though it’s some kind of magical place that will offer them the supernatural powers of the gods.

“Okaaaaay,” Marcus says after a moment of awkward silence. “Fighters with me, tech dudes with Roman. Everyone else … fucked if I know. Figure it out yourselves.” And just like that, Marcus saunters off with a handful of fighters following behind him.

I look up at Levi and Roman. “Is it really such a good idea to have Marcus do the introductions between the DeAngelis and Moretti fighters? He’ll probably encourage some kind of bloodbath.”

Levi presses his lips into a hard line before cursing. “Fuck.”

He turns on his heel and jogs after Marcus as Roman glances down at me. “Guess you’re stuck with me,” he says before turning to Mick and his team. He indicates with a nod of his head and the group of overqualified men follow us through the mansion.

We lead them through the maze of hallways until finally pushing through to the massive tech room Gia had set up. The Moretti team is already busy doing their searches, and when Roman steps through the door, they barely glance up.

The team leader is Lennox who stands at attention, waiting on instructions from me, which only manages to send a wave of unease through my system. I’m not used to this kind of attention, but I have to get used to it. “Lennox,” I say, indicating to Mick, “this is Mick and his team. He’s the DeAngelis tech dude. He’s a computer wizard so I’m sure between everyone, it shouldn’t be a problem finding the information we need.”

“Of course,” Lennox says, turning to Mick. “I know your work. It’s impressive.”

“Same to you,” Mick responds with a curt nod of his head.

Lennox gives an awkward smile before stepping back and indicating to the spare tables and chairs throughout the room. “Make yourselves at home and I’ll show you our tech.”

And just like that, Mick’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning and his team flies in like toy soldiers and starts setting up their equipment before we can even step out of their way. They all seem to get along, and I quickly realize they don’t hold that same animosity as what the fighters and the direct family members do. These guys are more like brains for hire. They come, they do their job, and they get the fuck out before they can get dragged deeper into this bullshit world.

Roman and I walk out after giving instructions to get us the information we need as soon as possible, and just as expected, an hour later, we have a full map of Giovanni’s estranged mother’s property and details on how to infiltrate it.

Lennox is still working on getting heat signatures and has promised that by the time we get there, we’ll have that information. In the meantime, Mick has set everyone up with communication devices and explained how they’ll be watching our backs and guiding us through, while also demanding this upgraded tech for the DeAngelis warehouse.

Within ten minutes, there’s a convoy of SUVs peeling out of the Moretti residence. I sit beside Marcus in the backseat, Roman and Levi in front, the four of us sitting in silence as our bodies don every type of weapon that could possibly fit on our black tactical uniforms. Well mostly, I stuck with the pants and boots because they look fucking fire and paired them with a cropped black tank.

Holsters curl around my arms and thighs while my hair is pulled back into a high pony, plaited right down to the very end. I feel like I just stepped out of a sexy assassin movie—but the boys. Holy mother of all things sweet and sexy! They look like sex on legs, I can barely keep focus. I’ve never wanted to jump them more.

Apparently, I have a thing for men in uniform. Who would have known.

With Giovanni’s estranged mother’s property being heavily guarded, we don’t dare pass the property, instead we pull off into the nearby forest, our headlights going off as our convoy of SUVs trail through the too narrow hiking trail.

We come to a stop, and as we wait for our teams to come together and wait for instruction, I notice the very moment the sun dips down behind the mountains in the distance. It won’t be long until we lose what little light remains, and while attacking in the dead of night holds all too many memories for me, it’s exactly what Giovanni expects of us.

Roman holds his hand to his ear. “Mick, you hear me?”

There’s a short pause as the soldiers around us fall into silence. “Right. Where’s Lennox at with the heat signatures?” Roman questions, his gaze off into the distance, staring toward the home where his son—our son—is being kept.

“Good, and the kids?”

Another pause.

“Okay. I’ll check in when we’re at the boundary.”

Mick mustn’t reply as Roman immediately addresses the waiting army. “Heat signatures suggest possibly fifty armed guards surrounding the immediate house, a further twenty-five inside the home, and a few sporadically outside of the property gates. Giovanni was last seen two hours ago in the main dining hall. However, he has not been detected on any of the surveillance cameras since. If you find him, the goal is to capture him alive and bring him back to either myself or my brothers. If your life is in immediate danger and it is imperative to make a kill shot, then take it.”

“The children?” one of the Moretti soldiers asks.

Roman nods. “Lennox has determined through heat signatures that the three children are located in the upper west wing of the property. You’re looking for two girls, ages eight and ten, and a newborn, less than three months. There seems to be someone watching over them. At this stage, it can not be determined whether this is an innocent nursemaid hired solely to tend to the children, or if this is a trained guard. Keep your eyes open. Are there any questions?”

“If we get our hands on one of these kids? What do you want us to do? Keep them safe while helping our brothers or bail?”

“Bail,” Marcus says as though his soldier should have known better. “You have been brought here to do two things—find Giovanni and save those children. If you happen to get your hands on them, you communicate through your earpiece with a confirmation of the child and give your location. The men closest to you will be responsible for watching your back to ensure you get out of there with the child unharmed. If you have one of those three children in your arms, your job is not to watch your brother’s back. It is to take care of your own.”

The soldiers nod, understanding it for what it is—the children’s lives above theirs—and not one of them disagrees.

“Alright,” Roman says, keeping his eye on the dimming daylight. “I trust everyone studied the blueprint of the property on the ride over and knows where they need to be?” Every last man confirms just as we all knew they would, and with a determined nod, Roman says, “Good. Let’s move.”

The soldiers take off into the thick trees, moving with the kind of stealth that the boys were trained to have. They break off into small attack groups and I watch with awe. They take their mission seriously, and it’s clear that they were trained by only the best this world has to offer—both the DeAngelis family and the Morettis.

There’s no doubt in my mind that tonight, we’re going to win. There’s no way we can’t. We have surprise on our side and come fully loaded with a team that Giovanni would never be able to obtain, no matter how hard he searched and who he had to threaten to make it happen.

I stick between Levi and Marcus, and a thrill travels down my spine watching Marcus’ eyes light with the excitement of the impending bloodbath he’s about to create. Hell, with each step he takes, I’m almost certain that he forgets about the reason we’re here just a little bit more. But I know that when it comes down to it, Marcus will do whatever it takes to save those kids, even if it means escaping without spilling even a single drop of blood, no matter how much he might hate that.

Roman walks ahead of us, his shoulders back and his head held high with fierce determination. He won’t fail tonight. Not after everything he’s suffered through to bring him to this point, his head is in the game, and no matter what risks he has to take, he will get what’s rightfully his.

The trees begin to thin and as I look left and right, I don’t see a single body, but I know they’re there, completely surrounding the property and waiting on Roman’s instructions. There are twenty small groups and we stand in silence, listening through our small earpieces waiting for confirmation that every last group is exactly where it needs to be. The wait seems to go on forever as some of those groups have to make it the whole way around the perimeter of the property and to the other side, but we’ll wait as long as it takes.

As we stand hidden in the bushes, we get a good feel for the property, watching the guards who stand on the outskirts of the gates, peering into the trees and missing every last one of us. Lights are on inside the house, and we take note of where people are inside as Mick and Lennox feed information back to us, detailing the location of all the guards.

A grin pulls at the corner of my lips and Levi glances down at me. “What’s funny?” he murmurs, keeping his voice low.

I shake my head. “They’re telling us exactly where they are,” I comment. “Where’s the fun in that? They’re making it too easy.”

Marcus scoffs, and I know without a doubt that he agrees wholeheartedly. He likes the chase, he likes the opportunity to play with his food before destroying it. Levi on the other hand just rolls his eyes, more than happy to know where his targets are so he can sneak up on them and take them out without the risk of sounding the alarm.

“You ready?” Marcus asks. “Gun loaded? Checked?”

I glare up at him. “You honestly think after everything, I haven’t checked my gun?”

He arches a brow and I try to hold my glare, but that nagging thought in the back of my head that usually tells me I forgot to turn off my hair straightener even though I checked it twenty times, insists that maybe I did forget. My eye twitches as the need to recheck it fires through me, but I won’t dare, not as long as his eyes are still on me.

His lips begin to pull into a wicked smirk, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me, and after a long pause, Roman sighs in front of us, not even bothering to look back. “Shayne, check your fucking gun, and Marc, stop making her doubt herself. You know she checked it when she first got it, when we got in the car, and again when she got out just like we trained her.”

The need to poke out my tongue fires through me, but I’ll save it for a time when there’s no risk of Roman turning around and knocking me out. I’d miss all the fun and he’d claim it was a ‘safety measure.’

The final confirmation comes from the group of guards directly across the property from us, and my shoulders immediately pull back, all ridiculous light conversation fading away. Roman presses his hand to his ear and his voice sails through to the small piece of tech in my ear. “Let’s move in three … two … one.”

Despite not being able to see them, I know that every small group of soldiers swiftly steps out of the trees, moving silently toward the property without raising suspicion until the very last minute, which is exactly what we do as we move toward the two guards standing outside the front gates.

We’re on the left of the oversized, wrought-iron gates and we head for the guard standing closest to us. Moving silently through the shadows, both Roman and Marcus prepare themselves, watching their targets closely.

The guard closest to us turns his back and Roman strikes, rushing in behind him and slapping his hand down over his mouth. The guard doesn’t even get a chance to scream before Roman’s knife strikes across his throat. The guard falls, and just as the other on the right of the gate spins around, Marcus is there, slamming him back against the big pillar. Marcus snaps his neck, clean and effortlessly, and with a heavy thump, the guard falls to Marcus’ feet.

The boys drag the bodies into the small guard booth beside the big iron gate and we each step over them, slipping through the booth to gain access to the property, rather than drawing attention by trying to scale the tall gate or moronically opening it.

“Did you guys even know about this property?” I murmur, keeping my voice as low as humanly possible.

“No fucking idea,” Marcus murmurs behind me. “Never even met the woman. Don’t even know her name.”

Great. This should be interesting.

The night is silent, telling me that our men are doing their job flawlessly, and as I scan the property, I watch with amusement as guards are snatched out of the shadows and seamlessly dealt with.

We move out from the booth and glance back as Marcus’ hand falls to my thigh, gripping my knife and pulling it from its sheath. He keeps his eyes trained on the property, and without even glancing at me, he presses the handle into the palm of my hand, a silent message to be ready for whatever might come at us.

“Three guards approaching the front gate,” I hear through the small piece of tech in my ear. Excitement drums into me and I clutch my knife a little tighter. Hearing the soft rustling of feet in the grass, I grin and turn toward the approaching men. Ready to leave my mark, I move forward to strike, only three giant assholes move in front of me, blocking my view as they take care of business.

I sheath my knife and stand back, crossing my arms over my chest, impatiently waiting.

They take the guards out in record time before turning and glancing back at me as though they’re some kind of heroes. “Seriously?” I question, eyeing the three of them and ignoring the fact that I’m super impressed with how they managed to dispose of the three guards in a matter of seconds while also avoiding being splattered with blood. “Why am I even here? Do you just want someone to watch you make your kills? I mean, what’s the point if you’re going to step in front of me like egotistical asshats? I can take care of myself. I’ve had good training and made plenty of kills against men twice my size. I think I’ve more than proven myself. So, let’s summarize, shall we? Step in front of me and block me from doing my job, and I won’t be marrying a damn one of you.”

Guilt flashes in their eyes and there’s no doubt in my mind they knew exactly what they were doing when they moved in front of me like that. I narrow my gaze and Roman lets out a sigh. “Fine,” he says, pointing to my right. “Then this guy is all yours.”

I spin on my heel, my knife already in my hand to find a guy stepping out from behind the booth, his brows furrowed, probably trying to figure out where the hell all the other guards disappeared to.

I pounce like a fucking tiger, not even giving him a chance to react.

He’s tall and beyond round, and I know without a doubt I won’t have a chance in hell of getting him on his ass, so I scale the fucker like a cat climbing a tree. He cries out like a little bitch, and I curse the asshole. The sound wasn’t loud enough to catch the attention of the other guards, but it was enough for the guys to know I’m not getting this done fast enough.

I don’t waste my time glancing back at them, but I sense them preparing to step in, which only pisses me off more. I get up high on his body, my head hovering over his and forcing him to look up as he grabs me. His nails dig into my skin in an attempt to throw me off, but my reflexes are too fast and as he goes to roar out, sounding the alarm, I sink my knife straight down his open throat.

He gurgles on the blood pouring down his throat, and I quickly tear my knife out before slashing it across the front of his neck, the angle of his body ensuring that the boys are drenched in his blood like a waterfall.

He slowly falls forward and I prepare myself on the way down to simply step off and plant myself in front of the boys.

Marcus grins at me like he just met an angel, while Roman and Levi look anything but pleased. “That was fun,” I tell them, seeing another group of our men approaching from behind the guys. “Now can we get on with it? We’ve got a baby to save.”

With that, the boys wipe the blood from their faces and just as the other soldiers meet us, a gunshot sounds through the property. “Fuck,” Roman curses just as gunfire returns twofold. “They know we’re here. Go hard. No prisoners.”

34

We race toward the house, the soldiers taking the lead to clear the path so that we can make it to the house without anything slowing us down. Guards race toward us and bullets whiz past my face. Months ago, those bullets would have scared the shit out of me, but tonight, they’re just pissing me off.

Pulling my gun, I fire back, trying not to shoot the boys or any of our men in the process. More guards join and Marcus curses, pulling his own gun. “You guys go on, I’ll hold them off.”

We don’t even get a chance to respond before he lets off two perfect kill shots, his impeccable skill like no other. We take off at a sprint, and I feel sick leaving him behind, but the middle of the war zone is where Marcus thrives, and with the other soldiers at his back, I know he’s going to be alright.

A few guards meet us as we storm up the grand stairs leading to the front door, and Roman lets off quick shots, not bothering with the dramatic slaughtering as we’re now in a time crunch. Every moment the guards are aware of our presence is another moment that allows them to slip away … allows Giovanni to slip away, and that is simply not acceptable.

Getting past the armed guards, Levi shoots out the lock for the floor-to-ceiling front door, and as he gives it a hard shove, we find guards already waiting for us. They attack immediately, not allowing us the chance to get the upper hand, but unfortunately for them, they underestimated the power that Levi and Roman wield.

This foyer isn’t as grand as the ones I’ve been fighting in over the past few months and doesn’t allow much breathing space, and despite the raging need to join in and end these guys, I’m only going to be in the way. So instead, I slip out behind the boys and bolt for the stairs.

I get halfway up the staircase when I hear the familiar sound of flesh being beaten and my head whips to the left, peering over the railing to find that some of the Moretti soldiers have already made it through the maze of guards. One of them glances up, more than aware of his surroundings, and upon finding me, his gaze sweeps over my body to check that I’m unharmed. In that moment, a sliver of camaraderie passes between us, so much so that not a moment later, my knife flies through the air and plunges deep into the stomach of the guard who moves at his back.

His eyes widen and he quickly sends a nod of thanks, but I don’t linger on it, having more than enough already on my plate. I soar up the stairs, getting right near the top when Roman’s voice booms through the foyer. “SHAYNE, ON YOUR SIX.”

I whip around and immediately duck as a set of strong hands reach for me. My eyes widen and the guard tumbles, slightly off balance from missing his mark, and I shift out of the way, gaining just enough space to kick my booted foot out and slam it into his chest. The guard falls back and tumbles down the impressive staircase, coming to a stop at the bottom where Roman is waiting and ready for him. He doesn’t last another fucking second.

With Roman and Levi clearing out the foyer and the extra soldiers to our left, Roman leaves Levi to finish off the remaining guards and sprints up the stairs after me. “Mick,” I say, hoping to God that he hears me. “We’re on the stairs. Where do we go?”

“To the west wing,” he says, his voice sharp and loud in my ear.

My head whips left to right as Roman quickly gains on me. “West?” I question in a panic. “I was raised with left or right. WHICH WAY, MICK?”

“Left,” he rushes out. “Take the hallway to the end. We’re still getting four heat signatures from the room. Two children, one baby, and an adult. The hallway is clear as are adjoining rooms.”

I take off at a sprint as Roman comes up after me, his gaze sharp as he scans the space in front of us, searching for threats despite Mick’s assurances. “Anything on my father?” Roman questions. “Anyone found him yet?”

“Negative,” Mick responds. “We’ve got nothing. All heat signatures have been confirmed as guards. I’m sorry, man. He slipped us again. He must have known we were coming. There are still bound to be family members who remain loyal, but we knew that was a possibility.”

“FUCK,” Roman spits, stopping toward the end of the hallway, his frustration getting the best of him. “FIND HIM,” Roman demands. “You have the best fucking technology at your fingertips. Track the bastard with whatever means necessary. I want him dead.”

“Yes, sir,” Mick responds, his voice fading to a distant murmur as he relays their orders to Lennox and the rest of the tech team.

My hand presses to his shoulder, drawing his attention back to the here and now. “We’ll focus on your father later, for now, we need to get those kids, and you need to meet your son.”

As if those words spark a fire deep inside of him. His head snaps up and he looks toward the door at the end of the long hallway, and without hesitation, he moves toward it, his gun in hand. I stand by his side and get the awful sense of déjà vu. I’ve been here twice before, certain that I was about to push open a door and put an end to this, only to have my hopes crushed. “You ready?” I ask him, my gun in hand.

He nods. “Just like last time,” he tells me. “I go for the threat, you go for the baby.”

He sees the conviction in my eyes and I can practically hear the countdown inside his head.

Three.

Two.

One.

Roman storms in first, his gun held high, ready to take out whatever threat lies in our way as I dart below his arm into the room.

A woman stands before us, her arms up and tears streaming down her face. The baby cries in the corner as Phillip’s two daughters crouch down in the farthest corner, holding on to one another and silently weeping, absolutely terrified.

I immediately recognize the woman who’d helped me flee Giovanni’s clutches, who told me to run and never look back. She knew I’d come for the baby at some point, but finding her like this, her life flashing before her eyes as the bomb strapped to her chest slowly counts down.

Four minutes and thirty-six seconds.

Thirty-five.

Thirty-four.

“May,” Roman breathes, taking in the woman before him, the woman who silently cared for the boys, a prisoner to that castle just as much as they were, despite her freedom to come and go.

“Just go,” she begs, tears streaming down her face. “Take the children and go. There’s nothing left for me here. If you try to disable it, the timer will stop and we will all perish. You must take the children, Roman.”

“May,” he repeats, shaking his head. Leaving her to die is not something he’s capable of doing.

“Roman DeAngelis,” she snaps. “Don’t you dare start going soft on me now. These children need you. Take them out of here. Do it now.”

“Shayne,” Roman demands, the rest of his orders not needing to be spoken out loud. My heart races with fear, even just knocking her could set it off. I can’t risk it. I have to get them and leave, and as much as it kills me, I’m going to walk out of this door with those children in my arms and not look back.

I race toward the crib in the corner of the room and reach down toward the screaming baby, cradling him in my arms. “There’s a go bag in the closet,” May instructs. “Take it.”

I do as I’m told, my gaze snapping back to the timer.

Four minutes and three seconds.

Fuck. I still have to get them out of the house and far enough away not to be impacted by the bomb.

Grabbing the baby’s go bag, I hook it over my shoulder and glance across the room to the two girls. “I need you two to walk very slowly toward me,” I tell them, meeting their horrified stares as Roman continues to skillfully gaze over the bomb that could blast us all to pieces.

Three minutes and forty-eight seconds.

The girls nod, gripping on to one another’s hands as they begin to make their way toward me, tiptoeing across the room as though they’re scared to even breathe, and hell, I think they just might be. Fuck, I am too. The baby squeals in my arms, probably past due for a sleep or a feed. Hell, maybe the little dude just needs to take a shit but it’s not something I can deal with now.

The girls safely make it to my side, and I awkwardly hold on to the baby as I move toward the door. “Let’s go,” I tell Roman, hating the way he stands like a statue watching the timer slowly counting down. “ROMAN,” I demand.

He doesn’t move and May shakes her head. “Don’t be a fool, Roman DeAngelis. Get out of here while you still can.”

He doesn’t budge and tears spring to my eyes as I release the little girl’s hand and grip Roman’s chin. “Snap the fuck out of it, Roman. That bomb is going to go off the second you touch it. You’re not fucking leaving me like that, do you hear me? You can’t save everyone, but these kids? You sure as fuck can save them. I can’t get them out of here and far enough away by myself.” The tears spill down my face as I watch the moment realization dawns on him and his heart falls right out of his chest, shattering into a million pieces on the ground before me. “I can’t do this without you, Roman. Please, we have to walk away.”

Roman’s gaze falls to the baby cradled in my arms before turning back to the time.

Three minutes and twelve seconds.

Devastation pours out of him as he meets May’s pained stare. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, his voice breaking as he grips the elbow of the little girl at his side and slowly begins retreating out of the room.

May presses her lips into a tight line and nods her head. “It’s alright, Roman. I always knew you had the biggest heart out of all of them. I don’t hold this against you. I’m not angry with you, but you need to go, and you need to go now.”

Roman nods, and with one final step, we cross the threshold of the bedroom and Roman turns to me, panic in his eyes. “Get the fuck out of here.”

We run, booming down the hallway as Roman grips onto both of the girls, the younger one in his arms while the older sister stumbles trying to keep up with our speed, but Roman doesn’t dare let her fall. “MICK,” Roman calls. “EVACUATION ORDER. NOW! GET THEM OUT OF HERE. WE’VE GOT A LIVE BOMB AND IT’S GOING TO FUCKING BLOW.”

“Done,” Mick fires back before I hear him in my ear, the same message being relayed to every last soldier in our team. “ABORT MISSION. LIVE BOMB. I REPEAT. ABORT MISSION. GET OUT AND SAVE YOURSELVES.”

I clutch the baby, holding him tight to my chest as we hit the top of the stairs. I try to keep him from jostling around, unsure just how fragile they are. He keeps crying, and damn, if I could, I’d be screaming my fucking lungs out too, but it’ll have to wait until we get out of here and to the safety of the surrounding forest.

We storm down the staircase, and as soldiers run for their lives, racing out the doors and smashing their way out through the windows, only two fuckknuckles are running in the opposite direction, their eyes wide as they search us out.

Levi waits at the bottom of the stairs, collecting the older sister as Marcus scoops me into his arms, slipping the bag off my shoulder and lightening my load as we bolt for the stairs. I have no fucking idea how much time we have left to spare, but it can’t be good. We got up eight flights of stairs and a block down the street in the space of two minutes, so surely we can do it again with three children.

Fuck.

We break out into the cold night and bodies litter every inch of the grass, blood running down the path and staining the manicured lawn, but I don’t dare hang around to check just how many of the bodies belong to us. We can do a headcount when we get back to the Moretti residence, assuming we make it back.

My heavy boots slap against the hard ground and I cringe realizing that we have to leave the way we came in. We can’t possibly scale the high gates with the children. We’d have to physically pass them over and that would take too much time. We have to risk detouring past the guard booth before doubling back toward the thick bushes.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I push myself faster, all too aware of the screaming baby in my arms. We hit the guard booth a moment later, and getting through it and stepping over the dead bodies takes precious seconds that we don’t have. Getting back past the gates, I smell sweet freedom, and we run as fast as we can, the other soldiers already deep into the safety of the thick forest.

The trees loom up ahead and every step I take feels as though it takes a lifetime and—

BOOM!

My body is catapulted up off the ground, and I fly through the air as a raging heat hits my back. The ground comes up fast as arms lock around my body, holding me close, and just as quickly as it happened, I’m slamming down against the ground, my hip hitting the hard earth as the majority of my body is protected by Marcus.

The BOOM echoes through my ears and my head spins as hands begin pulling at me. “SHAYNE,” Marcus yells, shaking me. “Is the baby alright? SHAYNE. FUCK.”

Shit. The baby.

I wriggle out of Marcus’ tight grip, my head snapping down to the baby in my arms. He’s silent and my heart races with terror. He hasn’t been silent since the second we stormed into that room. My arms are clean of dirt so I don’t think he hit the ground, but he sure as fuck could have been jostled around from the impact of our fall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cry as Roman rushes into my side, dropping to his knees beside me. “Come on, baby. Be okay. Please be okay.”

I cradle his tiny body, holding him gently. I can see the quick thrum of his pulse through his fragile skin, so I know he’s alive, but his eyes are closed and he’s not making a damn sound.

“Why won’t he cry?”

Roman’s eyes are wide and he takes the baby from my arms, stroking the side of his face. “Come on, little man,” he begs, his tone tortured and full of a heart wrenching fear that makes me want to break down and scream. Roman leans into him and blows against his face, and just like that, his little obsidian eyes spring open and the loudest screech tears through the fiery night.

“Holy fuck,” Roman says, meeting my horrified stare. “I thought—”

“I know,” I tell him. “Me too.”

“Come on,” Levi says, the girls hovering by his side as the mansion burns behind us. “We need to get out of here.”

And just like that, we storm back through the thick trees and barrel into the SUV to lead our men home and figure out how the fuck we’re going to find Giovanni.

35

“What the fuck do we do with it?” Marcus asks, his lips twisting in confusion as we each stare over the side of the crib, looking in at the baby who we’ve moved heaven and hell to bring home. He lays at the bottom of the crib, his arms spread wide as he sleeps soundly.

It took us all of two seconds after returning back to the Moretti residence to realize that we were going to have to call in a professional to teach us how to care for this little creature, and we made sure to pay whatever fees she asked for if it meant she could show up within the next ten minutes with every last thing we could possibly need. Though, to be fair, most of it we had to wait for, but she was able to grab formula, bottles, and diapers on her way. Apparently that’s all we needed to make it through the night. The rest, Levi was sent to get the second the sun peeked above the horizon.

Our nanny taught me and Roman how to prepare a bottle and how to change his diaper, and despite seeing the concern deep in her eyes, she didn’t dare question what two clueless idiots did to end up with a baby in their care. Hell, she didn’t even seem intimidated by the boys despite knowing exactly who they were the moment she walked through the door. All she cared about was making sure the baby got the best possible care, and that’s exactly what she focused on.

We may keep her hostage here for a few weeks, that’s still undecided. To be honest, I’m terrified of letting her walk out the door and forcing me to adult all by myself, but Roman seems to get this as though he was born for it.

Levi tilts his head to the side in an eerily similar way to how he tilts it right before he decides to kill something, and I watch him a little more closely. “I think he needs a blanket,” Levi says, quickly nodding as if agreeing with his own conclusion. “Yes, he definitely needs a blanket.”

“No,” I call out, my hand snapping up and catching the blanket just as it flies through the air toward the crib. “The lady said he can’t have loose blankets, or toys, or pillows in his crib. It’s dangerous.”

“What?” Levi grunts, twisting his face in the same way that Marcus has been doing for the last hour. “That’s ridiculous. Everyone likes a pillow on their bed.”

I roll my eyes and throw the blanket right across the other side of the room as if to make a point. “I know, pillows are amazing, but what if he manages to roll onto his tummy and his face gets pressed up against the pillow and he can’t move. He’ll suffocate himself. Or … or what if the blanket gets caught over his little face and he can’t breathe?”

Levi’s eyes bug out of his head as he looks down at the little guy. “Fuck, are you sure?” he questions. “How are we supposed to know that shit? Do regular people just know that? Or is there like … a Mom course you’re supposed to do when you’re pregnant?”

“I, uhhhh … I don’t actually know. The baby lady told me.”

“Shit, well … what else?”

“Umm … I guess, there are lots of things to know. Like, you have to make him burp after he has a bottle so he doesn’t get a sore tummy and—”

“Make him burp?” Marcus questions, his face blank apart from his eyes that look slightly terrified. “How the fuck are we supposed to do that? Punch the little dude in the stomach?”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, staring at him in horror before slowly turning my gaze on Levi and then Roman across the big room. “Let’s make a pact to never leave Marcus alone with the baby until he can at least walk—NO. No, until he’s five and going to school. That should be enough time.”

Marcus looks back at me, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it … what’s wrong with that? It was a serious question? It’s not like I was going to do it hard, you know, just a little love tap to the gut.”

“Unless you’d like him to projectile vomit on you,” Roman mutters moving across the room to stare over the side of the crib again, “then I suggest that’s not such a bright idea.”

Marcus nods as though the thought of vomit hadn’t even occurred to him, and he’s more than grossed out by the topic. “Fair call,” he says, backing away from the sleeping baby, realizing he’s not just a little bit out of his league on this one, but that he doesn’t even have his foot through the door. Levi though, there might be hope for him. Maybe supervised visitation.

The little guy begins to wake and a soft smile spreads across my face watching as Levi leans down into the crib and scoops him into his arms. The baby instantly begins to cry and Levi’s face fills with a sick, panicked fear. “Oh, fuck,” he rushes out before thrusting the baby right into my arms as though I’m supposed to know any better.

It hasn’t even been a full day yet, and already I’m so attached. It’s not hard to understand why Roman insisted that I’ll want to be in his life as some form of motherly figure. I just gotta figure out how to hold him without him screeching like a banshee.

I panic and Roman saves me, taking the baby into his capable arms and watching as he calms. “Hey there, little man,” Roman says as the baby stretches in his arms and immediately snuggles into his hold, soaking up the affection as though he’s been starved of it. “Do you need a bottle?”

My heart legit melts, like holy fuck, but side note, how does he do that?

I thought seeing the boys in uniform was the most delicious thing I’d ever seen, but apparently watching them care for this sweet, innocent baby is what really gets me. At least, watching Roman like this does. If Marcus were to pick him up, I’d probably die of fear.

The baby begins to cry and Roman gently sways as I hurry across the room and quickly scoop up the bottle we’d made just before striding in here as though we knew what the hell we were doing. I pop the lid and hand him the bottle, watching as Roman effortlessly glides the teat into the baby’s mouth.

He sucks hard and his eyes close in satisfaction before going to town on the bottle.

My fingers brush over his head, feeling the soft hairs beneath my skin. “Have you figured out his name yet?”

Roman shakes his head. “I have no fucking idea,” he says. “Normal parents get nine months’ notice to think of the perfect name, but I’ve had literally one day. It’s too much pressure. What if I choose something that sounds kind of cool for a kid, but as an adult, would have people thinking he’s a douche? I don’t want that for my kid.” He pauses and looks up at me with a terrified stare, something I don’t think I’ve ever seen from him. “What if I fuck up my kid?”

I shake my head. “Look at you, Roman. Look how much you already care for him. You’re a natural at this and he can sense that. I don’t think it’s possible for you to fuck this up. You’re going to make a great Father to him. Hell, I’m jealous. My father was awful, and so was yours. You know what a shitty parent looks like, so you know exactly what not to do.”

Roman’s lips press into a tight line as his gaze drops back to the baby, watching him take big gulps of his milk as though he can’t possibly get enough. “You sure about that?” he questions, taking a heavy breath.

“Positive,” I tell him before looking back at the boys. “Actually, while you’re all here, there’s something I wanted to run by you.”

Marcus narrows his stare, already suspicious. “Last time you said you wanted to talk, you dropped a fucking ‘I’m gonna marry your bitch of a brother’ bomb on my ass. This better not be like that.”

A grin cuts across my face and I laugh, moving across the room to stand directly between them all so I can see the three of them at the same time. “No, it’s definitely not that,” I tell him, hoping to somehow relieve the panic soaring through his chest. “It kinda occurred to me that we don’t really have a home,” I tell them. “I don’t want to live at the castle because for ten years, that was your prison, and with how much you’ve all seemed to keep away, I don’t think you want to be there either. Then there’s the DeAngelis mansion and well …” my gaze drops away and my voice lowers. “That’s where your father—”

“I know,” Levi says, his voice soothing and making me feel alright again. “That’s where he abused us too.”

I nod. “I don’t want to live there either, which only leaves here, in the Moretti residence, but I’m just not sure how you guys might feel about that.” I glance toward Levi again, my gaze drifting toward his scarred chest that’s covered with clothing. “I know you’ve got particularly nasty memories of being here. Not to mention this was the home of your enemy for so long. If you guys aren’t cool with it, then I’ll push the idea aside, no questions asked, but I guess … I wondered how you felt about making this our home?”

Marcus leans back against the crib, crossing his ankles as he watches me carefully. “What do you want, Shayne? Do you actually want to live here, or is this just the lesser of three evils?”

“I …” I pause, shrugging my shoulders as I truly think about it. “I mean, I guess I don’t really know. This home is beautiful, but every time I walk through the foyer, I see Gia’s face right before I shot down the chandelier.”

“Then this isn’t your home,” Marcus says just as Roman’s phone rings and he awkwardly adjusts the baby to pull it out of his pocket. He’s been waiting for Mick’s call, telling us that he’s got something, but judging by the disappointment on his face, I can only assume that the number flashing on his screen is anyone but Mick.

Roman strides toward the door, bringing the phone to his ear. “You better have good news for me,” he says, his voice fading away as he moves further down the hall, the baby happy to go along for the stroll.

“What’s that all about?” I question, watching as they shrug their shoulders, not caring to get involved in Roman’s business, not that he’d actually care to share unless it had something to do with them or me. Anything else is his business.

Marcus keeps his stare on me and my brows furrow, watching him back. “What?” I say slowly.

His lips press into a hard line as though he’s concocting some sort of top-secret plan. “What if we didn’t live at any of those places?” he throws out. “I mean, we’ll have to choose one and stay there for a bit, but what if we completely knocked down the home that Roman built and re-do it as our own?”

My brows instantly shoot up, my back straightening as my eyes widen with hope. “Are … can … is that even possible? Like, can we do that?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see why not. Roman built it once before, why can’t he do it again? We can all put in the things that we want, and Roman can design it around that. Besides, it looks like he’s got some sleepless nights in his future, so it’ll give him a project to work on.”

“What will he say about this?”

“What would who say about what?” Roman questions, striding back into the room with the baby up over his shoulder and his phone slipped away into his pocket. He rubs the baby’s back, and I grin as the little dude lets out an almighty burp. “We were just discussing the possibility of maybe knocking down what was left of the home you built and rebuilding it, making it our new home.”

Roman stops in the middle of the room, his hand pausing on the baby’s back. His eyes widen slightly as he turns to take me in, looking a little unsure. “You’d want that?” he questions. “You don’t want to live here?”

“I want to live where you guys are, in a home that doesn’t harbor secrets and lies, somewhere we can all feel safe and allow the baby to grow and run without fearing that someone could sneak onto the property and hurt him, and somewhere none of us have been brutally tortured.”

His lips start pulling into a wide grin. “You’re sure?” he questions. “Because I’ve been thinking about rebuilding that thing ever since it burned down, but if you really want it, I’ll start putting plans into place.”

“I really want it,” I tell him, moving into him and pushing up onto my tippy toes to brush my lips over his. “I only have one requirement … No, two. Two requirements.” Roman watches, his brow arching with impatience. “I want a sex room,” I tell him. “Nothing creepy or anything like that … actually, maybe that’s a shitty idea. I mean, what am I supposed to tell people when I give them the grand tour ‘and this is where I get thoroughly fucked.’ No, that can’t happen.”

Marcus scoffs, a smirk resting on his lips. “Dare I ask your second requirement?”

A hunger spreads through me, heating me from the inside out as I glance across the room to Levi, watching the way he reads the hunger in my eyes for exactly what it is. “I want drums in every fucking room.”

Marcus and Roman just stare, not understanding the fascination, but Levi … he gets it. He groans low and I bite down on my bottom lip, just thinking of all the fun we could have with all those drum sets.

Roman shakes his head. “No way in hell am I having drums in every room, we’d never have a moment of silence. What if we just had them in every main living area, but no dining rooms or bathrooms, and definitely not in my bedroom.”

I cross my arms over my chest and take a step back, narrowing my eyes. “I see your drums only in living spaces, and I raise you a soft serve machine in the kitchen and a pizza oven … OH, and a popcorn maker for movie night. And can we have bean bags in the theater room? Like those ginormous ones where you practically disappear when you jump into them. OH!” I add, the excitement quickly taking control. “And a slide into the pool? Wouldn’t that be awesome? I’ve always dreamed about having a pool.”

“Okay,” Levi laughs, moving across the room and pulling me into his arms, his chest pressed against my back. He leans down and presses his lips to my temple. “Would you prefer if you just made the designs with Roman?”

My eyes bug out of my head and I gape at him before turning my stare on Roman, positive that he’s going to shut down the idea before it even gets started. My heart races with excitement, quickly building higher with every passing moment. “Is that … Can I? Would you mind?”

“Would I mind?” Roman laughs. “I’d like nothing more than to build a home with you.”

Warmth spreads through my chest, mixing with the pure joy that already resides. “I don’t think you have any idea what you just got yourself into.”

His phone rings again and he sighs, digging into his pocket again. “Hold that thought,” he tells me before his back stiffens and he turns toward his brothers, watching them intently. “Mick, talk to me.”

Silence fills the room except for the soft coos of the baby. It feels like a lifetime passes before Roman ends the call and tells us exactly what we’ve been waiting for. “We’ve got him.”

36

A light shower rains down over the deserted street, the sole street light casting a glow across the cracked pavement. We’re well out of the city now, in bum-fuck nowhere with nothing but ourselves to watch out for.

We sit in the black Escalade, covered in shadows with the headlights turned off, watching the rundown motel across the street.

This is it.

Giovanni DeAngelis paces in front of the window, moving back and forth, over and over again with the dim room lighting casting his shadow against the old curtains.

The second we got the call from Mick, we made our move. We weren’t letting the asshole get away again. We got our intel, got his location, and quickly learned that he was alone. He has nothing; no guards, no children held hostage to use against us. Just him and justice waiting to be served.

Fuck, I can’t wait. I feel as though I’ve been waiting for this moment since the second he stormed into the castle and demanded I strip for him. He’s nothing but an egotistical pig who thinks way too highly of himself, but without his army of guards at his back, without his precious DeAngelis mafia ready to back him up, and without the fear of his threats hanging over our heads, he’s nothing but tonight’s entertainment.

This is going to be good.

The things he did to me, the things he forced me into, the pain and suffering he’s caused, it’s all going to come to an end. No other woman will suffer at his hands, no other child will bear the scars of his abuse. There’s no amount of pain we can inflict on him that would ever make up for the torment he’s rained down over the people closest to him, but we’re sure as hell going to try.

I bet the asshole is pacing back and forth, trying to figure out how he’s going to see this through, how he’s going to rise again, how he’s going to put himself back at the top of the food chain. I bet he’s panicking, bet he’s frothing at the mouth with fear. After all, only a pussy would have run from that mansion after strapping a bomb to his child’s nursemaid. He knew we were coming, knew we were going to defeat him, and he was a bitch who slipped away, too scared to face the wrath of what he’d done.

Not anymore. It ends here.

If he knew we were just outside, ready and waiting to make our move, I’m sure he would run. He would slip his bitch ass through the small bathroom window and make a break for it, but he thinks he’s safe, thinks he’s gotten away with something. Proving him wrong is going to be the highlight of my night.

I can’t wait to see the fear in his eyes. This is going to be one of those sweet bedtime stories that I’m going to share with the baby, and he’s going to grow, learning of the wonders of this night, and knowing every damn moment of it was nothing short of perfection.

I mean, does that make me a bad sort-of-mom? Maybe telling him bedtimes stories about murdering his rapist sperm-donor isn’t exactly a decision other Moms would make. Though, I can’t say other Moms are really in our unique situation with two psychopathic uncles who thrive on bloodlust and a Father who can snap a neck in two seconds flat.

Yeah, there’s no doubt about it. This child is going to be raised in Roman’s image and hone that same incredible skill set to ensure he thrives when it comes his time to rule over the DeAngelis mafia. And I don’t doubt that it will happen. I’m sure of it. He will rise just as the boys have. However, he will do it with warmth in his heart and pride for his family, and when that day comes, the boys will happily hand him the reins knowing he will take this family to new heights. Though, he sure as fuck has big shoes to fill.

By the time this baby is grown and taking over, the boys will have taken the DeAngelis family to heights they never thought possible. They’re going to exceed the expectations of the Moretti family and dominate. They will be the most powerful family in the world and nothing can change my mind.

“Alright,” Levi says. “We’ve got the drop on him. He doesn’t know we’re here. Let’s take our shot before he decides to look out the window.”

Not gonna lie, the guy has a good fucking point.

My hand curves into the small door lever, and I pop it open, holding my breath as if that’s going to somehow make the sound of the car door opening any less loud. I mean, damn. It sounds like a fucking gunshot in the night.

I gently close the door, holding up the handle as I push it closed before carefully releasing the lever, a smile pulling at my lips remembering how I’d done this exact thing when the baby had his first sleep after getting him home.

We left him at home, obviously. I mean, we’re not the world’s most experienced baby watchers, but we’re not about to drag him to his first murder at such a young age. We might wait a few years before corrupting his little mind. At least, I know most of us will. Marcus on the other hand … I’m not so sure about that one.

We left the baby in the care of our new nanny with strict instructions to the Moretti men remaining at the mansion to watch her with a keen eye. While she’s already proven to be some kind of epic baby whisperer, she’s still someone I haven’t learned to trust yet.

Slipping through the silent night, we keep to the shadows, moving around the sole street light as the rain kisses my skin. We hurry across the cracked pavement, our black hoodies pulled high over our heads. Roman and Marcus slip deeper into the night before taking off at a run down the side alley, out of sight, out of mind, while Levi and I stick like glue to the side of the building.

Giovanni is up on the second level of the rundown motel, and to be honest, it seems like a risky move. If he needed to make a quick getaway, a ground level room would have been more appropriate. But who am I to judge the actions of men who should know better?

Gripping on to the handle of the old metal staircase, I launch myself up them two at a time. Levi follows closely on my heels, and my heart hammers erratically, despite knowing just how simple this is going to be. The idea of seeing his face again has haunted me since the night he stole what innocence I had left, and now, I’ll be taking whatever pathetic shreds of life he holds on to.

I can’t wait. It’s like going to the circus for the first time and not knowing what to expect. The blood rushes through my veins, pumping adrenaline and making my heart race with excitement. My hands shake and I feel jittery, but right now, I feel more alive than when the boys are buried deep inside of me.

Tonight, Giovanni DeAngelis becomes our bitch.

Despite skipping the steps two at a time, Levi beats me to the top, somehow managing to do it in complete silence while I sound like a fucking truck bogged down in wet concrete. We hit the top level and I keep close on his heels as we propel ourselves around the corner and disappear into the shadows of the building.

All the other rooms seem somewhat deserted, but we keep quiet anyway, not willing to risk giving ourselves away at such a crucial time. We creep toward the door with the number 14 plastered on the front.

The curtains are doing a shit job of keeping him concealed and cast a dim glow across the pavement in front of his room. He’s still pacing, and as we position ourselves in front of his door, I can’t help but glance up at Levi to find that same twisted excitement shining through his eyes.

He grins down at me and damn it, why do I want to fuck him so bad right now?

Time and place, Shayne, and this seriously isn’t it.

Don’t think about drums. Don’t think about drums. Don’t think about drums.

Without wasting another second, Levi brings his heavy boot up and slams it against the cheap wooden door. It splinters perfectly under his force, flying off the hinges and sailing right into the room. We storm through the small opening just as Giovanni spins around, his eyes wide.

His hand automatically goes for a gun, but the fuckhead has left it on the nightstand across the room, but I suppose that’s what you expect from a man who has never dealt with his own dirty work.

We’ve barely even made our move and the asshole is already cornered. Giovanni stands in front of the bed, just a few steps away from the bathroom, and without a moment of hesitation, he takes off like a bat out of hell.

Levi doesn’t even bother going after him as Roman and Marcus stride out of the bathroom, smug, shit-eating grins wide on their faces. Giovanni skids to a halt, his eyes wide with fear as he quickly backs up, desperately searching for some other way out, but he’s got nowhere to go. We have him completely surrounded, and my heart has never been so happy.

“Well, well,” Roman says from behind him as he begins to back up against the wall, putting himself in a position to see each of us at the same time. “You certainly are a hard man to track down. Hard—” he continues, “but not impossible.”

Color drains from Giovanni’s face and panic flares from his eyes as we all begin to creep toward him. “You’re going to regret this,” he spits.

Marcus howls with laughter. “Regret, Father? Was it not you who taught us to regret nothing? Congratulations, all your hard learned lessons are about to pay off. We’re exactly what you created us to be.”

His gaze snaps to me, fury boiling in his eyes. “YOU. This is all your doing. If you hadn’t corrupted their minds with your bullshit, they’d be the perfect soldiers. Now they’re nothing but lap dogs,” Giovanni spits at me and I laugh.

“Oh, my wicked little husband, your sons would have destroyed you with or without me. Don’t pretend like you haven’t seen this coming for years. It was only a matter of time, but now that time has come, and there’s nothing standing in our way. You’ve abused them all their lives, you locked them up and tormented them in the worst ways, but now, the tables have turned and all that pent up aggression and rage they feel toward you is finally going to be set free. I’d prepare myself if I were you,” I taunt, “because until the moment they finally bless you with death, you’re going to experience the most excruciating pain of your life. You’re going to beg for death, you’re going to weep for forgiveness, and you’re going to regret ever crossing your sons.”

And with that, Marcus moves toward his father, his fist cracking out like lightning and knocking him out cold. He spins around, a grin ripping across his face as he takes in his cracked knuckles, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Oooh, that felt good.”

Giovanni hangs in the padded cell that Levi was held captive in only a few short nights ago. His body hangs limply and I’m not going to lie, there’s already a foul stench coming off him. If we had our own way, we would have driven back out to the castle to use the boys’ playground. It’s filled with all the finest toys, and I’m sure the boys would have enjoyed using every single one of them, but that’s an extra two hours away and we simply couldn’t wait to get our hands on him.

Levi steps forward with a bucket of ice water and throws it at his father, watching with a satisfied smirk at the way Giovanni gasps and his head snaps up. His eyes widen with fear as he pulls against his binds and I see the very moment he realizes that this wasn’t some fucked-up dream.

“Ahh,” Marcus says, casually leaning against the back wall, a knife flipping between his fingers. “So nice of you to join us.” He pushes off the wall and slowly walks toward his father. “You just know how much I love doing things as a family. Good times.”

Giovanni spits at him. “I will end you, boy. Release me now.”

“Even in death, you think you hold power over us,” Marc muses. “It’s nice to see that some things never change.”

“The family won’t stand for this,” Giovanni growls, anger flashing in his eyes as he pulls against the binds again. “They’ll have your heads for this and they won’t stop until you’re buried, your little bitch too.”

Marc laughs and moves in closer to his face before pointing to the small space above the door. “You mean the family who gave their full support?” he questions before sending a cheesy as fuck grin toward the camera. “Say hi, they’re all watching. The Morettis too. It’s like their own personal snuff film, though I have to admit, it’s a lot of pressure, all those eyes on us. But don’t worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve. I’m sure they’ll be thoroughly entertained.”

Roman stands by my side, looking bored with Marcus’ theatrics, but I know deep down he’s getting a wicked kick out of it, just as I am. “Come on, brother. There’s only so long I will wait before stepping in.”

Marcus tsks him, holding up a finger and wagging it at him. “Now, now, Roman. Play fair. You know the rules,” he taunts. “The laws of rock, paper, scissors must be upheld.”

Roman rolls his eyes and Marcus turns his attention back to his father. “Do you remember when I was six? That was the first time you beat me black and blue. For what? Mouthing off like every kid is supposed to do.” Marcus’ fist slams into Giovanni’s gut, winding him, and the sound is like music to my ears. He hits him again, his fist striking out across his jaw and colliding with his face with the force of a freight train, knocking his teeth right out of his mouth.

Marcus laughs, getting the sickest enjoyment out of this, and all I can do is smile. It’s such a precious moment. I hope he pressed record on the live stream because there’s no doubt in my mind that he’ll want to watch this back.

Giovanni spits a mouthful of blood at Marcus and Marcus just laughs a little louder. “I’m surprised father, you’ve always been so put together. Surely you’re not going to resort to spitting now?”

He walks around him and Giovanni keeps his stare straight ahead, refusing to let Marcus break him, but it won’t be long. He'll be nothing but a shell before Marcus is even close to handing him over to Levi.

Marcus moves back in front of his father. “What about when I was eight and I found that stray puppy?” he says, a hint of anger in his obsidian eyes. The tip of his knife presses to Giovanni’s stomach, and I catch my breath, watching with wide eyes. “He had a broken leg and I nursed him back to health. He was the first thing I loved and you held a knife to my throat while forcing me to snap his neck. It gutted me,” Marcus says. “Do you know what that felt like?”

Without waiting for a response, Marcus slowly pushes against the knife, piercing through his stomach. Giovanni cries out in agony while Marcus relentlessly keeps going, his positioning perfect. Deep enough to cause the worst kind of agony, but not enough for him to bleed out before we’ve had our fun.

What can I say? Marcus is a gentleman like that.

Marcus goes on, tormenting his father in the worst way, burning him like he’d been burned, cutting him like he had been. Every foul memory living in the darkest parts of Marcus’ mind are recreated and freed from ever tormenting him again.

Forty-five minutes pass before Giovanni is black and blue and the true horror of what Marcus has suffered at his father’s hands comes to light. My heart shatters for him, but with each passing second, Marcus holds his head higher, the weight lifting off his shoulders.

Marcus steps aside, knowing if he doesn’t stop now, he’ll end up killing him before his brothers have had their chance to experience that same sense of relief. His eyes sparkling like it’s Christmas morning, he asks, “Who’s up next?”

Levi’s tongue rolls over his bottom lip, his eyes darkening with murderous rage. He walks over to his father and just stares at him, his shoulders pulled back with pride. “You never held the power to break us,” he tells him. “You tried. Fuck, did you try, but you never succeeded. All you did was ensure that when the time came, we were more than capable to see it through. You didn’t just create soldiers, you turned us into weapons to use at your beck and call, but what’s the first rule of playing with weapons, Father? Be sure of your target and what’s beyond it. You were always our target, right from the start, and you were too damn self-involved to see it.”

“Out of everything you want to say, boy,” Giovanni spits. “That’s the best you could come up with? You were never going to be strong enough for this life. You’re weak.”

He doesn’t waste any more time before reaching up and releasing the chains that hold him up. Giovanni falls heavily to the ground, his bloodied body sprawling out as Marcus and Roman move in with heavy restraints. They’re placed over Giovanni’s wrists and ankles, and just like that, Giovanni is nothing but a demon with his wings pinned.

Levi settles himself over his father’s chest, his knees on either side of Giovanni’s face, those strong thighs making it impossible for Giovanni to turn away. And damn, I can’t say he’s ever sat on me like that, but I just know Giovanni’s lungs are threatening to give out under the weight.

“That’s just your issue, Father,” Levi laughs, pulling a short dagger from the sheath at his side. “You’ve never seen us for what we are, but don’t worry. We’ve always seen you.” He leans forward, the tip of the knife dragging across his skin and leaving a trail of blood. “You’ve always been so blind to the world around you, but a blind man does not need his eyes to see.”

And just like that, the tip of the sharp dagger hits his eye.

Levi digs into his socket, the knife working its magic as Giovanni screams out, the blood-curdling sound sending shivers crawling across my skin. Blood pours from his eye as Levi severs the ligaments and muscles attaching his eye to his face, and after getting bored with the knife, he throws it aside and replaces it with his fingers.

He pries his eyeball right out of his head as his father screams, and I swear that Levi doesn’t even hear it. It’s as though he’s so taken with his task at hand that the rest of the world has fallen away, and I don’t blame him.

A moment passes when Levi stands off his father’s chest and holds the bloodied eyeball up to the light, a grin stretching across his face, pride settling into his handsome face. He nods to himself, as if completely satisfied and as he goes to toss the eyeball aside, a gasped squeak tears from the back of Marcus’ throat.

Levi glances up at him to see his hand outstretched and a pleading desperation in his eyes. Levi sighs and tosses him the eyeball and Marcus scoops it out of the air before grinning manically and slipping the fucking thing straight into his pocket.

“That’s it?” Roman questions as Levi falls back beside me. Levi nods and Roman grunts. “Huh, figured you’d be throwing punches for hours.”

Levi shrugs before his eyes bug out of his head and he rushes forward before Roman gets a chance to take over. Levi crouches down and tears the family rings off his father’s fingers. “You won’t be needing these,” he says, looking all too smug. I don’t really understand the significance of the rings, but where Levi is involved, I’m sure it’s just another knife right through the back.

Leaving his father for Roman, Levi moves away and I watch as Roman kicks the heavy restraints off his father’s wrists and ankles. The fucker curls into a ball, gripping on to the worsening wounds at his waist, courtesy of Marcus.

Roman scoffs, looking down at the sight before him. “Pathetic.”

He shakes his head, and I can practically see all the comments on the end of his tongue, yet none of them are worthy of being voiced, nothing strong enough to convey his intense disgust. So instead of giving a whole spiel about how his father has fucked with his life since the moment he could walk, Roman simply reaches for the heavy chain dangling from the ceiling.

He pulls it down and binds his wrists before nodding toward Marcus, who hits a button. The chains immediately begin retracting, lifting Giovanni up until his feet are dangling above the blood-soaked ground.

Giovanni stares back at his eldest son through his one remaining eye, not even having the energy to spit at him. Blood trails down his face and I’m pretty damn sure he pissed his pants, but the way he looks at Roman, it’s clear that he fears him most. Marcus is unhinged in the most brutal ways and Levi … Levi is as fucked as they come, but Roman … Roman plays the game. Roman is the silent one, always thinking, always planning. He’s ruthless.

“You’re done taking from me,” Roman tells him. “Ariana. Felicity. Shayne. You took them from me and you poisoned them with yourself, but you underestimated Shayne. She can’t be held down, and the only reason why I haven’t ended your life yet is because I think she deserves it more.”

Giovanni’s eye flickers toward me and I’m met with nothing but fear. “Have you heard the news, father? The priest accidentally fucked up the paperwork. She was never yours. It’s funny how easy it is to make just the slightest amendment to a marriage certificate. Though, I guess I’ve got you to thank for that. If you weren’t so egotistical in giving me your name, it might not have been so easy.”

Giovanni’s face falls, realizing exactly what we’ve been up to, but Roman’s not nearly done twisting the blade in his back. “You made the biggest mistake of your life the day you set your vile sights on her. Look at her, look how she shines. You didn’t break her, you only made her realize just how fucking strong she is. Shayne’s going to take your life and then she’s going to be worshipped as the leader of the Moretti empire for the rest of her life. She holds the power, and you will die knowing that everything you worked toward, everything you poisoned with your venom was all for nothing.”

Roman laughs and takes a step back before pulling his gun. He lets off two perfect shots and I jump with the suddenness, the sound booming through my chest. Giovanni cries out, heavy groans and whimpers filling the room as both his knees bleed.

Roman doesn’t outright grin like his brothers had done, but I see the sick enjoyment in his eyes, and it gets me hot. There’s nothing like these men when they’re in the zone.

He walks across the room to a small table and scans over the selection of tools he placed there a little over an hour ago. He glances back at his father and considers his condition, knowing that whatever he does to him has to leave his heart beating, and if I’m completely honest, if I don’t get to hear him scream when I put my hands on him, I’m going to be pissed.

Roman picks up sharp needle-like pins, at least thirty centimeters long while also reaching for a hammer. I don’t see how many of the needle pins he grabs, but I hear the metal in his hands and know there’s got to be at least four of them.

Stepping up in front of his father, he places the pins at his feet, keeping just one in his hand and the hammer in his other. He scans over his father’s naked torso, looking past the wounds Marcus left behind. “I’m not going to lie, Father. This isn’t going to be comfortable but please, be a good sport and try not to move.”

Then without a second of hesitation, he presses the tip to his father’s skin, directly between his ribs and slams the hammer against the end. The pin pierces through his skin and Roman hammers it again, letting the pin perforate his lung.

A giddy satisfaction tears through me and I peek toward Marcus and Levi who both watch with cocky, delighted grins on their handsome faces. I’ve seen the boys do some really fucked-up things, but this is a whole new level of twisted.

The pin protrudes from his body and even the slightest flinch would have agony tearing through his body. But Roman DeAngelis has never been the type to stop after one, trust me, I know.

He scoops another pin off the ground and presses it to the hollow just beneath his shoulder before going ham on his ass. The pin pierces through his shoulder and Roman keeps going until he sees the bloodied tip from his father’s back.

Pin number three goes through his thigh while the fourth and final goes horizontally through his waist, starting above his left hip and piercing through to the right. It’s a masterpiece, absolutely brilliant.

Considering himself thoroughly satisfied, Roman turns and meets my eyes. “You ready?”

I stare at him in wonder. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard when we’re done here.”

“Damn straight, you will.”

And with that, Roman steps aside and lets me at him.

37

Slipping my hand into big, thick rubber gloves and pulling them right up to my shoulders, I get myself ready to stare down the man who abused the boys, the man who caused them insufferable pain, murdered their mother, and stole from them for years. The man who locked them up and nearly slaughtered them on the lawn outside their family home.

This is the man who’s raped multiple woman, slaughtered Ariana’s family, forced her into a loveless marriage, and stole her away from Roman, breaking his heart for the first time. The man who forced himself on Felicity, who got her pregnant and locked her in a cell where she birthed her child in fear and bled out. The man who sold countless women and children into slavery, and the man who then forced himself on me.

He tried to own me like he’s done in the past, tried to destroy me and plague my heart with fear, but he picked the wrong bitch to fuck with.

He hangs limply, pins sticking out all over his body, gaping bullet holes where his knees used to be, stab wounds, and a missing eye. And honestly, he’s never looked so good. At least, through my eyes.

Giovanni doesn’t have the energy to lift his head, but something tells me that when it comes down to it, he’ll find whatever energy he needs to settle that raging need for anguish inside my chest.

Picking up my tool, I stride across the padded cell and grin at the fucker. “Well, hello there. Fancy meeting you down here,” I say. “I trust your stay has been welcoming.”

A deep growl tears through his chest and I laugh, searching the area around me. “You’ll have to forgive me, I have so many things and nowhere to put them,” I say, before looping the handle of the big scissors over the pin protruding from his ribs. I drop their weight against it and smile sweetly and he growls with agony. “Ahhh, yes. This is perfect.”

I step in nice and close before gripping the front of his pants and tearing them open. The loose trousers fall to his ankles and I laugh, looking at the piss stains on the front of his old man boxers. “Ahhh, shit. Good thing I’ve got my gloves on,” I tell him before winking, just to drive the humiliation home. “But it’s okay, I’m sure it happens to everyone.”

Gripping the edges of his boxers, I yank them down and expose his limp cock, not at all impressed with what I’m seeing. Though, I already knew that. I wasn’t impressed then, and I’m sure as hell not impressed now. “Wow, you really don’t have much in common with your sons, huh?” I ask, because why the hell not insult the size of his dick? “It’s okay, between you and me, it’s not like you’re going to have much use for it anymore.”

I go to grab it when it occurs to me that I really don’t have much experience in this area. I whip around, meeting Marcus’ heavy stare, and damn, the way he’s looking at me, might just have me postponing this little adventure. But I won’t dare. We’ve more than learned our lesson about following through. If I don’t do this right now, there’s a good chance when we return, one of his loyal followers would have figured out how to bust his stupid ass out of here, and that simply won’t do.

Marcus arches his brow, wondering what I could possibly need. “If I just like … chop it off, is he going to bleed out too fast?”

Marcus nods and holds his hand up, making a tight circle between his fingers. “Clamp that thing like a cock ring and you shouldn’t have any issues, plus you won’t get as drenched in blood.”

I give him a wide smile and bat my lashes, feeling all the love in the world. “Thanks.”

Marcus winks and I turn back to Giovanni. “Well, I can’t say that I’ve really gone fishing through Gia’s bedside drawers but something tells me that she’s a boring fuck, so we’re probably shit outta luck with the whole cock ring thing,” I tell him. “But never you mind, I’m crafty at the best of times.”

Reaching up, I pull the hair elastic out of my hair and a shiver sails down my spine at the feel of the thick rubber moving against my hair. I hold his dick up and tie the elastic around it before deciding a second loop is needed. It sure ain’t pretty, but it’ll do.

Giovanni grunts and I laugh. “What’s the matter, lover? I thought you liked it rough?” I question. “But just between you and me, if you hadn’t touched me, I would have found some other way to end you. You could have died with your manhood right where it’s supposed to be, but I don’t belong to you, and men that touch what isn’t theirs need to be taught a lesson, even if they won’t be around to right their wrongs.”

I flick the end of his tip, checking the blood flow and smirk as he flinches, making each of the pins adjust inside his body. I wait a moment for the elastic to do its thing and smile up at the asshole, playing his own twisted game. “Hickory dickory dock,” I grin. “Giovanni’s losing his cock.”

Marcus muffles a laugh behind me, and I glance back over my shoulder meeting his stare again, my brows bouncing with smugness, and hell, if that makes me just as unhinged as he is, then so be it.

Roman crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall, ready to watch his father perish, a bored expression on his chiseled face while Levi’s hands fidget at his sides, the anticipation slowly killing him.

Turning back to Giovanni, I unhook the scissors from the pin sticking out between his ribs and slip my fingers into the holes. “Just so you know,” I whisper, meeting his one-eyed terrified stare. “I’m going to take this nice and slow.”

Gripping his dick, I open the scissors and press the cold metal against the base of his cock. After all, I want to get as much of it as I possibly can if it’s going to have a special space up on my trophy shelf that Roman will no doubt build for me.

Giovanni sucks in a breath, his eye wide and filled with unshed tears and fear, and with that, I get this show on the road. I squeeze down on the scissors, watching the sharp blades dig into his flesh. Giovanni screams and it’s like the sweetest music to my ears.

Blood pours and I cringe. Perhaps I should have waited a little longer for the elastic to do its thing, but hell, I have gloves. Reopening the scissors, I go again and again, and while the blades are sharp, I still need a few tries to get through the flesh and muscle.

It’s a hack job at best, but it’s the best fun I’ve ever had, and when his cock finally comes free in my hand, his balls still sadly attached, I glance up to find his face white as a ghost and on the brink of passing out. He’s not going to last much longer and a part of me hates that it will happen so quickly. The whole point of the elastic was so I could drag this out, but it is what it is.

Turning around, I meet Roman’s eyes before sending the amputated dick hurtling through the air. “Think quick.”

His reflexes have his hand snapping out and catching the dick midair before his face pales and he throws it at Marcus, who clearly has no issues holding his father’s limp cock. “Fucking hell, babe. Not cool,” he says, his face scrunching in disgust. “Now I’m going to have to shower.”

“Wait,” I say, pausing as I stare at him in concern. “You weren’t planning on showering after this? And you were going to let me fuck you? Gross, Roman.”

He rolls his eyes and lets out a huff, probably with a smartass comment on the tip of his tongue, but Marcus laughs and holds the bloody cock up against Roman’s forehead. “Look, babe. Roman really is a dickhead.”

Roman’s fist has never moved faster. He lands a brutal punch to Marcus’ jaw, sending him flying across the room, but he doesn’t dare drop the dick. I go to bitch out Roman but he’s already across the padded cell, hurling his guts up into a basin, a splatter of blood across his forehead.

I shake my head and turn back to Giovanni as the boys right themselves. “To be honest,” I say to the guys, “I haven’t really put much thought into anything further than cutting off his dick, but it feels wrong to take the kill when you all deserve it so much more.”

Levi moves into my back, his hands at my waist and he breathes me in, the smell of blood in the air. “What do you want to do? The call is yours.”

All my options fly through my head as I watch Giovanni beginning to bleed out. He’s weak and there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to fight back at this point. A kill from the boys almost seems merciful, too easy. “Dill,” I finally say, remembering the day I ran after him into the woods around the DeAngelis mansion. “He deserves to get a piece of him too.”

Levi nods and steps away from me. “Consider it done.”

Levi moves out of the cell and I watch him walk toward the small elevator. He presses the button and within moments, he’s gone.

Moving across the room, I pull the big black gloves off my arms and drop them to the ground before putting myself in front of Roman. I take his hand in mine and shake my head as I find his knuckles split and a trail of blood trickling down the length of his skilled fingers. “You know, I hate that you’ve probably bruised Marc’s pretty little face, but you know how the violence turns me on.”

Roman grips my chin, his fingers biting into my skin, and before I can even catch my breath, his mouth is crushing down on mine in a bruising, dominant kiss. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I plaster my body up against his, feeling his cock hardening against my waist.

I hear Marcus moving behind us just as the soft ding of the elevator sounds Levi’s return. Roman breaks our kiss and I turn to find Giovanni in a broken heap on the ground as Levi strides into the cell with Dill on one side and Doe on the other.

Dill growls at seeing the man who put a bullet through his hip, and I watch as Levi makes a hand gesture that has Doe sitting at his side. Dill’s growls become more vicious and without having to tell the giant wolf why he’s here, he’s already figured it out. “Dill,” I say, gaining his attention as I stand back, giving him space to work. “He’s all yours.”

And just like that, Dill attacks, his ferocious sharp teeth snapping into Giovanni’s flesh like a vise and tearing him into ribbons. Blood splatters wildly across the room, as gurgled cries tear through the cell. His arm is torn clean off his body and not a moment later, Dill tears out his throat, his teeth piercing straight through the artery.

Blood spurts, and not a moment later, Giovanni DeAngelis is dead.

38

Stepping out of my bathroom, I curl my hair up into a bun and secure it with a clip. It wasn’t easy getting all of that blood out of my hair, but now that I have, I feel a million times better. I grab my champagne-colored silk robe and slip my arms inside before tying it loosely at my waist, a smile playing on my lips.

Giovanni DeAngelis is dead.

Roman, Levi, and Marcus are the leaders of the DeAngelis mafia family.

And I … a shiver tracks down my spine. I mean, technically I know how I became the leader of the Moretti family, but HOW THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN? It’s going to take me a long time to wrap my head around this one and become okay with it all. On the plus side, I will never have to starve again or worry about the electricity going out in the dead of winter.

The guys disappeared to shower and I’m almost certain that Marcus sped through his just to give himself a few extra minutes to prop his father’s dick up in a display case. Though at some point, he’s going to have to show me how to preserve this shit, especially if this is the way our lives are going to continue.

Padding out of my room, I venture downstairs and into the main living room before finding my way toward the bar. The boys are bound to be a minute longer. Roman went to check on the baby while Marcus is dealing with the floppy dick, and Levi, he just tends to take long showers. I can only imagine what he does in there, and honestly, I’m a little jealous every time I’m not invited.

Today is cause for celebration. The boys have been needing this for so long, way before I was even a thought inside their incredible heads, and after the hell they’ve suffered through, they more than deserve it.

Grabbing myself a champagne flute and a couple of tumblers, I fill them with all of our preferred drinks—only the best champagne for me, the most expensive whiskey for Roman and Marcus, and bourbon for Levi.

I’ve barely finished filling the glass when Levi strides through the door, his eyes coming directly to mine and filling my chest with the kind of warmth that only he and his brothers are capable of. I’ve never known this kind of love. I’ve had plenty of boyfriends and plenty of guys slipping into my bed, but not once did I ever feel the way that they make me feel. I will never give up on that, it’s my addiction, my drug, and I’m all in.

“You good?” he asks, striding toward me, those tattoos peeking out of the top of his shirt and curling up around his strong neck. That just-showered, manly smell wraps around me, and my knees immediately go weak, a heaviness settling into the pit of my stomach, something only he can take away.

“Fine,” I tell him, a slight blush spreading over my cheeks as my pussy begins to throb, needing his touch like never before. I don’t remember a time where we haven’t had bullshit or death threats resting on our shoulders, and now that it’s just me and him, I truly get a chance to enjoy him, and damn it, tell me why the hell I feel so shy?

Levi steps right up to the bar, leaning across to take my chin between his fingers, forcing my stare back to his. “Are you blushing?” he murmurs, his deep tone wrapping around me and holding me hostage. “What have you got to be shy about? I have literally sat in front of you and watched the way you fuck yourself.”

My cheeks redden further and his eyes blaze with desire. I lift my chin higher, silently begging for his kiss. “You like it when my skin reddens under your touch?” I tease.

Levi growls and releases my chin, and not a second later, he propels himself over the bar and plasters his body to mine, taking my waist in his strong, capable hands, my glass of champagne long forgotten. “I fucking love you,” he murmurs. “You know that one of these days, I’m going to lock my brothers in that cell downstairs and have you to myself.”

Raising my chin, I brush my lips over his. “I don’t doubt it,” I tell him. “I might just be the one locking the cuffs into place.”

His lips capture mine and he kisses me deeply, his tongue fighting mine for dominance. I melt into him, my fingers knotting into the front of his shirt as I try to pull him in closer. I feel his heart beating through his chest and it’s all I can do not to reach in and claim it for myself.

Footsteps pad across the room, but I don’t dare take my attention off Levi, taking in his warm caresses against my skin, that manly scent holding me hostage and making a flood appear between my legs. His body is so big pressed up against mine, and I can’t get enough.

I hear a glass sliding along the table and the way it’s immediately slammed back down for more tells me it’s Marcus. I reluctantly pull away to find him reaching for the whiskey and refilling his glass. “I was wondering if you’d come up for air,” he murmurs, lifting his glass to his lips again.

My eyes sparkle as I lean against the bar, the shoulder of my silk gown slipping and exposing the freshly showered skin beneath. “Jealous?” I tease.

He captures my stare and holds it, his eyes darkening with hunger. “Immensely.”

A shiver trails down my body and I groan at the way Levi’s hand finds my ass and squeezes through the flimsy fabric. I press back into his touch as Marcus slowly stands, refusing to release my stare.

He holds me captive as he leans across the bar and I suck in a breath, the anticipation burning through my veins. His fingers brush across my shoulder and a shiver sails down my spine as his lips finally meet mine. He kisses me slowly, gently, and with the kind of passion that has my heart thundering in my chest. Droplets of water remain in his hair from his shower and drip onto my face just as his hand trails up from my shoulder and closes around the base of my throat.

Levi moves in closer, his hand dropping lower down the back of my thigh and bunching up the silk robe between his thick fingers. His fingers brush against my bare skin and I gasp into Marcus’ mouth, groaning as his fingers sail straight back up my inner thigh.

A scoff comes from across the room and Roman’s deep tone caresses my ears. “Couldn’t fucking wait for two seconds.”

I grin against Marcus’ lips and he pulls back before turning to his eldest brother. “You snooze, you lose, bro,” he says, throwing himself over the bar just as Levi’s fingers brush against my core, making me gasp and push back against him, feeling the way he pushes those thick fingers into my cunt.

I bite down on my lip as my eyes roll in the back of my head. “Oh fuck, Levi,” I groan, my approval pushing him deeper. “Yes.”

Marcus moves to my other side, his hand going back to my throat and squeezing just enough to make me catch my breath. He uses his hold to draw me up off the edge of the bar, changing the angle in which Levi’s fingers massage against my inner walls.

Marcus tilts my head back and captures my lips in his once again, this time kissing me deeper, hungrier, with a determination that has a delicious groan sounding from across the room. “Fuck, no,” Roman murmurs, maybe to himself. “Not without me.”

Roman strides across the room, launching himself over the bar just as his brothers had, and if I were in any state to think for myself, I’d probably be scolding them for not using the perfectly good entrance just a few steps away. But I’m not complaining, watching the way their muscles bulge when they do anything even a little athletic gets me wet—much like Levi’s fingers buried deep in my pussy.

A deep hunger settles into my chest as I turn to Marcus and kiss him deeper. His hands skim along the edge of the fabric, roaming down until he reaches the loose knot barely holding the robe together. He gives it a gentle tug and it comes undone like putty in his hands, the silky fabric quickly parting and flowing down off my shoulders.

I let it fall to the floor and not a moment later, I feel Levi’s warm chest against my back. His fingers pull out of me, drawing back to my ass as his head dips to my neck, his mouth closing over my skin. His tongue brushes over the thrumming pulse in my throat before working up to the sensitive skin below my ear. “Be a good girl and spread those pretty thighs,” he murmurs.

Oh, dear God. If Levi brings out his daddy kink to play while both Marcus and Roman are already touching me, I’m going to come before I even let out another breath.

A shudder of raw anticipation trails down my spine, and I groan as I spread my thighs, opening up for them. Roman takes my chin, gently drawing my face to meet his, his eyes narrowed with curiosity as Marcus’ fingers trail down my body, finding my clit and gently brushing over it.

My eyes remain locked on Roman’s while all too focused on the feel of Marcus’ fingers. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Roman questions, his hungry stare eating me up. “When he called you a good girl.”

I hold his stare, letting him see just how worked up his brothers have got me. “Only when I get to call him daddy.”

A grin pulls at Roman’s lips as Levi groans, his chest vibrating against my back, and damn it, my words have his fingers pressing into my ass. I gasp, my breath catching in my throat before a strangled groan tears from deep in my chest.

“Well, damn,” Roman says, his gaze dropping with his hand, trailing down my sensitive skin and brushing over my pebbled nipples. He gives one a gentle squeeze before continuing down and making me suck in a gasp as his fingers tickle my waist.

Marcus moves his hand, making room for Roman as he travels down further. I groan as he pushes between my spread thighs and finds my clit impatiently waiting for his touch. He circles it with his skilled fingers and I grind down against him, needing so much more … needing all three of them.

“Patience, Empress. You’ll get what you want.”

Holy fuck. How do they do this to me?

His voice is like a purr in my ear, filled with the most delicious kind of promises, and I can’t help but turn to him and capture his lips in mine. He kisses me greedily, and I remember the man from down in the cell, the man I’d promised to fuck hard, and I fully intend to come through on that.

Levi pushes into my ass deeper and I can’t help but press back against him, taking more. “You want me to fuck your tight little ass, baby?”

I groan, my eyes rolling as Roman’s fingers dive deeper, pressing up into my cunt, his thumb still working my clit. “You can fuck me any way you want,” I say on a breathy moan, all three of them more than pleased by my answer.

Unbelievable pleasure rocks through me and I grip on to Marcus’ shirt, my fingers knotted for only a brief second before sliding down his rock-hard abs to find his cock. He’s in a pair of sweatpants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination and are no obstacle when getting to what I want.

Pushing his pants down over his hips, his cock springs free, dropping heavily into my hands, and I instinctively roll my tongue over my lips. “Hungry, baby?”

My eyes burn with desire. “Famished.”

“So, what are you waiting for?”

Goddamn.

Holding his stare with mine, I bend at my waist, spreading my legs wider until I feel his tip right at my lips. I open wide and guide him into my mouth, taking all of him until I feel him deep in my throat. He groans, and I roll my tongue over his tip, gripping his shaft with my tight fist.

I start moving up and down, my eyes watering with how deep I take him, and just when I think they have all their bases covered, Levi draws his fingers out of my ass before I feel his cock springing free against my cheek.

I groan as everything clenches, which only forces a soft chuckle out of Roman who can more than feel my excitement. Levi’s fingers slip back under my ass and I feel them push up into my cunt, mixing with my wetness and brushing against Roman’s fingers, stretching me wider, and all too soon, his fingers are back at my ass, making sure I’m good and ready.

He takes my hip with one hand while guiding his cock to my entrance, and I can feel the bead of cum on his tip pressing to my hole. Roman’s fingers slow, curving deep inside of me, slowly massaging and helping me prepare for Levi’s thick intrusion.

I pause bobbing up and down on Marcus as Levi begins to push into me. He stretches me wide, and as I catch my breath, he pushes deeper. Roman’s thumb rubs against my clit, and I let out a breath, relaxing around Levi as my knees shake with anticipation.

Levi begins to move, holding my hips as he takes me deeper then slowly pulls back. I gasp against Marcus’ cock, and with Levi holding me still, Marcus starts to move in and out of my mouth, fucking me exactly how he wants.

They take it easy, fucking me slow and letting me feel every slight movement, every brush of skin against my body, every last stroke. Roman’s fingers curve just right, massaging that spot deep inside of me, and I clench around his fingers as his other hand slowly strokes his own cock, and damn it, if my hands weren’t busy holding me up, I’d be all over it. Though, there’s no denying that watching a man like Roman DeAngelis stroke himself is the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen, and judging by the heated look in his eyes, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

That familiar pull starts to grow deep in my core and my eyes close, the sensation taking over me, but when Levi’s fingers grip my hip harder and his cock presses into me one more time, it’s all fucking over.

My orgasm takes me by surprise, exploding throughout my body. I gasp around Marcus’ thick cock as my ass clenches around Levi’s. Roman’s fingers keep working my G-spot and my eyes roll, the three of them watching me come undone.

My cunt spasms, convulsing and squeezing as Levi slowly draws back and forth, making it all that much more intense. My high pulses through my body, rocketing through my veins and raining havoc over every last nerve ending.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Marcus comes, and that deliciousness hits the back of my throat. I swallow him greedily, taking everything he can give me, sucking hard as he comes undone in my mouth.

He groans my name before slowly pulling out of my mouth and meeting my heated stare, but all too soon, Levi’s hands are curling around my ribs, pulling me back up straight. “I’m not nearly done with you,” he mutters, making my pussy clench as Roman steps directly in front of me.

Levi’s lips fall to my neck as Roman moves in close. “You ready to come through on that promise, Empress?”

A wicked grin stretches across my face as hunger surges through me once again. “Oh, I don’t know if you can handle it,” I tease.

Roman growls deep, his fists squeezing down around his veiny, thick cock. He reaches down, gripping my thigh and hitching it up high and to the side, opening me wide and exposing my most intimate parts while Levi’s strong arm tightens around my ribs, holding me up.

Roman’s tip glides over my clit and I groan as he guides it toward my entrance. Levi pauses his movements, giving us a chance to make this work.

Roman pushes into me and I grip his shoulder, my nails digging in as he stretches me wide, both of their thick cocks filling me to the brim. “Oh, fuck,” I groan, heavy panting taking over as Marcus takes his drink and moves across the living room, his eyes locked heavily on the show, hooded and getting hungrier by the second. I don’t doubt that he’ll be ready for more the second he finds the bottom of his expensive whiskey.

Roman presses deeper just as Levi pulls back. I suck in a breath and Roman meets my eye. “I’m not planning on being gentle.”

I hold his stare, the thrill pulsing through me. “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” Levi groans behind me, and I grip on to Roman’s shoulder tighter as my other hand curls around Levi’s by my ribs, more than ready for a thorough fucking, and that’s exactly what they give me.

Roman begins to move, fucking me hard and Levi matches his pace, one pushing deep inside of me while the other draws back. It’s an erotic dance that has my eyes rolling in my head. “Oh, fuck,” I groan, tipping my head back to Levi’s shoulder as he moves our joined hands up to grip my tit.

He squeezes as Roman adjusts his angle, his new position leaving his pelvic bone to press against my clit. “YES,” I groan, watching Roman’s face, the hunger driving me wild with need.

My pussy throbs, and I notice Marcus from the corner of my eye, his hand slipping inside his sweats as he stares back at me. I shake my head. “Let me watch.”

He fucking grins, his eyes sparkling with an intense, wicked thrill that has everything clenching. That asshole. He knows what that cocky smile does to me. He stands, letting his cock spring free of his sweats and I take him all in. He’s so fucking big—all three of them are. It’s amazing they all fit at once.

Levi grunts, his jaw clenching. “Fuck, babe. Clench that ass one more time and you’re going to tear my cock right off.”

“What can I say?” I grin, looking back at him. “That’s my specialty.”

He growls and just like that, they fuck me even harder until all four of us are coming, the boys shooting hot spurts of cum deep into me as Marcus groans from across the room, his cum spilling out over his hand. My cunt spasms wildly as my orgasm pulses through me, a million times more intense than the first one.

Roman curls his fingers around my neck, bringing my eyes to his as my high rocks through every cell of my body. “That’s right, Empress,” he pants, catching his breath. “Don’t you ever forget how good we give it.”

I lean into his touch, my lips brushing against his wrist. “Not possible.”

Levi gently pulls out of me, and I sag against Roman’s chest, his arms curling around my body and holding me up. He releases my leg but refuses to pull out of me before lifting my ass back onto the bar and slowly moving in and out as he passes me my drink. “You’re my fucking queen,” he tells me as Levi finishes cleaning himself up and moves in beside us, collecting his drink while Marcus comes back over for another refill.

I tip the glass to my lips and take a greedy sip, my body exhausted and worn out, but I’m not going to lie, I’m liking that slow movement from Roman.

I drop my head against his. “I love you,” I murmur, before shifting just a little to take Levi’s hand. “All three of you. I feel like we finally have our shot at living our lives the way we want. There are no threats hanging over our heads, your father is rotting in hell with Gia, and we have the baby. I don’t ever want this to change.”

“It won’t,” Marcus promises, resting his elbows against the bar, his big shoulder pressing against my ribs. “But don’t assume we won’t ever have threats hanging over our heads. It’s going to be a constant battle. The FBI are only just learning your name, and they’re going to come for you at some point, but we will always have your back just as you’ve always had ours. Without you …” he pauses, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip as his eyes soften, meeting mine. “Without you, nothing is worth living for. The fucking money, the head of the family, the bloodshed, it’s not worth it to me anymore, not without you.”

A smile spreads across my face, and he raises up just a bit to capture my lips in his before kissing me deeply.

Levi grunts, throwing his drink back. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to say something equally sappy? Because honestly, get fucked. It ain’t happening.”

I laugh and shake my head, pulling away from Marcus. Levi said everything he had to say before Marcus and Roman even walked in. He’s not the kind to say sentimental crap, especially in front of his brothers. He prefers privacy and I love that about him. “You know you’re an idiot, right?”

Levi rolls his eyes and grips my chin, forcing my mouth to his. He kisses me just as Marcus has, only pushing his tongue inside my mouth demanding dominance, and I can just imagine the praise he’ll give for allowing him to take what he wants.

Roman’s gaze is heavy on my face as he begins to harden within me, and I find myself laying back on the bar, Levi coming down with me and lowering his warm lips to my body, worshipping me with his mouth. Roman thumbs my clit as he continues moving in and out, and Marcus takes his shot, standing and meeting my eye. He kisses me upside down and all too soon, I’m reaching for his cock, more than ready for round three.

Epilogue

10 MONTHS LATER

The blindfold falls from my eyes and I stare up at the beautiful home that I’ve been drooling over for the past ten months, seeing it only on paper and hearing absolutely nothing about, apart from when Roman had a question about color schemes and styling.

It’s driven me crazy. I’ve wanted nothing more than to escape their hold and get my ass out here, but they haven’t made it easy. They wanted this to be a surprise, and now that I’m here staring up at the stunning home, I’m so glad they did.

“Holy shit,” I breathe as Marcus’ thumb trails over my knuckles, running back and forth. It looks exactly like the drawing. Roman’s team got it just right. “It’s beautiful.”

We stand at the top of the property as I look on in awe. Every single inch of land has been beautifully landscaped—including a long, curved driveway with trees lining either side leading to the big circle before the mansion. Not to mention, the most stunning water feature directly in the center that draws your eye up to the home. Gardens surround the property, all beautifully designed to complement the home, but I wouldn’t expect anything else from a perfectionist like Roman.

It’s huge. There’s no other way to describe it. Simply huge.

The house is modern with a flare of the boys’ gothic style, while also including that elegance I love about the home that Gia built … not that I’m thrilled about admitting to liking anything Gia did, but there’s no denying the bitch had style.

Every light in the house is on, including the lights that line the driveway, and as the sun sinks low in the sky, the entire property glows. I don't doubt that the boys picked this exact moment to show off the home because there’s no denying that this is as good as it’s going to get.

“This is really our home?” I ask, inwardly scolding myself for the tears that threaten to fill my eyes. I’m supposed to be at the top of the Moretti empire. I can’t cry about this shit, but damn it, the tears are coming.

“Yep,” Roman says, pressing his hand to my lower back and leading me toward the big house. “We each have our own wing—a private residence within our home, filled with everything we could need. Three ballrooms, meeting rooms for family business, fully equipped training areas—one underground, plus another up on the rooftop. Fully stocked armory, garage big enough to fit both of our fleets, and of course, prison cells—one for people who mildly piss us off and another for those who will die at our hands.”

“And what about a new and improved playground?” Roman’s eyes sparkle and I don’t need an answer to know that he went all out on it, probably the space he spent the most attention on with his brothers nit-picking over every little detail. “Shit, you didn’t hold back.”

“You deserve the best,” Levi tells me. “The fucker even remembered my drums. At least, everywhere throughout my wing, plus a handful in our more common areas.”

My pussy throbs to find and christen every last one of them, and judging by the look in Levi’s eyes, he’s thinking about the exact same thing. Fuck, there’s nothing quite like drum sex. You know, apart from bar sex, and chain sex, rooftop sex, and being fucked with the handle of a knife sex.

The boys lead me toward the grand entrance, and I gaze up at the home that sits at the top of the stairs. There must be at least fifty steps leading just to the front door, and I gape at its beauty. I’m going to get a workout making my way up and down these stairs every day, but at least I can be certain that I won’t get any random people knocking on my door trying to sell me shit.

Reaching the top step, I find myself thinking about just how much we’ve managed to achieve. Our lives haven’t exactly been stress free. Claiming our titles within our families is one thing … but maintaining them and reaching expectations is another. I never realized how much politics were included in all of this. I figured I told people what I expected of them and then they killed themselves to make it happen … apparently there’s a little more to it than that.

Not to mention the uproar when I suggested merging our two families to create the world’s most unstoppable, lethal force. Some were down, others may have pulled guns and tried to make their disapproval a little too obvious. I was quick to make an example out of them and since then, we’ve slowly started the merge.

It’s not going well. The Moretti and DeAngelis men are pig-headed. They’re assholes and don’t like to share. Who would have known, right? We’re getting there though, and when we do, we’ll be unstoppable.

I haven’t seen Zeke—Agent Davidson—since before the war that saved our baby boy, but every now and then, I hear whispers about the FBI trying to move in on us, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s Agent Davidson sending me a message. I like to believe it. I like to think that after all of this, he still has my back, but I wouldn’t blame him if he were to leave me to face the firing squad. He deserves to wash his hands of this shit and never look back. All those years standing at Gia’s side and taking on tasks that went against everything he believes in … yeah, that couldn’t have been easy.

Roman opens the floor-to-ceiling double doors and I gasp as I take in the unbelievable entrance. “Oh, my God,” I breathe, stepping through to the circular foyer and taking it all in. There's a beautiful pattern in the marble tiles and stunning pillars framing the room and accentuating the high ceilings. A big double staircase curves around the edges of the foyer leading up to an open loft with stunning wrought-iron railings that I can’t wait to explore, but for now, I move straight ahead, slowly scanning over every fine detail, and wondering who the hell the boys had to threaten to get this completed so quickly.

We walk straight ahead, leading under the stairs and into a formal living area where I assume our guests will wait to be blessed with our presence. The space is open and light, big windows in every possible space, such a stark contrast to the darkness of the castle that it breaks my heart. The boys were locked up tight in there, deprived of the simplest things that life has to offer—like sunlight. But not here. In our home, they will have everything they never knew they needed.

Pillars surround the room, and I follow them through to their adjoining spaces, scanning over the meeting rooms and wandering down to one of the many ballrooms, unable to stop imagining the parties we can hold.

The grand tour takes nearly an hour, and by the time I’ve seen everything and drooled over our pool, my thighs are beginning to burn. Our home is perfect, and so much more than I could have ever imagined despite having agonized over every last inch of the blueprints and designs. But it’s becoming startlingly clear that the design plans I was offered weren’t exactly the ones they were looking at. This here before me is a million times better, a million times bigger, and a million times more perfect.

They were holding out on me, but I’m really not surprised.

We’re up in my private suite—something that I feel isn’t actually going to be as private as we’d intended—looking out over the property, the soft breeze brushing through my hair. We stand out on my balcony, my suite directly in the center, allowing me the most stunning views of both the front and back of the property. “Come on,” Marcus says, his eyes sparkling with whatever the big secret is that I know they’ve been hiding from me for the past ten months. “There’s something we want to show you.”

My brows furrow as I let Marcus take my hand and lead me through my wing, bypassing my private theater room, stocked to the brim with bean bags, cushions, and blankets to snuggle into, even in the hottest summers. I try to go over the blueprints in my head, trying to figure out what room we haven’t visited yet, but I’m positive that I’ve already seen it all. “Where are we going?”

“Fuck, you suck at accepting surprises,” Levi murmurs, his eyes sparkling with laughter. “Would you just let us show you instead of trying to figure it out?”

I roll my eyes and zip my lips, allowing Marcus to lead me along the main hallway in my suite. He walks right to the end of an empty hallway, and for a moment, I think he’s fucking insane, that is until he presses his hand against the wall and the whole thing shifts back and opens. “What is this?” I breathe, my eyes bugging out of my head.

Marcus glances back at me, his eyes shimmering with desire. “Why don’t you come on in and see.”

The challenge in his tone has me striding straight past him and into the darkened room. There are no windows in here and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. There’s a big bed in the center of the room, a bar and small seating area with only enough chairs for the four of us, not including the long, narrow couch across the room. My brows furrow, wondering what the hell this is, but as I take in the finer details, the strategically placed pieces of furniture, the full frame around the bed, the metal hooks and harnesses, it finally clicks.

“Holy fuck,” I gasp. “What in the fifty shades of kinky-fuckery is this? You made us a sex room?”

Roman laughs, his wide grin confirmation enough. “Would you expect anything less?” he questions before pointing out some things in the room. “We’re directly in the center of the mansion, each of our own private suites connecting to this very room.” He walks around, pointing out all the separate doors which no doubt have secret entrances. “We wanted a place where we could come together, the four of us to do whatever the fuck it is that we need to do. Don’t get me wrong, if we happen to be out by the pool and the moment strikes, then so be it. I just thought with so many people coming in and out of our home, guards, and family members, plus Sebastian running around, we needed somewhere we could slip away without anyone barging in on us.”

I nod, totally getting it. “I’m assuming that each of your entrances also have super-secret hidden doors?”

Boyish grins settle across their faces, and I roll my eyes as Marcus moves forward. “In here, we can play out our darkest desires, not that we haven’t already done that,” he says, leading me around the room, indicating to the harness above the bed and the thick metal hooks on the headboard. “With Sebastian due to start walking in the next few months, we didn’t want to risk him walking into one of our rooms and wondering why his mom was naked and hanging from chains with her legs spread apart, so … all that shit can go down in here.”

He moves toward the bed and I realize that behind the wall, there’s some sort of open closet. “Come check it out,” he says, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. I follow him around the bed and into the closet and gape at the collection of sex toys. “Anything you want, baby. I got you.”

“Holy crap,” I breathe, knowing without a doubt that Marcus was completely responsible for the contents of this closet. Levi’s never been one for all the extra stuff. I mean, if it’s on offer, he’s not going to say no, but it’s not what he seeks out. As long as I call him daddy and he gets to bite back with his snarky attitude and call me a brat, then he’s guaranteed to come. Roman, on the other hand, is down for a bit of kinky-fuckery. He’ll put anything anywhere and watch me come undone. But Marcus, my dark and twisted broken soul of a man loves to explore the darker side of sex, loves to fuck me hard while my hands are tied behind my back, loves to chain me and take my freedom just as he did that very first time. He’ll never cross the line though, always making sure that I know what he’s going to do when that desire strikes, always making sure that he has my consent.

The three of them are so different and yes, it just works. I would never have it any other way.

A smile breaks across my face as my fingers brush over the array of things laid out before me, half of them things I’ve never come across before, though I’m sure Marcus is all too eager to teach me. My fingers catch against a rope and I pick it up before turning back to Marcus. “I mean, this is all great and I can’t wait to explore it all with you, but I can’t get past the thought of you three tying me to that bed and fucking me senseless.”

He gapes at me for a moment, not having expected that to come out of my mouth right now. He was probably waiting for me to demand answers, to gawk at the insane instruments around us and beg for explanations on how each of them work, but we told the nanny we’d be back to collect Sebastian in two hours, and we’ve already wasted one of them looking around our new home.

Time is of the essence.

Marcus steps into me, taking the rope from my hand, his cock already bulging at the front of his pants. “Your wish is my fucking command,” he murmurs, looking at me in awe. “But can you do me one little favor?”

I watch him carefully, tracking his every step through the narrow closet until he stops in front of a set of built-in glass drawers. He presses on the front of the drawer and it quickly pops open and displays the most jaw-dropping lingerie sets I’ve ever seen.

Marcus scans through them before pulling out a black lacy piece with straps going everywhere. Picking it up out of the drawer and clutching it between his strong fingers, he moves across the room until he’s standing right in front of me, forcing me to tilt my neck to peer up at his dark, hungry eyes. He presses the flimsy lingerie into my hands, his voice lowering to a deep growl. “Wear this so I can tear it off with my teeth.”

And just like that, I’m soaking wet, gasping as he steps around me, rope in hand, more than ready to tie my ass to that bed and fuck me senseless.

We emerge from our sex dungeon an hour later and I can barely walk in a straight line. My knees shake and I hold on to Levi, trying to catch my breath. I feel each of them between my legs, leaking out of me and smearing between my thighs.

Roman glances back at me, a smug smile resting on his warm lips. “You alright, Empress?” he questions. “Looks like you’re struggling to keep yourself upright.”

I flip him off. “I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. Though, if I’m completely honest, after letting the three of you fuck me like that, I shouldn’t be able to walk at all. I’m disappointed.”

The smug grin falls away, and I plaster one of my own across my face as Marcus laughs, not even my endless teasing is able to fuck with his satisfaction. There’s nothing quite like tying your girl to the bed and turning her into a cream donut. He’ll be smiling for the rest of the night.

Roman rolls his eyes, more than certain he gave me everything I needed and so much more. He’s never disappointed me during sex … except that one time in the beginning, but I’m partly at fault for that. “Why don’t you go and shower?” he suggests. “There’s a bunch of clothes in your walk-in. I thought we could swing by the Moretti residence, grab Sebastian, and take you out. After all, it’s your birthday.”

“Wow,” I grin. “Birthday sex and a dinner date with my favorite boys? Shit, I must be a lucky girl.” I pause, thinking it over and letting my brows furrow. “Wait, a dinner date? Like you actually want to go somewhere to have a meal … in public … where literally everyone wants us cuffed and sentenced? What’s going on? Is it the local police department’s night off? The FBI too busy with a raid?”

Levi groans and pulls me away, his hand coming down on my ass with a smack, the sound ringing in the air just right. “Would you just go and get yourself ready?”

Rolling my eyes, I make my way down to my private bathroom, a little too excited to test it out. There’s a waterfall shower head and a bath that looks divine. I could probably spend hours in here just relaxing as I stare out the big window at the view of the rolling mountains and the stars twinkling in the night sky. But as it is, I’m too eager to get back to my little guy.

Sebastian is thirteen months old now, and he’s already the coolest little guy I know. I officially became his mom last month and have the adoption papers to prove it, but in all honesty, I became his mom the moment I picked him up out of that crib and ran for our lives.

Being a parent alongside Roman has been a bit of a learning curve. I’m overprotective and terrified of him getting hurt, while Roman is pushing him toward every experience and eager to show him everything that this life has to offer, even if it means running and bombing into the deep end of the pool in the dead of night just to make him laugh. There’s no doubt about it, we both made the right decision taking him on as our own. Even if something happens and our relationship crumbles, I will always be Sebastian’s mom, through thick and thin.

Getting out of the shower, I walk through to the closet and gape at it. I hadn’t looked in here when we did the grand tour, assuming it was just like every other mansion closet I’ve experienced over the past year and a half, but I was wrong. This closet is as big as my old apartment. It has separate rooms—one for bags, then shoes, gowns, accessories, and everyday wear. This is insane. No one could ever need this many clothes, but then, with the way the boys tend to tear them off me, I might just need them after all.

I get myself all dolled up in a silver bandage dress that hugs my body just right, showing off my subtle curves and pushing my tits up. After slipping my feet into a pair of red-bottom heels and finding a purse to match, I make my way out of my private suite and try to figure out how the hell I’m going to find the boys.

Soft music comes from downstairs, and I grip the wrought-iron railing—still so freaking impressed by it—before carefully making my way down the stairs and following the soft murmured voices out into the night.

As I step through the big doors and onto the patio looking over our stunning property, I find my boys in suits, little Sebastian on Roman’s hip, and a priest standing between them.

I suck in a gasp as all of my boys stare up at me with proud smiles across their faces, Dill and Doe racing through the trees in the distance. “What in the ever-loving hell is this?” I whisper, already knowing all too well, but the shock coursing through my system forces the words out of my mouth.

Marcus makes his way toward me, his eyes sparkling as his brothers and Sebastian watch, already in on the secret. I go to take Marcus’ hand, but he stops just out of reach before dropping to his knee and staring up at me, his heart shining through his eyes. “Shayne Alexandra Moretti, I know I can’t spend my days loving you as your husband, may never receive the honor of calling you my wife, but that’s exactly who you are to me. I love you with every part of my being, you are an extension of me, my soul, my other half, and the light that dragged me out of the darkness. You saved me, Shayne Moretti. You saved me from myself and from the hell I was living. You taught me what it meant to love, to allow light into my life, and taught me that there is good in this world. I don’t know where I would be without you, and so I ask you, Shayne, the love of my life, to allow me to make solemn vows to you, to stand before my brothers and offer myself to you in every way humanly possible. I am yours wholeheartedly, and it’s about damn time that I scream it for the fucking world to hear.”

I drop down in front of him, tears welling in my eyes. “Absolutely yes,” I tell him, capturing his face between my palms and crushing my lips to his.

“I love you so freaking much, Marcus DeAngelis,” I tell him, my lips moving against his. “It would be my greatest honor to stand before you and the eyes of the world and vow my love to you.”

He kisses me again before pulling back and slipping his hand into his pocket and producing a diamond ring. “I had this made for you,” he says. “I don’t know how this whole vow ceremony is supposed to go and that you can’t exactly wear three diamond rings on one finger, but I want to offer this to you all the same.”

Taking my hand in his, he slides the ring into place and my heart explodes with joy. “It’s stunning,” I tell him. “And you’re wrong. I will wear every diamond you want to give me if it means getting to keep you forever.”

Marcus grins as I hear Sebastian’s soft laughter behind us, and he takes my hand and raises it to his lips. He kisses the back of my hand, his eyes warm and full of life. “Do you remember that diamond chandelier that you shot out of the sky?”

“How could I not? I have one of them perched up on my trophy shelf.”

Marcus grins at the fond memory before indicating to the ring. “I stole the diamonds for you, all of them,” he says. “I didn’t want anyone else to get their hands on them, so I had them collected and stored away with the intent to have each one forged into the most priceless piece of jewelry. I hired a full time jeweler solely to create pieces for you. Earrings, necklaces, rings, anything you desire is yours.”

I stare at him in shock. “You did all of that for me?”

“Of course, I did,” he tells me. “These diamonds are rightfully yours. They’re a part of your story and it wouldn’t be right for anyone else to have them. One day when the time comes, they can be a part of your legacy, something you tell your children about and pass down through generations.”

I throw my arms around him and hold him to me, my heart booming in my chest. I’ve never been one for wearing heaps of jewelry, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love to gawk at it every chance I get. “Thank you so much,” I whisper. “Before meeting you three, no one had ever done anything for me, never went out of their way to love me, never cared enough, but you … you’re out here on your knees wearing your heart on your sleeve, asking me to love you for the rest of my life. No girl could ever be this lucky, Marcus. I love you so damn much.”

He smiles and draws me in. “Then what the hell are we waiting for? Let’s get this ceremony over and done with so I can officially call you mine.”

Marcus leads me down the aisle and I meet Roman’s stare, my husband. We’ve talked about this ceremony a million times over, and as much as we have committed to it, it was always something that we never got around to doing. There was always something else that demanded our attention, but now that it’s here and the boys are ready and waiting, I couldn’t be more excited.

Sebastian immediately flies out of Roman’s arms, diving toward mine, and I catch him before he gets a chance to fall. “Hello my sweet boy,” I coo, my heart shattering with overwhelming love as I take in his tiny little suit that has his dinner smeared across the front. “You look so handsome.”

“Mama,” he babbles as Roman puts his arm around my waist and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Are you surprised?” he murmurs against my skin.

“Surprised is an understatement,” I tell him, meeting his warm stare. “Are you ready to be technically married to me?”

“Damn fucking straight, I am,” he says, his eyes sparkling with laughter as he turns his attention to Levi. “The question is, is he ready to sound like a sappy bitch, pouring his heart out on the ground for the world to see?”

Levi shoots his brother a lethal glare and I step out of Roman’s arms before walking directly into Levi’s and tilting my head. They don’t know him like I do, don’t know the private conversations we’ve shared, don’t know just how gentle his heart can be. He might not be sentimental in the same overwhelming, scream it from the rooftops type of way that Marcus is, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it just as strongly as I do.

Levi wraps his warm arms around me and brushes his lips over mine. “Too fucking right, I’m ready,” he murmurs against my lips before raising his head and glancing toward the priest. “Let’s get the show on the road before the next sorry asshole decides to paint a target on her back.”

And no sooner do the words come falling out of his mouth does the property light up in red and blue flashing lights, sirens echoing through the mountains. “Well, fuck,” Levi says, switching out my hand for a gun. “I suppose I spoke too soon.”

My red-bottom heels are kicked off as Sebastian is handed over to the priest and directed to our safe room and just as the heavy door of the bulletproof chamber closes behind them, the FBI come tearing through our brand new home.

Our guns go up as wicked grins stretch across our faces.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

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Savages (Depraved Sinners #3) Read Online Sheridan Anne http://www.wownovels.com/savages-depraved-sinners-3-read-online-sheridan-anne Wed, 23 Feb 2022 19:28:12 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/savages-depraved-sinners-3-read-online-sheridan-anne Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance Authors: Sheridan Anne Series: Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 1
Estimated words: 123318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Savages (Depraved Sinners #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Sheridan Anne
Language:	English
Book Information:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall Savages rising, watch how they fall. All of the heartache and all of the pain. Couldn’t put me back together again. There’s nothing quite like the smell of a decaying body. Being trapped in a cell with it under the hot, desert sun … now, that’s just sick One minute, I thought I had everything I needed in this dark world, and the next, I was a prisoner to Giovanni’s wicked plan. I don’t know how, but I will get myself out of here, even if it’s the last thing I do. Giovanni will not win this, and I won’t stop until my fingers are curled around his throat and my knife is sinking into his flesh. He’s taken everything from me. My freedom, my home … my blood, but he will never have my will to survive. Roman, Levi, and Marcus are out there somewhere. They’re looking for me and won’t stop until they have spilled as much blood as it takes to get me back in their strong arms. I have to believe that, because if I don’t, I will rot down here. I will lose myself, and I like this new life too much to give up on it now. This wicked game of life and death just took a turn for the worst and in this war, loyalties will be tested, but just as in war—not everybody will make it out alive. Eenie, meenie, miny, moe.
Books in Series:	Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
Books by Author:	Sheridan Anne

1

Levi

The sweet sound of bone crunching beneath my baseball bat does nothing to ease the fury rippling through my veins.

Someone knows where the fuck Shayne is, and I won’t be leaving until I’ve cut out every last tongue that refuses to talk. Though I can’t guarantee that my brothers or I won’t end these bastards’ miserable lives before we get around to finding out Shayne’s location. What can I say? We’re desperate, and you can't blame a desperate man for what he does with a weapon in his hand, especially when it comes to Shayne Mariano.

“I’m growing impatient,” I rumble, my chest vibrating with anger as the sheer image of my father torturing Shayne makes my stomach churn with unease. God knows that girl has already suffered enough at our hands, she doesn’t need my father’s bullshit as well.

My stare pierces into the guard’s dead eyes and there’s no doubt that he’s saying his final prayers. If this fucker doesn’t start talking and tell me where the hell my girl is, he won’t live to see another sunrise, let alone another fucking minute.

Who am I kidding? He could tell me everything I want to know and offer me a fucking door-to-door service to go and collect her and I still wouldn’t let this asshole walk out of here alive. Even if he doesn’t know a damn thing. That’s just the price you pay for being one of my father’s henchmen. This is the life you sign up for.

My father’s guard spits a mouthful of blood at my feet and glares up at me through his thick row of dark lashes. “Go to hell.”

Well, shit. Now he’s gone and done it.

Rage pulses through me and I let out a roar as my bat swings toward his ribs with the kind of force that would have even my father worshiping at my feet. The bat crushes his ribs, and the satisfaction is barely enough to keep me breathing.

The guard cries out before quickly turning his pain into a low, furious growl, clenching his hands into tight fists. He sweats, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he clenches his jaw, trying not to scream as his bones shatter under my bat. I’ve got to give it to the guy, he’s tough. He’s putting in a good effort, but only a few short days ago, I looked him dead in the eye just moments before he shot taser prongs into Shayne’s scarred, aching body, and dropped her to the ground in our fucking driveway. That image spurs me on.

Nobody takes from the DeAngelis brothers and gets away with it, especially not my father.

Watching him hold his tongue has irritation burning through my veins, and the helplessness begins to overwhelm me. It’s been two days. Two long fucking days and every passing second is another second that we’re letting her down.

My brothers fume silently behind me. They’ve tortured enough motherfuckers over the past forty-eight hours to know how this is going to end. One glance at Roman tells me that he’s moments from stepping in and handling this himself, while a scathing look from Marcus warns me that he’s about to break.

It’s one thing to have one DeAngelis brother at breaking point, but to push all three of us to the edge and threaten to push us over, that means heads will roll, blood will be spilled, and patience will be tested—patience that not one of us possess.

The guard’s head tilts up and he looks to the darkened ceiling, sucking short pants through his clenched jaw, and I don’t doubt that his shattered ribs have punctured a lung. “Last warning before I cut out your tongue. Where the fuck is she?”

The guard roars, fighting against his binds, and as his eyes drop from the ceiling to meet mine once again, I know exactly how this is going to go. “Like I would ever tell you sick bastards.”

I gently swing the bat in front of me, just enough to catch against his junk and watch the fear in his eyes as I lean into it, slowly crushing everything beneath it. “What a shame,” I murmur, truly let down by his inability to make a good decision. “In another life, you would have made a good soldier for us. We would have even treated you well. A soldier who refuses to talk is an asset, but you’re also a soldier who let his guard down enough to get captured, and that to us is nothing but a pain in the ass.”

His breaths become more ragged and forced as his glare sharpens with hostility. “I will never work for you.”

Marcus laughs and pushes off the bloodied counter, slowly striding toward our hostage as I ease off his balls and let the bat hang by my side. Marcus drops his gaze to the red scar across the top of his hand from where Shayne stabbed him and ultimately claimed his heart, and that one small gesture tells me that everything he does from this moment on is for her.

“Look at you, assuming you’ll be able to make decisions like who you work for after this,” Marcus mutters, walking around the guard until he’s standing behind his chair, the harsh light gently rocking above them. “Let me be very clear. You will not be walking out of here alive. You will die here tonight, but it is your choice as to how that happens. It can be quick, or it can be the most brutal death any man could possibly experience. You know where he’s keeping her. Just tell us what we need to know and we will be kind. Keep biting your tongue though, and Roman will tear out your throat with his bare hands.”

Roman straightens beside me at the thought of brutally murdering this man.

“I ain’t saying shit,” the guard spits, flinching away from Marcus as he inches even closer.

“Such a fool,” Marcus laughs. “Are you that terrified of our father, or do you foolishly believe that you owe him your loyalty?”

The guard clenches his jaw and studiously stares across the room, avoiding eye contact, and our answer is crystal clear. This man is a little bitch with no backbone and absolutely no sign of a set of balls. Fuck, Shayne has a bigger set of balls than this guy.

Roman inches closer, slipping his hand deep into his pocket and gripping the long, steep pin that I know he’s hiding in there. He glances down at the pathetic excuse of a man with nothing but disgust. “You’re an idiot to fear our father over us. You do not owe him your loyalty. After all, he knows you’re here and he’s left you to die. He’s not coming to save you. Nothing will stand in our way of ending your life tonight, so be smart about this. Tell us what we need to know, and you will die quickly, otherwise, you will learn the hard way that all those stories, all those whispers you’ve always heard about us are true.”

The guard swallows hard but his dickish, stubborn nature keeps his mouth shut.

Roman pulls the long metal pin from his pocket and I take a step to the side. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” Roman warns, his tone thick with venom. “Where is Giovanni keeping Shayne Mariano?”

The guard raises his chin in defiance and a wicked grin stretches over his lips. “That mouth of yours sure would look good wrapped around my cock.”

Ahhh, fuck. We’re in for a long night.

Roman laughs and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “If you wanted to suck my dick, all you needed to do was ask.”

The guard tenses and Marcus leans over him, pressing his hands over the guy’s wrists, keeping him still as Roman steps right in front of him. My jaw clenches, every moment of Roman’s dramatics just adding another second before I can finally get to my girl.

The guard lowers his gaze, assuming that Roman is about to whip his cock out and force him to swallow it, but he would never. Roman has shoved his dick into the most questionable places over the years, but he’d never risk it getting bitten off like this. Though, if it sends a wave of panic soaring through the guard’s veins, then I’m all for it. Besides, Roman wouldn’t shit all over Shayne by giving this guy something that so clearly belongs to her, despite how much they both deny it. Roman has one hell of a serious hard-on for that girl, and that’s only made clearer by the way he takes the guard’s pointer finger and presses the tip of the pin just below his nail.

The guard frets, fighting around both Marcus and Roman’s hold, but he’s trapped, his broken ribs and punctured lung making his efforts laughable.

“Tell us where he’s keeping her,” I mutter, my voice dark and filled with a lethal promise to destroy him.

Roman waits a beat, but when he refuses to respond, he presses against the pin, piercing through the tip of his finger and pushing it deep below the surface. The pin scrapes along the bone and I watch with a sick satisfaction as I see it moving below the skin.

The guard roars, tears springing from his eyes, and Marcus laughs in his ear. But I can’t tear my eyes away. My heart races, the sick sense of torture filling my veins with an addictive power. The pin plunges right down to the guard’s knuckle and I smile, knowing the one quick move from Roman would have the pin tearing right through his flesh with his whole nail detaching and flying across the room. I bet he could even hit the far wall with that little bastard.

Fuck, that’s gotta hurt. I’ve been on my big brother’s bad side more times than I can count, but I’ve never pissed him off enough to try this shit on me. He wouldn’t though. Blood is thicker than water, and no matter what, we have one another’s backs.

The guard wails, growing weaker by the second, and Roman releases the pin, leaving it protruding from his finger. “What’s it going to be?” he questions. “Still have tight lips or is that tongue of yours gonna loosen up?”

The guard glances away and Roman laughs before curling his fingers and gently flicking the end of the pin sending a searing wave of pain through the guy’s finger. I can’t help the smirk that stretches across my lips. Roman’s always had a way with torture that Marcus and I simply don’t possess. Marcus is wild and gets carried away. The second he sees just a little bit of blood splatter, there’s no controlling him. He’s gotta decorate the whole fucking room. Me? I like my kills simple. Straight to the point where I don’t have to clean up afterward, though if the crime calls for a messy punishment, then I’m more than happy to play along.

Roman though, he likes his victims begging for mercy and believes that if they’re not still cursing his name in hell and making the dead fear him, then he didn’t do his job well enough.

Knowing the guy isn’t about to talk, Roman digs into his pocket again and pulls out a second pin. I roll my eyes. If the first pin didn’t get him talking, then the second pin isn’t going to work. This one is purely for fun.

Roman steps right between the guy’s knees and bends to meet him eye to eye before reaching to his belt buckle. Not a word is said as Roman strips the man of his belt and pulls his jeans down to his knees. He looks down at the small appendage flopped against his right thigh, and his face twists with disgust. Roman holds out the pin between them, giving the guard a close-up view of it, letting him see just how thick, long, and sharp it really is. “Have you ever played pin the tail on the donkey?” Roman muses as the guy’s eyes go wide with crippling fear. “Our version is a little different. Just as fun though.”

“It’s okay,” Marcus murmurs in his ear. “It’s not like you’re going to be able to use it after this anyway.”

The guard whimpers, his brows creasing with fear as Roman reaches down and takes the guy’s limp dick in his hand. I let out a sigh, never happier that Roman drew the short straw on this one. I can’t say that I envy him right now, though knowing Roman, he’s looking past the fact that he has another man’s dick in his hand and is already getting off on the fear he’s invoking.

What can I say? Roman might be the most cautious and put together of the three of us, but he’s just as sick as Marcus.

The tip of the pin presses to the tip of his dick and Roman grins before slowly glancing up to meet the guard’s eyes. He’s sweating, knowing just what this means for him, not that it matters. The only way he’ll be leaving this warehouse is in a body bag.

He shakes his head, pleading with my eldest brother to spare him the agony, but Roman isn’t one to pick up subtle clues. “Please,” he whimpers, tears brimming in his bloodshot eyes. “No. Please. No.”

Roman arches a brow and as Marcus holds him down, he pushes the sharp tip of the pin into the small opening at the tip of his dick. The guard screams out, his blood-curdling tone echoing through the empty warehouse. “STOP. STOP. Please. I’ll do anything.”

Roman doesn’t relent. He already knows what we want.

Marcus’ hand goes under his throat as my fingers curl around the knife on the counter behind me, the baseball bat long forgotten. Marcus yanks his head back, meeting his terrified eyes as Roman pushes the pin deeper into his junk. “WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE?” Marcus roars.

The guard cries. “I … I don’t know,” he says, tears streaming down his face. “I only heard whispers.”

Roman pushes deeper. “Tell me what I want to know, and I can make it all go away.”

“A cabin,” he rushes out, his breathing labored and strained.

Roman lowers his face, his jaw clenched in frustration. “Where?” he spits.

“I … I … I don’t know. In the desert somewhere. They don’t tell me anything,” he sobs.

Then just like that, Roman tears the pin from his dick and the guy lets out a strained breath, but his relief is short-lived as I move into Roman’s spot and slit his throat with one simple flick of my wrist. Roman drops the bloodied pin and reaches out, then just as Marcus promised, Roman pushes his hand through the opening of his wound and tears his throat out, ending the guard’s miserable life.

“Well, fuck,” Marcus spits, releasing the guy’s head and stepping back only to wipe the blood from his hands onto the guy’s shirt. “She’s in the desert? How the hell are we supposed to find her out there?”

Roman shakes his head, dropping the guard’s throat at his feet and shaking the remaining blood off his hand as though it disgusts him. “No fucking idea,” he mutters, his jaw clenched, knowing that while we got the answers we were looking for, it’s only left us ten steps back. “I wasn’t even aware that Father had a cabin, but I’m not surprised. This is just the kind of shit he’d do to fuck with us.”

Tossing the knife back onto the counter, I let out a frustrated breath. “If only she still had that fucking tracker…”

“Yeah,” Marcus scoffs, stepping around the bound body and grabbing the front of my shirt. “Whose fault is that? If you two bastards hadn’t put your fucking hands on my girl, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Guilt soars through my chest. He's right. Roman and I chose not to trust her when Marcus was lying in bed bleeding out from a gunshot wound and look where the fuck that got us. I now know better than to question Shayne’s word, but it was a lesson we all learned in the worst possible way. She tells me she’s moved past it, but even now, when I catch her off guard and move even an inch, the way she flinches kills me.

But after what I did, what Roman did, I’d give up everything I have just to make sure she’s safe. Fuck, I would have done that anyway, but now, I owe her a lifetime of service. I would drop to my knees and give her the heart right out of my chest if she asked for it, even if her intention was to crush it.

“Lay off it,” Roman demands, not in the mood to have this same conversation we’ve had a million times over the past few weeks, each time ending the exact same—Marcus wants to kill me, and fuck it, I almost let him. If it weren’t for how badly I want to see Shayne soar, then I’m sure I would have allowed him to do his worst already.

Roman steps between me and Marcus and pushes him back. “We’re both at fault for what happened to Shayne, but don’t act like you didn’t know about that fucking tracker. You know every scar on her body, you knew it was gone the moment you saw her. We should have fit her with a new one before we went to that tomb party. We all let her down. Now stop fucking moping about it and help me figure out a way to locate this goddamn cabin or I swear to God, Marc, I’ll leave you on the ground right beside this motherfucker.”

Marcus clenches his jaw, hating nothing more than having our big brother put him in his place, but Roman is right. These extra moments wasted getting pissy at each other and playing the blame game isn’t getting us anywhere closer to Shayne, and in a world like this, every second counts.

2

Shayne

The putrid tang of Felicity’s decaying body rests in my nose and makes me gag. Though after two days of this, I figured I’d be used to it by now. Nope, what a load of bullshit that was. I will never be used to this. The heat swirling around the cells doesn’t help either. It’s like a sauna of rotting flesh and maggots in here.

The pools of blood kept this dingy cell damp for most of yesterday, inviting all the bugs until the harsh desert heat finally began drying things out, which included Felicity’s blood all over my clothes and skin.

I’ve never felt so disgusted in my life, which surely makes me an awful person seeing as this poor woman beside me lost her life only a short forty-eight hours ago after pushing out a baby—Roman’s baby at that. But on the other hand, it’s decaying flesh, and it’s the worst thing in the world.

Guilt soars through me at the thought. I shouldn’t be focusing on the smell. I should be focused on getting out of here and keeping myself away from her body. I don’t want to disrespect her in any way because when the boys eventually come for me, they’re going to want to bury her properly, and I can only imagine the foul comments and snide remarks I’d receive from Roman if I were to harm her body in any way by trying to push her aside.

Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?

She just died after being held hostage and giving birth in a cell. Her baby was stolen from my very arms just moments after promising her that I would keep him safe. I’m a walking fucking curse.

The thought of her stolen baby, Roman’s precious newborn son, has my gaze shifting over her face for the millionth time. I’ve been in this cramped cell for two days now, and to be honest, there’s really nothing else to look at down here, apart from the bitch who lives across the narrow, damp hallway.

My gaze rests on Felicity’s face and it’s clear to see why Roman was so in love with her. With a bit of color in her cheeks and clean, volumized hair, she would have been stunning. But the version of her that I met was a haunted ghost of the woman she used to be. What sucks is that after all this time, the boys thought she was dead, and they didn’t even try to look for her. They could have saved her from this. They could have given her the world and Roman would have raised his baby and played happy little family.

They’ll come for me. I can feel it in my bones, in my chest, they’re going to come. They won’t leave me here to rot. They’re my only shot. All I know is that when they come, I need to be ready because a move like this is going to ensure a war, a war much bigger than the bullshit family killing spree going on. The boys won’t just roll over and accept it like they’ve trained to do with everything else in their lives. They’ll seek vengeance and I’ll be right there to watch it happen.

I need to be ready.

Taking a breath, I lean back against the dirty ground, closing my eyes to imagine that I’m somewhere else, that I’m not lying next to a decaying corpse, that whenever I move, bits of dried blood flakes don’t pick up in the dust and coat my dirty skin.

My hands hover by my face and I clench my nonexistent abs before letting out a slow breath and rising into a sit-up. I lower myself back down and try to picture the boys’ perfect faces, their wicked smirks when they’re about to tear someone’s flesh into bright red ribbons, their bodies, and the way they make me come alive under their skillful touch.

My stomach clenches, and just when I start to feel the familiar burn, an unwanted sound fills the underground cell. “What the fuck are you doing?”

My eyes snap open and I stare up at the dirty ceiling, knowing damn well that I would rather have heard Giovanni’s voice than hers.

Ariana McFuckface … shit, I can’t even remember her last name. How appalling of me. Have the boys even offered me one? Maybe she took on DeAngelis after marrying Giovanni. I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s always drooled over DeAngelis dick. Though, I can’t say I blame her. It’s not like I’m any different. Those DeAngelis boys really do know how to use their equipment, and damn, it’s some mighty fine equipment they have.

I let out a heavy sigh and sit up, leaning back against my dirty hands as I glare across the cells to find Ariana’s scrunched up face. “Working out,” I throw back at her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

She rolls her eyes, just as clearly frustrated by conversing with me as I am by her. “I know what a fucking workout is, dipshit. I meant why. What’s the point? We’re going to die down here. Your precious little boy toys aren’t coming to save us, and you can hardly expect that Giovanni is going to keep paying these assholes to keep us here. He’ll want them back to serve as his protection detail. They’ll go at a moment’s notice and leave us to starve.”

I laugh, allowing a wicked smirk to cut across my face. “That’s cute that you think the boys will save you too.”

Her glare hardens and I let out a sigh, wanting this conversation over sooner rather than later. “I want to be ready. When the boys come, they’ll come guns blazing, and if I need to do my part, then I want to be ready for it.”

Ariana raises a brow and looks at me like a naive little child who thinks the world will be handed to her on a silver platter. “And if they don’t come?”

I shrug my shoulders, knowing that’s not the case. They’ll come no matter what they have to risk. I have absolute faith in them despite our rocky and questionable past. “They will.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath. “For fuck’s sake. Do you always shit rainbows and unicorns? You know life doesn’t always work out how you think it will, right? Nothing is ever a guarantee in this life, and the quicker you learn that the better. Otherwise, you’re leading yourself toward disappointment.”

“Holy fuck,” I grumble, lying back down to start another round of sit-ups, my determination knowing no bounds. “Have you always been a bitter asshole or has that just come with age?”

“I swear to God, Shayne. If I ever get out of here, I will strangle you.”

“You’re not,” I mutter, feeling the burn deep in my stomach. “You’re never getting out of here, and I’ll personally make sure of it. When the boys come for me, and they will, we will happily walk away from you. You deserve so much worse than this after your bullshit stunt with Lucas Miller.”

Ariana leans back against the wall and reaches for her toes, clearly cramping in her little cell just as I am, only she doesn’t have to share hers with a corpse, though I guess that’s on me. “Fuck me,” she breathes. “You’re such a fucking brat. I don’t know what those boys see in you. You’re a child with a chip on your shoulder. I’m a goddamn woman.”

“Correction,” I say through deep breaths, stopping at the top of my sit-up to meet her hard stare. “You’re a desperate whore. There’s a big difference.”

She ignores my comment and holds my stare a minute longer. “Would you just … stop. You have these massive blinders on, like it’s not possible for you to see through the boys’ bullshit. They’re not invincible, you know. They’re just men, and one of these days, someone is going to get the better of them. Besides, if they were coming for you, then where the hell are they? It’s been two days. They probably think you’re dead,” she says, her gaze flicking toward the dead body by my side, “just like they thought she was.”

A shiver trails down my spine. It’s completely possible they think I’m dead. That it was all in my head and they don’t care for me as much as I hoped. That they have absolutely no intention of coming for me, or that I was just another one of the many girls on their list that have come and gone, whose name they can’t remember, but the moment I start believing that is the moment I give up on any kind of future I have with them. They’re coming for me. I know they will.

I shake my head, the words feeling alien on my tongue. “If something happens and they don’t come, then … fuck, I don’t know. I’ll get out on my own. I’ll figure out a way, but if that time comes, I will be ready, and when I do free myself from this fucked-up little cell, just know there is no way in hell I’ll be taking you with me.”

Ariana rolls her eyes. “Wow, what a shocker, but don’t stress about it. I’d rather die down in this cell than owe you my life.”

“Good, I’m glad we agree on that. Besides, I’m not one to carry around dead weight.”

She raises a brow. “Excuse you?”

An unladylike scoff comes bounding out of my mouth. “You heard me. It’s a fucking desert out there. You wouldn’t get a hundred feet before collapsing in a dirty heap and crying about it. You’ll walk your ass back here and hand yourself over. You don’t have what it takes to see it through, which is probably why Roman never fought for you. You’re weak, and a man like that needs a real woman by his side, not someone who will crumble and bitch out under the pressure.”

Feeling way too proud of my jibe, I lower myself back down and continue my workout, thinking of nothing but my list of things I need to accomplish.

Get out of here.

Slit Giovanni’s throat.

Save Roman’s baby.

I repeat my list over and over as though my repetition can somehow make it all happen, and with each sit-up I do, I catch Ariana’s curious eyes still on me.

“What?” I snap, needing a moment to rest and not liking the way she watches me. “I’m not some frightened little bitch anymore, so you can guarantee that I’m not about to crawl through Felicity’s dried blood to fuck you through the bars. Besides, you’re really not my type.”

She lets out a frustrated groan, and I can only imagine what the other women locked up deeper in the cells must think of our fucked-up little relationship. “You really need to get over yourself. I didn’t eat your pussy just so I could taste you. I did it to prove to the boys just how easily I could take their toys.”

“No matter what your reasoning, you deserve a bullet through the head for that. Ever heard of this crazy concept called consent?”

Ariana’s brows drop low. “I’m not a rapist.”

“Aren’t you?”

Ariana scoffs. “And to think I was about to tell you that I can finally see why the boys are so infatuated with you.”

I narrow my stare, but she’s got me hook, line, and sinker. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

She lets out a deep sigh and adjusts herself on her cell floor, the sheer layer of sweat coating her skin glistening in the harsh fluorescent light. Her gaze drops to Felicity, not wanting to meet my hard stare. “What you did for her,” she starts. “I know I sure as hell wouldn’t have risked my life to do that. You were out of the fucking cell. You could have run, but you chose to stay and help her. You’re stronger than I gave you credit for. You surprised me, and again when refusing to let go of that baby. You would have given up your own life if it meant saving him.”

I narrow my stare on her, not liking the sudden change in her tone. It’s impossible to know if the words spewing from her mouth are honest or not, but either way, she is trying to soften me up, trying to get in my good graces in the hopes that maybe I might take pity on her and save her ass when I eventually get out of here.

“Any woman who would run instead of helping another like I did, in my eyes, isn’t a woman at all,” I tell her, unable to resist sparing a glance toward the woman I couldn’t save. “Now cut the shit. I don’t want to hear your stupid attempts to manipulate me. You’re a liar, and no amount of buttering me up is going to save you. You could have a fucking crown on your head and the most prestigious title to your name, but after setting me up to take the fall with Lucas Miller, I still wouldn’t save you.”

She leans back against the hard stone wall, her curious gaze unwavering. “You’re stronger than the other girls they’ve kept. Perhaps that’s why you’ve made it this far.”

I scoff. “I made it this far because I know how to run fast.”

A grin pulls at the side of her lips, and I glance away, positive that she’s finding amusement in her little bullshit game, laughing at my expense which only cements the fact that I will allow her to rot and starve in these cells right alongside Felicity. Though, Roman won’t let that happen … the Felicity part, that is.

“They’re going to make you their queen, aren’t they?” she questions, drawing my attention back to her.

My brows crease as I watch her. “What’s that even supposed to mean? Being their queen?”

She looks at me in that same ‘you’re a naive little brat who doesn’t deserve what she’s got’ way before letting out a heavy sigh. “It means that once they overtake their father’s reign, they will make sure that not only they worship you, but the whole fucking company does. You will be the center of everyone’s world and in return, you will have the biggest target on your back.”

I scoff, not at all impressed. “I’ve worn a target on my back since the second they brought me into this world.”

Ariana laughs. “You think the target you’ve had now is bad, just you wait. Gia Moretti will want you dead. So will all of Giovanni’s brothers and nephews. And while you’re stupid enough to think Roman, Levi, and Marcus are invincible, they won’t be able to save you from this, and they will have nobody but themselves to blame.”

I swallow hard and glance away, not wanting her to see just how much her words have struck a deep fear within me. Every day with those boys is a game of survival, hell, look at me now. I’m rotting in their father’s desert cells next to a dead woman. I won’t survive a life worse than this. It’s one thing finding the strength to kill my father, but living a life like this every single day is bound to take its toll.

“Were you con—” I cut myself off hearing the telltale sounds of someone storming through the front door above us. The heavy footsteps warn us that it’s a man and my gaze instantly flicks toward Ariana to find her just as nervous as I feel.

She holds a finger up, warning me to keep my mouth shut as we strain to listen to the noises above, as there’s only one reason someone would show up here. “Where is she?” the voice demands.

My back stiffens. There’s something familiar about his tone, but I can’t quite place it. Judging by the way Ariana’s face turns a ghostly shade of white, she knows exactly who it is.

“Down there,” one of our jailers responds.

My eyes remain locked on Ariana’s as she watches me back, horror clear in her eyes as she begins to shake her head. “Is that Giovanni?” I question, my blood turning cold with every step the man takes leading him toward the basement door.

“No,” she murmurs, her voice shaking with fear as we hear his hand on the doorknob, slowly twisting. Her eyes widen and as if snapping out of her terror-filled trance, she scrambles back in her cell. “Play dead,” she whispers.

“What?” I rush out, certain that I didn’t hear her correctly. Why the fuck would I play dead if someone is coming down here? How could I possibly protect myself like that?

“For fu—Just … for once in your miserable life just do what I’m asking. He’s not here for you,” she spits as the door begins to open and her eyes cut to the top of the stairs. “He wants me. Play. Dead.”

His heavy boot hits the top step and fear rattles through my chest at seeing just how terrified she is of this man, and against my better judgment, I drop my body to the ground and hope to whoever exists above that this doesn’t get me killed.

3

My body drops against Felicity’s decaying corpse, my neck twisted at an awkward angle, and I do everything I can not to breathe her in. Her hair presses against my cheek and the strong scent of death plays havoc against my nose. Tears sting my eyes as my heart races with the unknown.

I don’t like this one little bit.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the old, rickety stairs fills the cells, each step echoing through the basement with a haunting bang. I can’t help the need to peer through my thick lashes, keeping an eye on Ariana. If she truly thought this guy was coming for her, then why the hell would she tell me to play dead? Is this her version of protecting me? But that can’t be right. It was only a handful of weeks ago that she was telling Lucas Miller where to find me with explicit instructions that I wasn’t to come out of it alive, and Lucas was more than willing to oblige. Shame he was a total idiot. If only she knew how to choose a killer with a brain, then perhaps I wouldn’t be here right now.

Funny how life has its brutal little ways of turning my life to complete shit.

Ariana’s face drains of all color and she looks up at the descending man as though the devil personally invited him. The stairs lead down past my cell so all I see are his obnoxious, expensive shoes and black suit pants, getting a little more leg with every step he walks down. Though by the time he reaches halfway, his hands are dangling by his side, and I find big, gold rings decorating his short, chunky fingers.

This dude is definitely Mafia. There’s no doubt about it. He gives off Giovanni vibes, but … extra, as though he’s trying to make up for something that he’s lacking, and considering where he is, I can guarantee he’s lacking a whole lot.

Ariana digs her feet into the ground and pushes back, getting further and further away, and within mere seconds, her back presses into the furthest corner of her cell. My heart races, violently hammering in my chest. Ariana has always been so put together, even when Marcus pinned her to her door with a knife through her hand, but this woman I see in the opposite cell is a complete stranger. It takes no brain at all to realize that she’s been abused by this man before.

She looks back at me, and for the first time, I fear for her. The ghost in her eyes gives away her darkest secrets, and the subtle shake of her head and desperation in her features warns me that what’s about to happen needs to stay within the confines of this cell.

After three more steps, the man hits the basement floor and I see him for what he is—a short, stumpy, egotistical asshole who thinks the world owes him pussy and respect, only they’re the two things he can’t get without throwing money at it.

He immediately begins scanning the cells and I close my eyes just enough to peer through my long lashes while keeping up the dead ruse. My body goes still, and I focus on taking shallow breaths and holding them as long as I can, determined not to allow my chest to rise and fall and get me in all kinds of trouble. It would be just my luck to get myself killed due to the fact that I need oxygen.

The man turns in the opposite direction of Ariana’s cell and makes his way toward me, and as he comes closer and steps under the dangling fluorescent light, I’m struck with a familiar face … only this one has slight changes.

A shorter, younger, and less handsome version of Giovanni stands before me, his gaze narrowed on my body as he tries to determine what the fuck went down in here.

This is clearly one of his four brothers, but it’s impossible to tell which. I’ve never had the displeasure of meeting any of them, nor do I ever intend to. My guess is that they’re just like Giovanni, only worse as they have something to prove to live up to the enormous shadow their eldest brother has cast over them.

He hovers close to the cell door, and I’m not lost on the knowledge that he would have a key somewhere buried in that expensive suit of his, though I’m not stupid enough to try and get it now. I’m too far from the cell door and would lose my element of surprise before I made it close enough to strangle him.

He watches me closely, clearly not entirely fooled by my state of deadness, but not sure enough to be certain. Maybe he thinks I’m just sleeping, too exhausted by hunger and the whole kidnapping experience to keep myself conscious.

He steps closer to the bars, his eyes narrowed and watching me far too closely. My pulse thunders and the sound is deafening in my ears, but I keep myself still. I’ve come too far to lose the game now. Besides, I want to see the day when Roman, Levi, and Marcus rule over this bastard and make his life a living hell.

“You,” he spits, clearly not remembering my name, assuming he’s even been told it before. But considering he’s Giovanni’s brother, I can only imagine what type of fun-filled conversations they’ve had about the princess locked up in the giant castle with her three devils keeping guard. Though one thing is for sure, in every story that has been told, Giovanni has underestimated me, and I can’t wait for the day that comes back to haunt him.

Felicity’s hair itches against my cheek as her rotten stench stings my nose but I keep myself grounded, focusing on the better moments as I watch this man stare back at me with his hand pressing against his junk, slowly rubbing.

A lump forms in my throat and I have to force myself not to gag. “I’m talking to you,” he growls, pressing so close to the bars that his fat caves around them.

“She’s dead,” Ariana spits from her cell, her tone wild and shaking, making the younger version of Giovanni pause and look back. “Your brother strangled her two days ago.”

His lips kick up into a wicked grin before his tongue rolls over his bottom lip. “There you are,” he taunts, making it clear that she had been his target all along. “So impatient. Don’t you worry, I’ll make my way to you eventually.”

“You’re fucking sick, Phillip.”

He just laughs as though it was his greatest compliment before turning his attention back on me. “Ever fucked a dead body, Ari? They don’t scream. Don’t move. They can’t escape you and you’re free to do whatever the fuck you want.”

Fucking Ariana. Set me up to take the fall again.

“Fuck her all you want,” Ariana says through gritted teeth, “though you and I both know your nephews will be coming for her, and if they find her tight little body defiled by your grubby hands and limp dick, they will personally see to it that they end your life, and you know how they get when they’re emotional. They wouldn’t be able to resist using those two precious daughters against you.”

Phillip’s eyes flash with indecision, knowing damn well that she’s right. The boys will slaughter him just for thinking about defiling my dead body. His eyes brighten with a sick desperation as his hand digs into his pocket and pulls out an old, iron key. “They’ll never know it was me.”

“Look around you, asshole,” Ariana laughs, indicating toward the four corners of the room and pointing out the four cameras that most likely don’t work. “You really think Giovanni isn’t watching his little toys? You know how he doesn’t like to share. Despite how much he hates me, I’m still his wife, and she is his only weapon against his sons.”

“Oh, really?” he laughs with a confidence that sends shivers over my skin. He glances back toward Ariana and shuffles himself across the dirty floor just in time to miss the way his sick tone has my hairs standing on edge, giving me away. “You may still be his wife, but he’s more than happy to share.”

My stare flicks back toward Ariana’s, watching as horror settles over her face, realizing at the same time as I do that he’s whoring out his wife for a quick buck. “He sold me?” she demands, sucking in a sharp breath filled with the worst kind of betrayal.

Phillip laughs as he drops his gaze over her body, but the way she quickly glances back at me with a knowing sadness deep in her eyes tells me that she had been expecting this, and honestly, I’m not surprised. She was forced by Giovanni’s side for years. If anyone knows just how sick and twisted his mind is, it would be her.

“You’re damn right, he did,” he slurs, distracted by her body as he pulls off his suit jacket to reveal a sweat-soaked button-down shirt that rides up at the front, showing off his greasy, hairy stomach below. “Surely you didn’t think he was just going to let you sit and rot here when he could be making money off your tight little cunt.” He quickly glances back at me, too far away to see how my eyes are opened to narrow slits. “Shame the bitch is dead though. He would have made a nice profit off that one.”

His chunky gold chain dangles around his neck and the matching bracelet clangs against the metal as he pushes the key into the lock. I shake my head, watching with tears filling my eyes, knowing without a doubt what’s about to happen, but what can I do? I’m trapped in here and screaming at him only ensures that I’ll be hurt too.

“If you fucking touch me …” she says, trailing off, her threat clear as day.

Phillip laughs and releases his belt from his suit pants before sliding the door open with a loud BANG that makes me flinch. He stands imposingly at her cell door, his intentions crystal clear. “Don’t act like you don’t want it,” he says. “You’re a fucking whore for DeAngelis dick. From what I hear, you’ve been making your way around the family. Fucked a few of my brothers. My nephews. Even Antonio got up inside that dried up, used cunt of yours. It was only a matter of time before you came begging to me.”

Ariana laughs despite the fear in her eyes, showing just how strong she can truly be. “You don’t think us Mafia wives talk? You don’t think your wife has told me all about your little … shortcomings. We laugh about it all the time. So trust me, I would have never come begging for you, not when the only time your wife has ever come was when you were sleeping beside her.”

Phillip storms into her cell, dropping down over her and slamming his hand to her mouth while I’m all too aware of the keys he’s left dangling from the cell door. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the fuck up,” he seethes through a clenched jaw, her words clearly ringing true to garner such a feisty response out of the joke of the century.

She glares up at him, buckling beneath him, trying to get his stench-filled body off her, but the wild, erratic movements only work against her. “Calm down,” he taunts. “There will be plenty of time for that.”

Ariana rages at him, her words muffled by his hand on her mouth, and though I know I should close my eyes, I can’t seem to look away from the horrors unfolding before me. Phillip presses his weight over her, keeping her pinned as he brings up his other hand and forces her wrists together. Taking his belt, he binds her wrists before pulling up and dragging her across her dirty cell while she struggles against his violent hold.

He loops the belt around the metal bars, ensuring she can’t get away, and tightens until her fingers turn a sickly shade of red before losing color all together. Phillip reaches for her dirty clothes and starts yanking her pants down her legs as she tries to kick at him and do what she can to save herself, but it’s too late. I can’t help her like this, and with her wrists bound and locked against the bar, I don’t see how she could possibly help herself. This is going to happen and there’s nothing that either of us can do about it but wait until the abuse is over.

Her pants fly across the dirty cell, and he tears her underwear from her body, leaving her more exposed and vulnerable. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she spits, horrified as he releases the button on his suit pants and pulls his dick free.

She kicks up, narrowly avoiding his junk as Phillip springs back to avoid crushing his balls, immediately slamming a foot against her ribs. Her cry echoes through the whole basement. The sound cripples me and a tear rolls down the side of my face, the dead body beneath me all but forgotten.

Phillip drops down, his knee slamming against her inner thigh with all his weight. “Try that shit again and I will slit your throat and then fuck you. Is that clear?”

Ariana whimpers, and even from across the basement with the shitty lighting, I can see the big tears fall from her eyes. My heart breaks and without a doubt, this horrendous torture is worse for me to take in than having to endure Lucas’ torture. Hell, even Roman and Levi’s.

The night in the old industrial area, I came close to this same shit with Draven Miller, but I knew that the boys were close by. Even back then, I knew they wouldn’t allow him to hurt me, but Ariana has no one. No white knight to swoop in and save her. Hell, we’ve both been lucky that the bastards upstairs haven’t already tried this shit on us.

Ariana turns her face toward me, meeting my haunted, broken stare as Phillip forces himself between her thighs. He spits on her, spreading his saliva between her legs so he can pretend that she truly wants it. His stare remains locked on her pussy and dread fills me as he takes hold of his dick and presses down over her.

Ariana’s face breaks as he forces himself through her entrance, taking from her what wasn’t his to take. He fucks her hard, no regard for her body in the slightest as he grows sweaty and fills the basement with loud grunts, but I keep my gaze locked on hers.

Silent messages pass between us, and though we can’t stand one another, she knows that no matter what, in these dirty cells, we are one. I have her back, and though I threatened to leave her ass here, after this, I won’t have the stomach to leave her behind, even after the hell she’s rained down on me.

The abuse goes on and on and with his violent, hard thrusts, I don’t doubt that she’s in a world of pain. Shame crosses her features, and after a long moment, she turns her head in the opposite direction to endure the rest of the abuse in private.

Not wanting to make this any harder on her, I give her the privacy she needs and close my eyes as the tears continue to stream down my face.

Two hours pass before Phillip pulls himself off Ariana’s broken and bleeding body, his limp dick hanging between his legs. He takes his time getting dressed as I struggle to swallow past the massive lump in my throat, but fuck, what I feel isn’t even remotely important right now.

After turning her face toward her cell wall, that’s exactly where it stayed. She didn’t make a sound. Didn’t cry. Didn’t scream for him to get off her. Just endured her abuse in silence. Even now as he walks around her cell collecting his clothes, she just stares at the wall as though she fell into a trance to get through the trauma.

Phillip is drenched in sweat, and I don’t doubt that Ariana would kill for a shower. I can’t say that I have ever been in her position or know what it feels like to have your body violated in that way, but I’m more than familiar with being abused and tortured. While a hot shower won’t wash away the memories, pain, or scars, it goes a long way in helping to remind me that I’m still alive.

The woman that I’ve come to know over the past few months would have made a snide comment about not feeling his small dick inside her. She would have made sure that if she were going down, Phillip would go down with her, but Ariana’s silence speaks volumes. In the space of two hours, he’s broken her.

Phillip steps into her side and releases the buckle on the belt, freeing her hands. Then the moment she can, she scrambles across the dirty floor, curling into a ball as far away as her cell will allow, all while Phillip watches her with a cocky smirk across his stupid face.

Fuck, I want to kill him more than I want to kill Giovanni.

Where the fuck are the boys? He’s going to walk out of here as though he didn’t just violate her in the worst way. He’s going to get on with his life while leaving her in a constant state of panic, always fearing that he could return at any time. He’s going to get away with it.

Anger burns through me as a soft whimper escapes my lips, but the sound of his belt buckle clanging against the metal bars masks my slip up. Phillip threads it back through his belt loops and keeps his stare on Ariana, wanting to see just how badly he broke her. But when he realizes that she won’t be looking up anytime soon, he reaches for his suit jacket and pulls it on.

With his shoes fastened and his shirt tucked back in, it looks as though he’s about to take his stupid, fucked-up pride and leave us in peace. Instead, he steps back into Ariana's cell and grips her arm.

She squeals as Phillip yanks her to her feet and my body flinches, ready to throw down if that’s what I have to do, but any attempt would be wasted as long as I’m locked in this cell. He begins dragging her toward the door and her fighting spirit returns. “LET GO OF ME,” she screams, his intentions crystal clear. “NO. NO. LET ME GO.”

Her nails dig into his skin, and he pulls back, blowing out a pained breath through his clenched jaw. “BITCH,” he roars, backhanding her across the face, the momentum sending her crumbling back to the ground. “You’re a fool if you thought I would pay for just one night. You are mine now, Ariana. You will suck my dick every morning and I will fuck your ass every night. Now get the fuck up.”

She stares up at him in horror as panic soars through me. “I’ve been waiting a long time for you, Ariana,” he warns when she doesn’t make a move to get up. “I’m going to make you regret the day you decided to be a little cock tease. From now on, you answer to me, and I swear to God, if you ever attempt to get away from me, I will destroy you. NOW MOVE.”

Ariana swallows hard, and having no choice with absolutely no way out, she shakily gets to her feet. Leaving her pants and torn underwear behind, Phillip grabs her by the back of her neck and pushes her through the cell door.

He leads her toward the stairs, and as she spares one last pleading look toward me, he drags her up them one by one, letting her know the vile things he plans on doing to her.

4

Four fucking days.

They’re not coming.

My gaze drops to Felicity and it’s clear how this is going to go. They abandoned her. They thought she was dead, and they left her to rot here as their father’s personal heir maker, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen to me, besides the baby thing. After the shit I’ve been through, statistically falling pregnant would be some kind of cosmic joke.

I was an idiot to remove that tracking device in my arm, but to be fair, Roman and Levi were trying to torture me … well, there was really no trying about it. They did it and they sure as hell succeeded. If they were graded, they would’ve received top marks for every aspect. Creepy comments. Tick. Sharp knives. Tick. Letting me think that I might just survive only to pull the rug out from under me. Tick, tick, fucking tick. What can I say? Those boys excel at everything they do, and torture is one of their many talents.

All I know is, the second I get out of this mess and call out the boys for not saving me sooner, I’ll be inserting that little tracking device right back into my arm. Fuck, I’ll do the procedure myself if I have to. I’ll even shove another one of those contraceptive rods back in as well. After all, now isn’t exactly a great time to have a baby around. Hell, I had one in my arms for all of thirty seconds before I lost him. Not to mention, Dill and Doe didn’t even have names until last week. What kind of shitty parenting is that?

The thought of Dill and Doe has my chest restricting. The last I saw of Dill he was fearlessly protecting me against Giovanni in the woods outside the mansion. That wolf deserves a medal … or at least the biggest steak I can find. Assuming he’s okay, of course. That bullet tore out of that gun and Dill’s devastating howl tore through the forest and broke me. I’ve never heard anything like it, but I have to believe that he is okay. I don’t know where I’d be if Dill didn’t make it.

Letting out a sigh, I find my gaze shifting back toward Ariana’s cell, but more importantly, the key that still dangles from the lock. It’s like some kind of cruel torture, dangling my freedom so close in front of my face, but just out of reach. I have bruised my arms and chest more than once over the past two days, trying to force myself through the bars just enough to grab hold of the stupid key. I’ve used my clothes as a lasso and attempted to scale the fucking bars to try and reach it with my legs. Typically, I’m not a desperate kind of girl, but fuck, I’ll do anything it takes to get my hands on that key.

The boys aren’t coming, and I’m done sitting around waiting for them to show up and save me. I should have been trying to save myself from the beginning, but a part of me still wants to blindly trust them, to believe they’re doing everything they can to try and find me.

They wouldn’t abandon me, not if they thought there was still hope, but I can’t sit around and do nothing anymore. No one has come down to check on me since Phillip disappeared with Ariana. I haven’t been fed. Haven’t received water. I’m dirty as fuck and the heat is wearing me down, not to mention the decaying body beside me isn’t looking so great.

Get out of here.

Slit Giovanni’s throat.

Save Roman’s baby.

Find Ariana.

End Phillip’s miserable life.

Fuck, I’m going to be a busy girl once I finally break free of this hell. My list just keeps growing. I feel like Arya Stark repeating my list over and over again, but it seems to be the only thing that helps to pass the time.

My mind keeps taking me back to Ariana’s face as Phillip dragged her out of here. I hate that woman, she’s a real cold bitch, but what she did for me down here … she saved me from that same fate. She made sure he didn’t harm me, and while I don’t understand her reasoning for wanting to protect me, I appreciate it all the same.

A loud grumble comes from upstairs just moments before the door swings open and I hear one of the guards on the stairs. Panic surges through me and I watch the stairs like a hawk, my heart thundering wildly in my chest. Without the boys by my side, that brave warrior I thought I could have been has quickly slipped away. I’m left with nothing but scars and memories to spur me on, and I just have to hope that’s enough to keep me going.

Another guard steps out behind him and the two of them make their way down the stairs, heavily thumping against the rickety metal steps. The whole staircase shakes beneath their weight and I’m sure if they moved their asses any faster, the whole thing would crumble beneath them.

They hit the bottom step and the guy in front hooks his fingers around the railing to propel himself around the corner, directly facing me as the other does the same, sending an intense fear rattling through my chest.

My body tenses. There’s at least another three women down here, but their attention is on me, and I don’t fucking like it. I hate not knowing, but to be honest, if something is going to happen, I’m glad it’s coming for me and not the other women who have been suffering down here for who knows how long. I don’t know what they did to land themselves in Giovanni’s desert prison, but I’m certain they don’t deserve to be here, just as I don’t. I haven’t spoken to them, and they haven’t attempted conversation with me either, but one look at them tells me they’ve already given up on any chance of survival.

Not me though.

The men stride toward me with scowls stretched across their faces. “Get up,” the guy in front mutters, wiping his forearm over his sweat-soaked, dirty face, his lips curling into a sadistic grin. “It’s your lucky day.”

I don’t dare move, knowing all too well that their version of ‘my lucky day’ is far from what I would consider lucky, and if anything, they’re probably down here to fuck me while no one is around to hear me scream.

He stops at the door of my cell and his friend moves in beside him, his filthy gaze slowly scanning over my blood-stained body. “He told you to get up,” he leers. “Don’t make him ask again.”

My gaze shifts back to the first guy and seeing the cocky confidence stretched over his face, I reluctantly pull myself to my feet, knowing that resisting is only going to make it worse for me. I hover by the back of my cell, keeping as far as I can from the men, but when a key clinks in the lock and the heavy door slides open with a metallic BANG, I realize I don’t stand a chance.

Swallowing hard, I keep my stare sharp, watching their every little move as they advance into my cell. They storm toward me, and I back up until the hard surface of the stone wall slams against my back. “Don’t touch me,” I spit, yanking my arm away as the guards attempt to grab me.

The guard who spoke first laughs, the corner of his lips lifting in a sickening sneer. “Don’t worry, princess. We’re not here to fuck you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The other guard scoffs and looks down at my body in disgust. “Not that we would anyway. Look at you, covered in your own piss and that bitch’s dried blood. Couldn’t get me to touch you, not even if you paid me.”

Relief swarms through me but it still doesn’t explain what the fuck they’re doing in here.

The first guard grips my elbow and yanks me toward him, but my lack of energy has me falling into him. He catches me in strong hands and forces me in front of him, gripping the top of my arms in a bruising hold. He shoves me forward and I try to resist, pulling back against him, too scared of what the outside of this cell could mean for me. “Where are you taking me?” I demand, my fingers gripping the metal bar of the cell.

“Time for a bath,” he murmurs in my ear, the sick bastard getting off on my fear. His friend steps into my side and pries my fingers from the bar. I relentlessly try to hold on, but after a moment of struggle, he brings his knee up and slams it against my wrist. A wailing scream tears out of me as a dull throbbing shoots through my hand and I’m forced to release the bar.

The guard holding me doesn’t miss his chance and pushes me out the door of the cell as his friend laughs and follows us through. He releases my arms and pushes me hard, sending me sprawling across the basement.

I face plant into the bars of Ariana’s empty cell and barely catch myself before he’s on me again. He grabs my waist and spins me around before slamming my back against the metal bar. “What do you want with me?” I spit, tasting blood in my mouth as my cheek aches from the face plant.

“You get to go home,” he tells me, a wicked secret hidden deep within his eyes as his friend strides down the opposite end of the hall, his footfalls making a haunting echo through the remaining empty cells.

My brows furrow and I look back at him with a daunting confusion. “Home?” I question, not trusting him for a second, especially with that wicked gleam sparkling in his eyes.

He steps into me and I suck in a deep breath, preparing myself for the worst as my fingers knot around the closest bar, my knuckles turning white as I grip them with everything I’ve got. “That’s right,” he tells me, the venomous tone in his voice sending a wave of unease pulsing through my veins as a deafening motor drums to life. “You’re going home. It might not be the home that you were hoping for, but I’m sure you’ll be very comfortable there.”

I stare up at him, the ugly realization dawning on me. “He sold me.”

“He sure fucking did,” he booms, laughing with delight as the other guy returns with a thick, black fire hose that looks as though it could tear my skin right off my body. “And when your new owner gets here, you better look fucking perfect.” He grips my chin, tearing it up to meet his dark stare. “You’re going to smile. You’re going to spread your fucking legs. And you’re going to fucking love it. Got it, bitch? If you blow this and make me look like a fucking idiot in front of Giovanni, I will make you wish you were never born.”

He releases my chin with a harsh shove and the back of my head rebounds off the metal bar. A pained grunt tears from my lips, but before I get the chance to truly process what this means, water shoots from the fire hose.

The freezing water blasts against my skin like a million knives tearing into my flesh and I scream out as the two of them laugh. My old, torn clothes work as a barrier between the freezing water and my scarred flesh, but it’s not nearly enough to save me from the fierce agony that shoots through my body.

I turn, unable to handle the force of the cold water against my chest and allow my back to take the brunt of the pain. The hose travels up and down, and I flinch as they send the water shooting between my legs. They laugh, my misery their greatest pleasure.

Felicity’s dried blood washes from my body as I drop to the ground, crying in pain as I fall onto my sore wrist, my skin turning an angry shade of red. They step in closer and grab my arm, flipping me over to make sure they get every little crevice of my body.

The water blasts against my face and my arms shoot up, desperately trying to protect myself as I listen to their howling laughs. The blasting water slams against my head, washing out the filth that’s matted into my hair over the past few days, and it’s the most horrendous thing I have ever endured. The pressure is insane, and it feels as though the water could literally fracture my skull.

Their relentless torture continues until the water rushing off me finally runs clear, but the water doesn’t stop, it’s simply redirected toward my cell where he hoses down Felicity’s decaying body and clears away the blood staining the floor.

The guard who grabbed me steps in closer and curls his hand around my arm, yanking me to my feet. “Would you look at that,” he mutters, his gaze dropping down my clean, wet body as I stand before him looking like a drowned rat. “You might have a little something to offer me after all.”

Dread sinks into my chest as he laughs and reaches for his belt buckle. “It’d be a shame to let you go without test driving you first.” A cocky grin stretches over his lips as he glances back over his shoulder at his colleague. “What do you think, Jase? Should we take her for a ride?”

The other guy laughs. “I don’t see why not? After all, we’ve been stuck out here in the desert for weeks and I’ll be damned if I don’t get something out of it.”

Hell to the motherfucking no. Not today, assholes.

My gaze sweeps around the cells as my heart thunders in my chest, but nothing scares me more than the soft jingle of his belt coming undone. I glance up at the top of the stairs as he grips onto my waist, his fingers digging into my raw skin. “Don’t even think about running,” he spits. “There’s nowhere you can go where I won’t find you.”

My hand stretches out as he grabs the top of my soaking pants. “Now spread those fucking legs.”

My fingers curl around the old iron key left in Ariana’s cell door, and I yank it out just moments before swinging my arm in a shallow arc, remembering Marcus’ finest lesson—when in doubt, aim for an artery. I stab the blunt tip of the old key right through the side of his neck, needing every bit of strength I have to pierce through his thick layer of skin.

The key sinks deep into his neck until it has nowhere else to go, and I clench my jaw as his eyes go wide, barely registering what the fuck just happened. A fierce battle cry tears out of me, and with every bit of determination I have, I rip the key out again, the metal prongs on the side tearing through his flesh like butter.

Blood spurts from his artery, splattering right across the dirty, wet cells, turning me a sickening shade of bright red. I can’t help but think of Marcus. He lives for this kind of shit, and I know he’d be proud, but now is not the time to dwell.

Blood soaks me as he slams his hand against his neck, his face turning white. It happens so quickly that the guy with the hose barely has a second to look over his shoulder before his colleague is dropping to his knees.

“Fuck,” I grunt, having to move fast as the other guy drops the fire hose and sprints toward me. I fall with the bleeding guy and hope he has some kind of weapon on him, but I get nowhere before the other man is on me, the pressure from the wild hose sending it flying around like a disaster waiting to happen.

He yanks me up, gripping my arm so tight that it cuts off my circulation. He spins me and slams my chest against the metal bars. “My, oh my. You are a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he purrs, leaning into me, letting me feel his excitement pressing up against my ass. “Giovanni isn’t going to like—oomph.”

My ass slams back against his junk and he buckles, loosening his hold just enough for me to slip out of his grasp. “Fuck, you little bitch,” he roars as I spin around and slam my knee up hard enough to crush his balls.

“That was for my fucking wrist, asshole,” I spit as I dash back, skipping over his dead colleague and splashing my bare feet down into the pool of blood beneath him.

Every little nerve within me screams to head for the stairs and break free of this fucked-up little dungeon, but I can’t get there without putting myself right in the line of fire, and I can’t leave this dungeon until he stops breathing. It’s a desert outside these walls, and I won’t survive out there, not with him coming after me. So instead, I race in the opposite direction to where the wild hose is flying around the back of the cells.

The blasting water sprays around the cell, soaking everything in its path, its reckless pressure making it fly around like a blow-up air dancer outside a used-auto dealership. I race for it, momentarily putting me right in its path. The water blasts across my chest and I suck in a loud gasp, pushing through the stabbing pain as I dart out of its way.

My hands grip the nozzle and I put my weight over it to try and control its wild flailing before turning it on the fucker who sprayed me in the first place. He stands crouched by the stairs, gripping the railing to keep from falling as he groans in agony, his balls hopefully shredding inside his pants. His jaw clenches and he glares at me with a ferociousness that would have any woman trembling, but I’ve got the upper hand here and I will not back down, not now.

With his balls crushed, there’s nowhere for him to go, and I don’t miss my opportunity. Turning the violent spray on him, I push the little lever as far as it goes, upping the pressure and slamming it directly into his chest. The momentum pushes him back, whooshing him right off his feet until his back rams up against the metal bars.

His high-pitched scream tears through the basement, the sound absolutely sickening, but I don’t dare relent as I struggle to hold onto the thick hose, the pressure threatening to lift me off my feet. Instead, I put everything I have into it as I move closer toward him, the water keeping him pinned to the bars.

His scream is blood curdling and guilt fires through me, but assholes like this don’t deserve to live, especially if it’s a me or him type situation. I have to end him.

Drawing on every last bit of my DeAngelis vibes, I raise the nozzle of the hose and watch as the spray of water slams over his face. He instantly starts choking on the water, blubbering, and trying to catch a breath around it, but I don’t stop, knowing damn well that given the chance, he sure as fuck would have tried the same thing on me. Hell, if they didn’t have orders from Giovanni to prepare me for a buyer, then I probably would have already suffered the same fate.

Holding the hose still burns my muscles, but I fight against it, my determination winning out as his blubbering and cries slowly begin to fade. His hands droop but just to be sure, I keep the hose aimed at his face a while longer. When I’m finally met with a loud silence, I remove the spray from the guard and watch as he drops to the ground beside his colleague.

The hose sags in my hands as I turn it off, and the loud motor finally falls silent. Fear pounds in my chest as I creep toward the two bodies, waiting for them to spring to life again. “Fucking hell,” I breathe. Two bodies in less than two minutes. The boys will be proud, assuming I ever see them again to tell the story … and assuming they’re still alive, but I have to believe they are. They’re my only hope of survival.

Not knowing what’s going on upstairs, or if there’s even anybody up there, I pat my hands over the guards’ bodies until I finally find what I’m looking for. My fingers curl around the handle of a knife, and I tear it from its holster before cringing. The blade slices through the drowned man’s throat and blood spills like a waterfall over his chest, but I can’t take the chance that he will survive this.

Then grabbing the blood-soaked key, I turn toward the other cells, determined to get us all out of here alive.

5

The cell door squeals as I slide it open. “Come on,” I rush out, staring at the woman who’s been locked down here for what looks like months, her hair matted and clothes falling off her boney frame. “We have to get out of here. Hurry up.”

She gapes at me, furiously shaking her head and she bounds to her feet and grips the metal door. She yanks on it hard until the heavy metal slams shut with a loud, echoing BANG. “Get out of here, girl,” she spits, terror in her eyes. “Giovanni will have your head for this.”

My brows crease as I stare back at her, trying to pull the door free again. “What the hell is wrong with you? We have to go now.”

“NO,” she roars at me, spittle hitting my face. “I’d rather die in this cell than be on the run from those bastards again. Do you have any idea what that was like? They leave me alone down here. Just GO. LEAVE ME BE.”

Fucking hell.

My lips press into a hard line and for a brief moment, I consider knocking the woman out and dragging her by the hair, but what good would that do me? If there are more men upstairs, I’ll be fucked and so would she. There’s just no helping people who don’t want to be helped.

The other two women though … I’d seen their bodies in the strained light, heard soft mumblings over the past few days, yet at some point, they’d slowly faded away, leaving this world without me even knowing.

Against my better judgment, I turn to the stairs and let out a heavy breath while clutching the knife tightly in my hand. I don’t know what I’m about to find up there, but now is my only shot, assuming those cameras up in the corner of the cells actually work.

My knees shake and I take my first step up, fearing for absolutely everything. My sanity. My life. Hell, even the woman left down here behind me, though it didn’t escape my notice that she never threw away the key dangling from the lock.

Reaching the top step, I pause as my hand curls around the door handle.

Here goes nothing. It’s either die fighting, or be sold to some arrogant bastard who, no doubt, will make me beg for the sweet release of death.

Turning the handle, I push the door open just a sliver and am smacked in the face with a wave of cool air conditioning before I peer out the small gap. I hear soft murmuring coming from an adjoining room and footsteps in the opposite direction. There’s a good chance that the murmuring is coming from a television, but there’s no way to be sure.

Letting out a shaky breath, I go for it.

The door creaks as I push it open, instantly giving me away. My heart leaps into the back of my throat and I dart toward the sound of the maybe-television. “How’d that little bitch taste?” Comes a laugh from a man sitting in an old dirty recliner.

His head tilts up and he meets my terrified stare immediately. His eyes go wide but his reaction time is far too slow as I reach him only a second later. I push back on the recliner and the chair instantly falls back, the man struggling to get out of it as I slam my hand down over his mouth and dig the sharp blade of the knife deep into his throat.

I press down harder over his mouth as my eyes flick between him and the big entrance of the living room, certain that our struggle is going to alert anyone else in the old, dingy house.

Blood pours from his open throat and he quickly suffocates on his own blood, his body relaxing under my hold. I don’t waste a second, gluing my back to the wall and creeping through the house, my heart hammering wildly in my chest while knowing the only reason I’m able to put these assholes to sleep is because I hold the element of surprise. Without that, I’m fucked.

“Yo, Ralph,” a voice hollers from the opposite room. There’s a short pause before a muttered curse flows through the air. “Ralph. Where the fuck are you at?”

The man pauses again before muttering to himself, clearly irritated with being ignored. “For fuck’s sake,” he says louder, dropping something on the counter with a loud clang before I hear him crossing through the kitchen.

The footfalls take him toward the living room where I’d just slaughtered his friend and my whole body tenses. “I’m fucking talking to—”

His words fall away before I hear an irritated, “fuck,” breathed through the room.

My gaze shifts toward the front door. It would only take a second to pull it open and sprint out into the hot desert, but without food and water for the past four days, and this asshole racing after me, I’ll only get so far before I’m dragged back with a vengeance.

I have to stay, and I have to make it count.

The man slowly makes his way around the house, and I hear his every step, taunting me like a sick promise to end my miserable life. “Where are you, pretty girl?” he questions, instantly knowing that it’s me up here and not any of Giovanni’s other prisoners. After all, no one has come down to check on us in days, he probably has no idea that the other two women are dead. Giovanni though … I get the distinct feeling that he would.

“Come out, come out wherever you are.”

A shiver trails down my spine and I clutch the knife a little tighter, sliding myself along the wall to get a better vantage point of the house. Listening carefully, I track his movements through the property and take note of exactly where he is and what direction he’s taking.

The footsteps fade away into the distance, and my heart pounds just a little harder, making my hands quiver at my sides.

Not wanting to stand here with a target painted on my back, I keep sliding across the wall, each sidestep taken with caution until I’m able to peer around the corner into the kitchen. As I do, I find a grinning man staring right back at me.

My eyes bug out of my head as a sharp squeal tears from the back of my throat. I take off like a fucking rocket, my feet pounding against the old floorboards as the man darts after me, his hand shooting out and capturing my hair into his fist. He yanks back and my body falls to the ground with a loud bang, the sound rocking right through the old home.

The man laughs as he circles me, his wicked gaze locked on mine. “What’s the matter, pretty girl? I just wanted to talk.”

Yeah right.

I scramble across the floor and the asshole jumps forward, his heavy boot slamming down over my long, wet hair and keeping me pinned. A loud wail tears out of me as I grip my trapped strands and desperately try to pull free.

The man laughs as tears well in my eyes. “You’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here,” he spits, shifting his weight just enough to press his other foot down over my chest, giving him a bigger advantage than I ever should have allowed. One more shift of his weight and the fucker could crush me like a damn bug.

My hand clenches and before allowing myself a chance to think about what I’m doing, my hand flies up. The blade glistens in the hot afternoon sun streaming through the window just moments before it plunges deep into the back of his calf.

The man screams but I’m not nearly done as I pull down hard and slice the whole fucking muscle off the back of his leg as though I was carving a fucking Thanksgiving turkey. Blood spills all over me as the man stumbles back and falls to the ground, his face turning a sickly shade of white.

He howls in agony and the sound is like music to my ears. I get up off the ground, my knees shaking beneath me and as I turn to look at the man, I know just how effortlessly I could end his life. “Do it,” he spits at me, the agony too much for him to bear. “FUCKING DO IT.”

A grin tears across my face, and rather than putting him out of his misery, I simply turn and race for the door as his pained screams fill the space behind me. It won’t be long and he’ll be dead, but knowing that he’ll go in pain makes something stir deep in my gut, something that makes me feel like a fucking queen.

The door slams behind me, but I’m not foolish enough to take my time. I run, slamming one foot down after another, the blistering afternoon sun bearing down on me. It takes only a minute before a light sweat coats my body and my mouth immediately goes dry, sucking in the hot desert air.

The blood coating my skin quickly dries, and as I come down from my high and think over everything I just did, a harsh panic tears through my chest. I’m a fucking killer, through and through. I was relentless and brutal, but what can I say? I was trained by the absolute best in the business. They’ll be so proud to hear that I didn’t just back down and accept what they wanted to do with me, but they’re also moments that will live on in my head for a long time to come.

What I did here today cost me and has brought a darkness over my soul, but in the end, all that matters is that I’m free. At least for now. I’m stuck out in the desert and have no idea how far the nearest property is or how long it will be before I can get help. Hell, just because Giovanni’s men couldn’t kill me, doesn’t mean that coyotes won’t once the sun goes down.

All I see for miles is dirt and trees. No water. No pathways. No clear roads to walk along. I’m out here all alone with nowhere to run and absolutely nowhere to hide.

At least an hour passes before the afternoon sun is dropping lower in the sky, sending my shadow spiraling out before me, distorting my figure. I hear nothing but my feet dragging through the dirt and my rough panting as I try to swallow to keep my throat from completely drying out.

I glance back over my shoulder, and while it feels like I’ve been walking for a lifetime, I can still clearly see the house in the distance. The blood covering my body is well and truly dried, and although their version of a bath was one of the most horrendous things I’ve endured, it went a long way in making me feel clean. My hair is no longer matted and while my clothes are dirty again, they don’t have that awful scent of decaying flesh.

My feet ache against the hard ground and I wish for the millionth time that I had worn shoes when I went bounding out of the DeAngelis mansion after Dill. It would have made my life a million times easier. Hell, if I had just allowed the wolf to take the freaking purple dick, I wouldn’t be in this situation at all and Dill would be just fine … at least, I hope he is. I have to believe that he is, because the alternative … fuck, I can’t go there.

A soft hum breaks the silence, and my head snaps up, my heart pounding erratically as I fear the worst. A black car speeds through the desert in the distance, kicking up dust beneath the tires and sending an overwhelming wave of panic through my veins. This property is the only property out here for miles. There’s no way in hell that this car is just out here lost. This is one of Giovanni’s men, or hell, it’s Giovanni himself.

My feet come to an abrupt stop as I look around, desperate for some kind of escape, but where the hell can I go? If I can see the car, the occupants inside of it can sure as fuck see me too.

I didn’t come this far just to be railroaded now.

Those guards said something about a buyer who was coming to get me … fuck.

The car speeds through the desert at ridiculous speeds, and as it gets closer, I can make out the shape. It’s not just some small-town car but a big SUV. The late sun hits the windshield and makes it impossible to see the people inside, but what’s the point in looking? It probably has blacked out windows anyway.

With fear ruling my every move, I take off at a sprint in the opposite direction, away from both the car and the house, taking me deeper into the desert. I quickly drain what’s left of my energy as the car continues hurtling toward me, my pathetic pained run laughable against a speed like that.

Time slows, and as I run, my throat becomes drier and my pace slower as though the universe is punishing me for loving my new life with three well-known serial killers. I pant, struggling with every step I take, and as tears form in my eyes, the black SUV flies around me, cutting me off and forcing me to an abrupt stop.

The tires screech as the driver hits the brakes, the heavy vehicle skidding along the dirt, struggling to find traction as dust flies up around it like a daunting storm cloud. The passenger side door flies open and a man storms toward me, my energy finally gives out and I drop to my knees.

6

Levi flies out of the passenger side door as Marcus hurtles after him, racing toward me as my dirty knees sink lower into the hard ground. Heavy sobs tear from the back of my throat seeing a big, black wolf bounding toward me, one wolf, not two. Once Levi reaches me, Roman jerks the SUV to a stop and bails from the driver’s door.

Hot sobs tear from my throat as I bury my head in my hands, and just as I expect Levi to scoop me up, he continues around me, drawing his gun and holding his arm out straight. Doe’s ferocious low growl fills the silence before two loud bullets ring out through the late afternoon.

Marcus hits the ground, his strong arms curling around my body and pulling me into his familiar chest. I peer out behind us, straining my neck to find a body sprawled over the ground at least half a mile back.

“Shit,” I breathe, recognizing the guard I knocked out on my first day here, the guy I’d dropped down in the cells so I could get to Felicity. I figured Giovanni would have killed him after he let me get the best of him. I should have checked every room in the house before running out of there. Hell, the fucker was probably taking a shit while everything was going on and had absolutely no idea that every last man in the place had been brutally murdered.

Marcus’ warmth surrounds me as he holds me to his chest and I turn into him, listening to the rapid beat of his heart as I try to calm myself. “You’re safe, babe. We’ve got you. I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

I close my eyes, sinking deeper into his hold as Levi and Roman hover around me, the comfort of their safety immediately taking the weight off my shoulders. Doe presses her side into me, her silent way of checking that I’m alright, and after a short breath, she takes off like a bullet toward the man behind me.

Breathing in Marcus’ familiar scent, a tear falls down my cheek, mixing into the grime and dirt coating my skin. “You came,” I breathe, still unable to believe the bullshit that went down inside that property. Hell, I was starting to believe that I was never going to see them again.

Roman reaches down and takes my hand from around Marcus’ neck. “Damn fucking right, we did,” he tells me. “I just wish we’d gotten to you sooner. The shit we had to do to find you…”

I nod, knowing all too well what kind of shit they would have done because it probably reflects the kind of shit I had to do too. “I thought,” I start, having to stop and swallow past my dry throat. “I thought you weren’t going to come.”

Levi crouches down and takes my chin in his hands, forcing my exhausted stare to his. “I would have moved heaven and hell to get to you,” he rumbles low, the agony in his voice telling me just how scared he’s been over the last few days.

Holding his stare, I let him see the true horror living deep within my eyes. “I killed them all,” I tell him, my voice cracking with a pained sob, knowing Marcus and Roman are listening intently. “I … the things …”

My words fall away but there’s no need to say them, they understand more than anyone else what this little adventure has cost me.

“Shhhhh,” Levi murmurs, trailing his fingers over the side of my face as we hear Doe’s low growl in the distance. “It’s over now. We’ve got you.”

Those words dance in my mind like ice water on a hot summer’s day, calming the terror pulsing through my veins. I allow them to truly sink in, to take away the fear and allow my heart to finally stop racing. I’m safe now. They’ve got me. They came for me and now we can go home.

Marcus’ hands slip under my ass, lifting us both up from the dirty ground. Refusing to let me go, he strides back toward the big SUV with Roman and Levi at his sides. The knowledge of finally being able to get out of here, to be able to eat, drink, and sleep in peace settles over me like a warm blanket on a cold night. The idea of safety and comfort makes me feel like the weight of the world has finally been lifted.

Marcus climbs in the backseat of the SUV, keeping me in his lap as Levi and Roman get in. A bottle of water sails between the seats, and Marcus quickly grabs it before cracking the lid. He holds it up for me to take small sips, and just as Roman hits the gas, a loud gasp tears from the back of my throat. “DOE,” I rush out, gaping as I stare through the window, desperately searching for the precious wolf who’s become one of my closest friends.

Marcus trails his fingers over my cheek, wiping a stray tear I wasn’t aware of. “She’s fine. We’re not leaving just yet.”

My brows furrow and my heart kicks into gear realizing that Roman is heading right for the house. I shake my head, not wanting to witness the bloody massacre all over again. “No,” I rush out, the fear clear in my eyes. “I don’t want to go back there. Please, Roman. Please. Take me home. I can’t. I can’t go back in there.”

He meets my terrified stare in the rearview mirror, and I see the regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Empress. We have to,” he tells me. “It’s been four fucking days and we don’t have a goddamn clue where my father has disappeared. No one has heard from him, and that fucked-up cabin could hold the information we need. We can’t leave. Not yet.”

“You can stay in the car,” Levi suggests. “No one is forcing you back in there.”

I swallow hard as the SUV rolls to a stop next to the body of the man that was following me for the past few hours. Roman lowers his window, and when his hand falls out of the car, I hear Doe’s low growl just outside. Just as I’m about to ask what the fuck is going on, a loud gunshot rings out and the need to question fades away. He was making sure the guard was well and truly dead, just as I should have done before walking out of there. Had the boys not come for me, that bastard would have got to me the second I decided to rest.

Roman hits the gas again sailing through the desert with dirt flying up in a thick cloud behind the car. I can’t help but glance out the window and watch as Doe runs effortlessly beside us, her long strides matching our speed with ease, despite the heat and dry air. She’s an absolute goddess, so sleek and dark as night with the ability to tear a man to shreds.

An image of Dill rushes through my mind, but I hold back any questions that I don't want the answers to right now. I'm not ready to hear that he's gone, not ready to feel that overwhelming grief when I'm already dealing with so much.

We reach the old house in no time and bile rises in my throat seeing the bloodied footprints leading out of the door. Roman brings the car to a stop and a shudder runs through me. “You’re okay,” Marcus reminds me, his soft fingers on my skin feeling like a million tiny knives.

Shaking my head, I try to focus on anything but the house. I can’t go in there, but I can’t be left out here alone. The fear of … fuck, the fear of everything. It’s too much. I just need today to cry, to be overwhelmed and emotional. I need a good sleep and some food and after that, I’ll come back. I’ll learn how to put it all behind me and move on, but until then, I have every right to be a fucking mess.

Roman and Levi push their doors wide and make their way out of the SUV as I remain seated on Marcus’ lap, the indecision clouding me, but as the boys start walking closer to the house and I feel the safety of their arms going with them, I reluctantly pull myself off Marcus’ lap and push my way out of the SUV.

Doe waits for us on the small porch, her tongue hanging out of her mouth as she pants from the long run. Levi stops by her and uncaps the lid of a water bottle before glancing around. He finds a broken pot that looks as though it got into a fight with a gun and came off worse for it, though it’s still deep enough to serve as a water bowl for now. He fills it as much as he can, and Doe dives straight in, her long tongue desperately scooping the cool water into her mouth and instantly making me jealous.

“Here,” Levi mutters, seeing the look on my face and offering me what’s left of the bottle. I take it graciously and lift it to my lips, the cool water instantly soaking down my sore, scratchy throat and making it a million times easier to breathe.

Not wanting to give it up, I hold onto the bottle like a security blanket as Marcus moves in behind me. The door has been left open and Roman pushes against it, letting it swing the rest of the way before peering in.

Dread fills me knowing what he must see inside, and I watch as his brows arch, intrigue settling over his handsome features. “What the ever-loving …”

I cringe as he trails off. It doesn’t take a genius to know where he was going with that. I’m a fucking savage. Most people in my situation would have just stabbed the guy, but not me. I had to slice half his fucking leg off.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Roman steps over the threshold and the rest of us trail in behind him. “Are you sure everyone is dead?” Levi questions as his gaze settles on the man slouched against the wall, sitting in a pool of his own blood as his calf muscle, perfectly sliced and diced, rests by his foot. “There were no other guards?”

I shake my head, unable to look away from the man. “I … I thought I got them all, but then that guy outside…”

Levi nods as I trail off, understanding what wasn’t spoken out loud—that I wasn’t nearly as thorough as I should have been, and they need to be prepared that someone could jump out at any time to try and finish the job. Though the idea of that happening now that the boys are here doesn’t scare me nearly as much as it had before.

Hands fall to my waist, and I feel Marcus moving in behind me as I glance over my shoulder at the calfless man on the ground. “Well fuck me in the ass and call me Fred,” he beams, his fingers tightening on my waist with the utmost pride and respect. “Did you do this all by yourself?”

I swallow and glance back at him, trying to get a read on his face to make sure I’m not imagining things. “I, umm … yeah.”

“Fucking hell,” he murmurs, shaking his head in astonishment. “Look at that splatter and positioning. It’s like a fucking work of art. This is incredible. I couldn’t have done it better myself.” His gaze drops to meet my stare, his brow furrowing, and for just a brief moment, I could have sworn that a flicker of nervousness sweeps through his gaze. “Did you …” he cringes, pausing for the quickest beat. “Did you want me to box up the calf? I can preserve it for you like a fucking trophy. I know that tongue in my room freaks you the fuck out, but this … fuck, babe. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”

I arch a brow, the need to feel guilt over what I’ve done quickly fading away. “You know, the sincerity in your eyes sometimes makes me forget just how fucked up you really are,” I tell him. “Have at the calf. It’s all yours, but just so you know, that thing is not coming home with me in the car. You can strap it to the roof.”

Marcus beams at me as though all his Christmases have come at once. “I’m going to etch your name into his skin and put it on display,” he tells me as though it’s the greatest honor. “Have I ever told you how fucking incredible you are? Every time you’re thrown into some bullshit situation and I think you’re about to break, you go and do something that blows me away. Holy fucking shit, babe. If you don’t let me worship you for the rest of your goddamn life …”

“If you’re done getting hard over the guy’s leg,” Roman mutters, done with his brother’s overwhelming adoration. “We have a house to check.”

Marcus rolls his eyes but nonetheless, takes my hand and leads me through the house. I watch the boys carefully, seeing how they silently take in each room, making sense of everything that went down just by looking at the mess I left behind. They don’t ask questions, and I sure as hell don’t offer any answers, but I don’t need to.

They look behind every door, not leaving a single stone unturned while checking over every little detail that I missed. Phone numbers scrawled on torn paper, the amount of dishes in the sink, the trash sprawled throughout every single room. The disappointment torn across each of their faces tells me that they didn’t find what they were looking for.

“Come on,” Roman finally says. “Let’s check out the basement and then we can get out of here. Shayne looks like she could use a decent meal, a shower, and her own fucking bed.”

The boys nod and as Roman reaches for the small handle of the basement, my heart breaks recalling exactly what—or who—he would see down there.

Breaking free of Marcus’ hold, I race toward Roman as the door swings open, my heart pounding wildly with desperation to save him from the horrors he’ll find. “WAIT,” I rush out, barging out in front of him and squeezing myself between him and the door, bracing my hands on either side as the overwhelming smell of her decaying body rushes through the open door.

Roman stares at me, reading my body language as though it was scrawled across my forehead in bright red marker. “What don’t you want me to see?” he demands, his eyes narrowing to slits as that terrifying scar reminds me how careful I need to be when it comes to Felicity.

“Can you smell that?” Marcus murmurs, quickly glancing toward Levi as the three of them crowd around me, their interest piqued.

Levi nods and I glance up at him, my distraction only frustrating Roman more. “Shayne,” he snaps. “Tell me what the fuck is going on. Now.”

Fuck.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart falling right out of my chest and landing in a messy heap on my sleeve for the whole fucking world to see. I know he sees the pain and regret stretched over my face, and judging by the terror starting to form in his eyes, he knows exactly where this is going. “When I got here … she … I couldn’t …”

“Who’s she?” he growls, the sound vibrating right through his chest and sending a wave of unease sailing through my bones.

A heavy lump forms in my throat and devastation washes over me, but the longer I take to say it, the worse it’s going to be, so I suck it up, knowing that he needs this so much more than I do. “Felicity,” I finally say, my voice breaking with regret.

Roman doesn’t even give me a chance to explain before he grabs hold of me and throws me back toward his brothers with a ruthless force that knocks me right off my feet. And just like that, he’s gone, his footfalls echoing through the massive basement as he races toward the woman he loves.

The woman who will never be me.

7

Roman

Shayne’s body flies from my hands. I’m distantly aware of my brothers catching her before she falls, and fuck, I know I pushed her way too hard, but the moment Felicity’s sweet name came trembling from between her lips, all train of thought left me.

Nothing else matters except getting to her.

Taking two steps at a time, I race down into the basement that looks like a fucking whore house gone wrong. Cells line every fucking wall, half of them open, half of them with random women, their backs against the hard concrete, but the void of color in their cheeks tells me they’re long gone.

Two guards lay at the bottom of the steps, one with a gaping hole in the side of his neck while the other has a slit throat, but the way the blood sits over his body makes it clear the fucker was already dead before she cut him.

Without skipping a beat, I launch myself over the side of the rusted railing, not wanting to waste precious moments scrambling over their bodies as I try to find my girl. The guards aren’t important. We can circle back to that once I’ve got Felicity back in my arms.

My feet slam against the concrete ground and I barely notice the soft splash beneath them before glancing down to find the basement floor soaked with water, not even the desert heat doing enough to dry this out. I want to pause to ask what the fuck is going on, but there will be time to answer questions afterward.

I look over every fucking cell, desperate to see those rosy cheeks and that beautiful long blonde hair, but I find nothing, and the desperation quickly sets in as I hear my brothers and Shayne on the stairs. How the fuck could Shayne do this? She just left her behind to rot in a fucking cell. I know she was fighting for her life, but leaving her? I thought Shayne was better than that. I know we had a rocky start, but we moved past that. I thought we were cool now. I’ll never let her live this down. Something else has to be going on. There has to be more to the story.

“FELICITY,” I call, my panic starting to overwhelm me as I find myself spinning, looking back and forth, trying to get to her. There’s a woman at the opposite end and she gapes at me in horror before hiding her face and scrambling back in her cell as though I’m here to rain hell over her, but to be completely honest, I couldn’t give a shit about her. The cell is open so she’s free to leave whenever the hell she wants.

I was so sure that Felicity was dead when her body gave out in my arms, but Marcus was right about her being his shooter. I just couldn't entertain the idea that the love of my life was still out there, fighting for hers in a world I was supposed to protect her from. She was so innocent, thrown into this bullshit just like Shayne was, only she wasn’t as strong as Shayne. Felicity needed me; our baby needed me. The girl I once knew would have never shot my brother. Our father put her up to it; there is no other explanation.

But there’s still time to turn this around. I’m here now, and I can bring her home, protect her, start over again in the hope that one day she’ll forgive me for abandoning her here for so long.

I could have killed my brother when that accusation came flying out of Shayne’s mouth at my dining table. How dare he try to fuck with her memory like that? But he kept at it, determined that it was her, and I was a fucking idiot for not believing him. I saw the signs and I ignored every last one of them. There is still time. If I’d only listened, if I’d given it the time of day, I could have saved her from this bullshit.

My father will pay for keeping her from me. I’ll fucking destroy him for this.

My gaze skims over a cell that has signs of an attack, torn underwear, dried blood, and a pair of pants that are inside out. My mind takes me to the worst fucking place, and I find myself looking up at Shayne. There’s something oddly familiar about those pants. They’re not Shayne’s though. She’s still fully dressed in the clothes she was wearing the day she was taken.

Felicity. They must be hers.

“Where the fuck is she?” I roar, looking up and meeting Shayne’s stare on the steps, hiding behind my brothers as though she’s terrified that I’m about to take out my frustrations on her. I would never hurt her like that, not after the bullshit I’ve already put her through, but fuck, if one of my brothers wanted to try me right now, I’d be more than happy to take my guilt out on them.

Shayne nods toward the cell just down from me and points. “She’s in there,” she starts. “But—”

I break away, spinning on my heel and darting toward the cell to find a fucking mess. “FELICITY,” I rush out, my brothers racing down the rest of the stairs.

“Roman, wait,” I hear Shayne calling out, whatever she needs to say is not important right now, all that matters is getting to Felicity.

I reach her cell within two big strides and dive through the open door, my gaze shooting down to the body sprawled out on the floor, unable to understand what the fuck I’m looking at. This isn’t my Felicity. This is … this is nothing but a shell. Her stomach is swollen and her bright blonde hair dirty and matted. Those lips that would brush against mine are thin and gray, the color completely drained from her body. Her stiff, decaying body.

“Fuck,” I hear Marcus moving in behind me, his hand falling to my shoulder and making me realize that I’m on my knees.

I reach out to her, gripping onto her perfect, delicate little hand unable to believe what I’m seeing. She can’t be dead, not when I only just got her back. My hand clenches around hers, the red-hot anger burning through me. She looks as though she’s been gone for at least a few days, and that realization has pure agony spearing through my chest.

My eyes sting, a feeling I’ve never experienced before, and I want nothing more than to sink my fingers into someone’s chest and tear their heart right out of their body.

“FUCK,” I roar, this feeling weighing down on me, something I haven’t felt since that night my father stormed the castle and shot her through the chest. She was supposed to be gone then. I’d come to terms with it, but she’s been alive this whole fucking time and I left her here to rot, left her in my father’s grasps, too fucking overwhelmed by grief and anger to even question it.

I failed her. I let her down and I’ll never fucking forgive myself.

A broken sigh sounds beside me, and I feel Shayne’s presence like a fucking beacon calling to me. “How?” I breathe, the word getting stuck in my throat.

She moves in closer, and it somehow makes the pain just a little more tolerable. She drops to her knees, looking down at Felicity as though they were best friends. She reaches out and brushes the matted strands of hair off her face, revealing the sunken hollows of her cheeks, cheeks that were once full of life.

“Your father has kept her locked up this whole time,” Shayne starts, lowering her voice to a whisper as she struggles to get the words out. “The night I got here was when it happened. She was all alone in here, already in labor. She was screaming. I’ll never forget it. I was locked up across the basement, but I couldn’t ignore it. They were just upstairs, acting as though nothing was happening and I …”

She trails off, realizing there are more important things she needs to share right now. “I knocked out one of the guards … the one you just shot outside, and I helped her. She was so scared. She didn’t want to push because she knew what your father was going to do the second the baby was delivered.”

Dread pulses through me and my chest sinks, fearing the worst. “My baby,” I breathe, feeling it deep in my gut. He’s gone. My father would have killed him in front of her eyes before killing her just to get his fucking rocks off.

“No,” Shayne rushes out, taking my hand in hers and holding it so close to her chest that I feel the rapid beat of her heart beneath. “She gave birth to a beautiful little boy, Roman,” she tells me, her eyes watering as she recalls the magical moment. “He was perfect, and fuck, he had a good set of lungs on him. Felicity,” she continues, pausing for a moment to find herself. “She held him in her arms, and seeing the way she looked at her son, it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

My heart constricts and the agony tearing through me is like never before. I’ve never been so fucking jealous. I would have loved to witness the birth of my son, to be here as he was brought into the world and see that unconditional love shining through Felicity’s eyes as she looked down at him for the first time. “Stop dancing around it,” I demand. “Give it to me straight. What the fuck happened?”

Shayne’s brows furrow and I see the fear in her eyes, wanting to save me from whatever she’s about to say, but she knows I need to hear it just as much as my brothers do. “A few minutes after your son was born, Felicity started to hemorrhage. There was just blood … everywhere. I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control it. It just kept coming and I panicked. I couldn’t help her. I swear, I was trying to save her, but there was just … nothing,” she says with a heavy sob, squeezing my hand as though that’s magically going to make the pain go away. “There was nothing I could do but watch her die while she held onto her son.”

My gaze lingers on Felicity’s body, and the longer I stare, the harder it gets. “Was she scared?” I question, at odds with my emotions, glad that she died from birthing complications rather than at my father’s hand. “When she died. Was she scared?”

Shayne shakes her head. “I don’t believe so,” she murmurs. “She was concerned about the baby. That’s all that mattered to her. She was terrified of what would happen to him growing up in this world, but I assured her that he would be safe with us. I … I can’t exactly speak for her, but I think she was almost relieved to go, that it was finally over for her.”

Shayne’s words kill me more than she will ever know, the thought of Felicity enduring this hell for so long at my father’s hands and not being here to save her. What would she have thought of me?

Levi moves in closer, standing directly behind Shayne, his hand dropping to her shoulder. “Where’s the baby, Shayne?” he questions, asking the one question I’m too fucking scared to hear the answer to. “What happened to him?”

Shayne looks back at me, fresh tears forming in her eyes. “I tried to stop him,” she says, choking on her sobs as they get stuck in her throat. “But your father … he … he …”

My eyes close as the overwhelming grief takes over me. She said earlier that he was fine, but I won’t believe it until I hear exactly what happened. “Spit it out,” I roar, the mix of frustration, guilt, fear, and devastation creating a vile mix.

“He was down here the whole time, watching her die and he just … he did nothing but watch,” she cries, tears streaming down her blood-stained face. “I tried to run with the baby, but he blocked me in. I had nowhere to go and his hand … he overpowered me. He took the baby and promised that he would use him as a weapon against you. I swear,” she adds, her violent sobs tearing at my already shattered heart. “I held onto him as long as I could. Your son … he’s gone. Your father took him, and I don’t know how to find him.”

With that, I take one last lingering look at Felicity’s body, taking in the face that I’ll never see full of life ever again. I get to my feet and walk the fuck out.

8

Shayne

Felicity’s body rests in the back of the SUV, the smell singeing my nose just as it has done for the past four days, forcing me to relive every fucked-up little moment from my time down in Giovanni’s basement. Roman couldn’t bear to leave her behind, and I don’t blame him. If I could have taken her with me when I first escaped, I would have. I would have done anything to try and make what happened down there okay.

Roman killed me today. Seeing the intense agony in his eyes was the hardest thing I’ve ever endured. I’ve never experienced someone else’s raw grief like that, and being the one who had to break the news, the one who could have saved her, and the one who’s personally responsible for letting their father take off with his newborn son … yeah, the weight I thought had lifted off my shoulder has crashed back over me with extra bricks added to the load.

He’ll never forgive me for letting her die like that, and he sure as fuck won’t forgive me for letting his son be taken. I was weak in those cells. I was desperate and I let him down. I let them all down.

Roman sits up front with Marcus while Levi sits in the back with me, his arm curled tightly around my body as my head rests against his big shoulder. Doe is on my other side, curled up in a ball as she rests quietly, her big head draped across my lap. The SUV is huge, but the backseat simply isn’t enough space for Levi and me plus a ginormous wolf. She would have been more comfortable in the back, but with Felicity taking up residence in there, we didn’t want to risk it.

My fingers thread into the fur on top of Doe’s head and she gently stirs beneath me only to make a show of getting comfortable, silently pleading for me to scratch her head. My fingers move in and out in a gentle massage behind her ears, and a low groan travels through her chest. Pain tears at me knowing the grief she must be feeling at not having her brother here with us. The two of them were like peas in a pod, always together, causing havoc over the castle and doing everything in their power to make my life a living hell. It’s as though they had some kind of competition between themselves to see who could get on my nerves the quickest, though Dill won that competition every single time. He had a gift for it, but there was no mistaking the kindness in his jet-black eyes.

I’ve been avoiding the question, not ready to hear all the gruesome details about Dill’s downfall, but I owe it to him to hear it. He protected me with his life out there in the woods. The least I can do is hear about his final moments and pay him the respect he’s owed. “Dill?” I question, my tone low and wavering. “What … how did he …”

A heavy sigh pulls from deep within me, and I let the rest of my question fade away, the words too hard to get out. Sensing Levi’s gaze, I lift my head off his shoulder and meet his haunted stare. “He’s okay,” he murmurs.

My brows furrow and I glance back down at Doe. “He’s okay?” I question, repeating his words back to him as I shake my head. “No. He was shot. I heard him howling. He couldn’t have lived through that.”

Marcus grunts from the front seat and glances back at me, his lips curved into an amused grin. “You really think Dill was going to let a single bullet take him down? That big bastard would have chewed that fucker up and spat it back out the other end. He’s a warrior, Shayne. Just like you.”

My heart flutters, its pace kicking up a gear as a fresh new hope surges through my veins. “He’s okay?” I question again. “I figured that because he wasn’t here …”

Levi’s hand falls to my thigh, gently squeezing and forcing my gaze back to his. “He’s alright,” he murmurs. “My father is a lousy shot. The bullet tore through his midsection and fucked with some of his internal organs, but we got him to the animal clinic just in time. He’s at home recovering, and trust me when I tell you, he’s pissed that he didn’t get to come. It would have been too much strain on his body.”

Relief overwhelms my system, and hot tears well in my eyes as the raging grief I’ve held down for the incredible wolf begins washing away. “I thought we’d lost him,” I whisper, my voice breaking as losing Dill, on top of everything else, was just the bullshit cherry on top of this shitstorm cake.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Levi says. “Dill isn’t completely out of the woods yet. He had a big surgery to repair the internal damage. He’s on all sorts of pain medication and probably won’t be able to take a proper dump for a while. He’s a grouchy asshole, but he’ll pull through. He always does.”

My fingers knot tighter into Doe’s fur, and I find myself leaning over her, curling my other arm around her strong body and holding her tight. “Did you hear that?” I whisper, my tone hitching up with hope while feeling like an idiot for talking to the wolf as though she can understand my every word. “Dill is going to be okay.”

Doe raises her head just enough to rub her face past mine, and a wave of warmth washes through me at her understanding and affection. She doesn’t linger or even meet my eye before dropping back into my lap and putting an abrupt end to our short conversation. But what can I say? Doe is a woman of few words, and I shouldn’t expect anything else.

Letting out a sigh, I straighten in my seat and let my head fall back, allowing my eyes to flutter closed. It’s been a hellish few days, and I should really use these next few hours to get some sleep, but the moment my eyelids close and block out the car around me, the haunting images of delivering Roman’s baby boy materialize in my mind.

My eyes spring open as the slightest gasp escapes me. I can’t help but glance up only to find Roman’s lethal stare meeting mine through the rearview mirror. I immediately look away, unable to handle the weight of his disapproval.

“What’s wrong?” Levi questions, glancing down at me through narrowed eyes.

Pain rests heavily in my chest as I stare out the side window, watching the endless expanse of desert. My shoulders droop and helplessness comes over me. “Can’t sleep,” I tell him. “Every time I close my eyes, I see it. It’s like a fucked-up movie playing on repeat in my head and I can’t make it stop.”

I see him nodding out of my peripheral as he reaches out and takes my hand in his. “Would it help to know that at some point, each of us have been held captive?” he questions. “You’re not alone in this, Shayne. Each of those terrible things you witnessed or had to do, we’ve done them too. We know how it feels, what you’re going through, and what it’s like fearing that you might never live to see another sunrise.”

My head whips toward him before quickly glancing into the front seats. Neither Marcus or Roman turn back, but I sense them listening. “You’ve been taken?”

Levi nods and I feel him holding onto my hand just a little bit tighter. “I was sixteen. I’d just slaughtered the nephew of one of the world’s richest men and he didn’t appreciate it much.”

“No shit,” I mutter, turning my gaze toward the front seat to find Marcus twisting in his seat to watch me without having to strain his neck. “What about you?”

“Twenty-two,” he tells me, his lips twisting into an amused smirk. “Fucked the wrong man’s wife.”

A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth and something lightens in my chest, as though whatever is keeping me bound so tight is starting to fray and ease. “Why am I not surprised?”

Marcus’ dark, obsidian eyes glisten with laughter. “It wasn’t the best experience of my life, and if she wasn’t so good in bed, I would have been really fucking pissed.”

“I bet you never saw her again.”

Marcus laughs as the dusty desert track slowly turns into an old, broken-down road that looks as though it hasn’t been tended to in years. “On the contrary,” he tells me. “Just out of spite of that old fucker, I screwed her brains out for another three months. I would have kept going, but the asshole found the wrong end of some loser’s gun. It wasn’t much fun after that.”

I shake my head before cutting my gaze across to Roman, though the hard set of his jaw and his whitening knuckles on the steering wheel suggests that asking about his time held captive isn’t something he’s willing to talk about.

“Look,” Marcus says, the contrast in his tone from just a moment ago sending a wave of unease through me. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about this and that it’s going to stir up some old wounds, but we need to revisit your tracking device. You have a target on your back, and now that you’ve escaped our father’s clutches, he’s going to be pissed. I won’t risk you being taken again and us not knowing how to get to you. Four days is unacceptable.”

“I know,” I murmur. “You can put it back in.”

“Wait,” he says, his brows furrowing as he pauses, almost as though he’s repeating my words over in his head. “You agree with me? After what happened with Roman and Levi and you tearing it out, I was ready for a whole fucking argument.”

“How could I not agree with you? If I had that stupid thing in my arm, you guys would have caught up to us the moment we got here...” I imagine what would have been different had they tracked me to the cabin right away. The boys could have found us here, gotten help for Felicity before it was too late, saved Ariana from being abused and sold. Roman would still have his girl and his baby in his arms right now if it weren't for my reckless mistakes. When I see Roman's eyes in the rearview again, it's clear that he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He's probably thought the same things since finding Felicity dead. It's all my fault. Breaking away, I glance down at my hands. “What I went through there … I can’t risk that happening again. I won’t.”

Marcus’ eyes gleam with relief, and it makes me realize just how worried he’s been about the topic, though I don’t know why. Had I disagreed, I’m sure they would have found another way to get a tracker on me. “What about contraceptives?” Levi questions. “Will you allow us to insert a fresh one? I know you felt railroaded with the last one, and I don’t want you to feel as though we’re taking away your choice. It’s your body, I want you to do what you’re comfortable with, but I also think it’s a smart decision to ensure you’re protected against any unplanned pregnancies, at least … until you’re ready.”

Biting down on my lip, my gaze falls to the angry red scar on my arm as I let out a heavy sigh. An unplanned pregnancy really would fuck with my vibe right now. There’s too much going on in my life to have to worry about that. The responsible thing to do would be to protect myself. “Okay,” I finally say, glancing back up at him. “But I won’t have any of you digging into my skin. I want a doctor. A real doctor,” I quickly add. “Not some asshole who’s on your father’s payroll and who will get killed at the end of the appointment.”

Levi meets Roman’s heavy stare through the rearview mirror, and after a painful silence, he finally nods. “Fine,” Roman says. “But one of us will be present during your appointment.”

I arch a brow, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Are you kidding me?” I scoff. “After all this time, you don’t trust me to sit through one measly doctor appointment and keep my mouth shut?”

His dark stare keeps me hostage, and the longer he holds it, the faster my heart beats. “It’s not you I don’t trust,” he finally spits.

Ahhhh, the doctor. I guess that makes sense.

Unable to handle his intensity, I let out a breath and drop my gaze back to the wolf in my lap when Levi’s thumb rubs over the back of my knuckles. “This appointment,” he starts. “Did you want me to book you for a thorough examination?”

“Examination?”

His jaw clenches and anger pulses through his heavy stare. “I saw that cell, Shayne. The blood on the ground, the torn underwear. I know what happened to you and I don’t want you feeling ashamed or scared. I don’t expect you to talk about it or even acknowledge what happened in there, but I think it’s a good idea to get yourself checked over.”

His words swirl around my mind as my chest grows heavier. I should have cut him off the second I realized what he was talking about, but the moment the words ‘torn underwear’ came out of his mouth, guilt came slamming down over my shoulders, and along with it, a shitload of indecision.

What happened to Ariana in the cell with the boys’ uncle is her business, and I sure as fuck feel as though she’d hate me for telling everyone, but how could I not? Knowing where she is right now, she’s probably been abused a million times over the past couple of days.

“That cell,” I say, the betrayal of what I’m about to do heavily weighing on me. “It wasn’t mine. It was Ariana’s.”

Roman flinches in the front seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror as Marcus’ head whips around to look at me again. Levi’s hand clenches in mine. “What did you just say?”

“It was Ariana’s,” I repeat. “She was already there when I was locked up. It looked like she’d been there at least a few days. We didn’t really talk about it, but my guess is that she was captured after our little showdown at your father’s property.”

“The guards raped her?” Roman questions, his tone low and filled with venom, and while the four of us hate her for what she did to me, there’s no denying the years of history between Ariana and Roman. Despite cutting her off and throwing her to the wolves, news like this is still hard to hear.

Shaking my head, I swallow over the lump in my throat, trying to find the strength to say the words out loud. After what Ariana went through in that cell, the least she deserves is for me to be able to get the words out without falling apart. “Your uncle. Phillip. Your father sold her to him. He came down, abused her for two hours, and then dragged her away.”

“Fuck,” Marcus spits, turning back in his seat to look out his window as the wild, overwhelming emotions force their way through his body.

Roman’s chest rises and falls with rapid movements, and I can’t help but notice the sharp cut of his jaw as he clenches his teeth, fury rippling through his dark eyes. Not wanting to direct anything to Roman, I turn my attention to the younger DeAngelis sitting right by my side. “I know you guys don’t owe her anything after what she did, and trust me, I know how ridiculous it is of me to even consider this after everything she put me through, but she had my back down in those cells. When Phillip came in, she told me to play dead. He wanted to take me first and then take her home for seconds, but she drew his attention back on her. She saved me from suffering the same way she did, and the whole time she kept her mouth shut, protecting me while he defiled her. The things …” I shake my head, the haunting images flying through my head too much to handle. “I just laid there and played dead then watched in silence while he dragged her away. And I’m sorry, I know you’re not forgiving men, and going back on your word to disown her isn’t your style, but after what she did for me … in the very least your uncle deserves to lose his life.”

Marcus rubs his hand over his face as he glances toward Roman. “If Phillip knew where to find that cabin and had made a deal with our father, there’s a good chance that he knows something that we don’t.”

Roman shakes his head, reading into whatever Marcus is trying to get at. “He won’t lead us to him. Phillip is too careful. He covers his tracks.”

“Either way, Shayne is right. We can’t leave Ariana there to be abused day in and day out.”

“Are you forgetting that she almost had Shayne slaughtered in a fucking bathtub?” Roman questions, his tone louder and full of a conflicted fury.

“Fuck no, I haven’t,” Marcus fires back. “Ariana needs to be punished for what she did, and she will be, but not like this and not by Phillip’s hand. The ball is in Shayne’s court, and she can decide how she wants to execute this one. So don’t go fooling yourself by acting as though you’re okay with this. We know where you draw your lines, brother. This will eat at you for the rest of your life.”

Roman lets out a heavy sigh and quickly meets my hard stare before turning his attention back to the deserted road. “Then I guess it’s time we pay our uncle a visit.”

9

Hot clouds of steam fill the bathroom as I pull my stained tank over my head. My reflection is foggy in the mirror, but not even that will mask the nasty scars and dirt marring my skin. I don’t bother looking for long. I know what I will find, and it’s not something I need to dwell on right now.

After peeling my blood-stained pants from my legs, I scoop up my discarded tank and toss every bit of clothing I wore in the cell into the trash. Fuck, if I had the energy right now, those clothes would be burning in the bathtub, but the trash can will have to do for now.

Striding across the bathroom, I step directly into the hot flow of water. It singes my body and I suck in a loud breath through my teeth, quickly jumping away and slamming my back against the cold tiles. I slowly inch forward, taking my time as I stick my foot into the hot stream and watch as it slowly washes away the dried blood and grime coating my skin.

Getting used to the heat, I watch as the water turns my skin a soft shade of pink, and only after spending twenty minutes staring at the plain white tiles of the shower wall do I grab the body wash and scrub every crevice and inch of my skin. I wash myself over and over again, knowing that no amount of body wash will make me feel clean.

My head tips back under the water and I rinse it with shampoo, feeling my long locks of hair falling right down to my ass, the water making it appear so much longer. After spending ten minutes sailing a razor over all the important parts and making me feel somewhat like myself, my back falls against the cool shower tiles again.

I slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor and my knees come up against my chest. Curling my arms around my legs, I drop my head against my knees and close my eyes as the water crashes down over me like a waterfall.

It was a five-hour drive back to the DeAngelis mansion, and though this home comes fully equipped with everything a girl could ever need, it doesn’t feel like home to me. A part of me had hoped to hide within the walls of the boys’ gothic castle, and though that place holds horrendous memories of its own, it also offers me the illusion of safety.

A part of me is convinced that I’ll be safe here, that Giovanni won’t be stupid enough to come here again, but I’m starting to learn that my basic instincts can’t be trusted. I’ve turned down a million wrong paths since being dragged into this unforgiving world, and I’m barely finding my feet. I’ve never experienced unpredictability on this scale before. Shit, a girl can’t even chase a dildo wielding wolf through the woods without getting kidnapped. Though to be fair, in the movies, girls are always getting kidnapped in the woods when they foolishly decide to go out alone. I guess the joke is on me.

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice asks.

My head snaps up and I’m immediately hit with the hot spray directly in my face. I pull back enough to avoid it and find Levi hovering in the doorway, his shoulder pressed against the frame and his thick, muscled arms crossed over his chest. “Trying to convince myself that I don’t really need to sleep.”

“I can get you something for that,” he offers. “You’ll be out in two seconds.”

I shake my head, the idea bouncing around in my mind like a sick tease, offering me the world but coming with far too many consequences. “No,” I finally say. “I don’t want to risk not being able to wake myself if the dreams come.”

“Fair enough,” he murmurs. “What do you need?”

Looking up through my lashes, I shrug my shoulders. “I just need to breathe. I need to go twenty minutes without remembering one of the sick, vile things I had to do. I just … I need a break from it all. I need to forget.”

Levi pushes off the door frame as his hand flies back over his head and grips the top of his shirt. He shrugs out of it, putting those gorgeous tattoos on display as he strides toward the shower. He tosses his shirt carelessly onto the basin and steps right into the spray of water, his black jeans riding low on his defined hips.

“Consider it done,” he murmurs just as he reaches down and grabs me under my arms. He tears me up off the shower floor, and the momentum of his movements has my body slamming up against his. My arms fly around his neck as my back presses against the cool shower wall.

A gasp tears from my throat as my legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the fly of his jeans pressing up against my clit and sending a wave of hot electricity pulsing right through my core. His hips rock and I feel him hardening through his soaked jeans, always so ready to give me what I need.

My eyes close as a low moan travels up my throat and I do nothing but allow myself to feel. He moves slowly, grinding against my pussy as his warm lips press down against my neck, his tongue brushing over my sensitive, bruised skin.

Every haunting thought fades from my head, just as he knew it would, and all that’s left is my need to be with him, to feel him inside me, stretching me and making me feel alive. I tilt my head, allowing him more access as he holds onto me with one hand, his other brushing down my side before trailing back up and cupping my tit. His finger circles my nipple and it hardens beneath his teasing touch like an invitation that he doesn’t dare skip out on.

He pinches my nipple just as his fly rubs past my clit and my body jolts, a gasp sailing from between my lips as the electricity intensifies. “Fuck, Levi,” I breathe, damn sure that if our bodies weren’t glued together, I’d already have his velvety cock in my hands, working him like I know he needs.

His lips grow more intense on my neck, and I grab his face, desperate to taste his kiss. He gives me exactly what I need, not relenting for a damn second as his tongue dives into my mouth, his bruising kiss setting my body alight.

His hand roams over my body, leaving a trail of desperation in its wake, and as it continues down, I groan into his mouth, the anticipation almost too much. He pulls back just an inch, allowing enough space for his hand to slip between our bodies, and without skipping a beat, the pad of his thumb strokes over my clit. “Oh, fuck,” I gasp against his lips, my legs tightening around him. “Again.”

Not one to disappoint, his thumb hits my clit, and instead of stroking right over it, he rubs lazy circles and my whole body sags in instant satisfaction, my eyes closing as I do nothing but feel.

As he worships my clit with the sweetest devotion, his fingers fall further. They find my entrance and push up into me, curving just right to hit that delicious spot deep inside. “Holy shit, Levi. Yes,” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulder.

He pulls back from my lips and I immediately miss their touch, but as he takes my thigh and unwinds it from his waist, he drops to his knees, and I realize that his lips could be much better suited somewhere else.

His big hands slide up my legs and grip onto my thighs just under my ass before effortlessly lifting me. I grip onto his shoulders as he spreads my thighs and seats me on his shoulders, my pussy directly in line with his mouth, and damn it, he wastes no time.

His skilled tongue flicks over my clit and I cry out, my loud, gasping groan filled with the best kind of satisfaction. Just when I think it can’t get any better, his lips close over my cunt, and he works me in that delicious way that only Levi DeAngelis can.

Sucking. Nipping. Teasing. Taunting.

“Oh, fuck!”

With his dark, heated eyes on me, he reaches down and I become mesmerized, watching as he undoes his jeans and pulls his thick cock from its confines. Its angry veins call to me like a damn siren, daring me to lose my mind and do all sorts of wicked things. I’m way too far to even consider reaching for it, but as his hand curls around his long shaft, I realize that sometimes watching the show can be so much better.

Levi’s eyes bore into mine as he works his cock up and down, making me bite down on my lip in hunger. My back presses harder against the wall, and he reaches up with his other hand, gripping my tit and giving it a firm squeeze as he works my pussy.

His tongue flicks over my clit and I cry out knowing that I won’t be leaving this shower until he’s fucked me within an inch of my life.

My body burns for it, the desperation pulsing through me like never before. “Oh God, Levi. Yes, don’t fucking stop. Right there,” I cry, my pants becoming wild and frantic as he fucks me with his tongue, his slow torturous pace on his cock making everything clench deep within me, imagining that same, intense pace pushing deep inside my cunt.

My head tilts back against the tiles and I close my eyes, intent to feel every intense second, and damn it, it’s more than anything I could have asked for. Everything tightens deep in my core, and I suck in a breath knowing it won’t be long, but as his tongue and lips continue working me with that incredible, raw skill, my orgasm creeps up faster than I could have imagined.

It builds and builds and I’m forced to tangle my fingers into his hair just to hold on. My fingers pull into a fist, and I grip onto him tightly as my orgasm reaches its climax and I explode on his tongue. “Oh, FUCK,” I cry, my voice echoing through the big bathroom, the sound of the shower barely drowning it out.

My pussy convulses, my whole body shaking and clenching as he sets every nerve alight, the mind-blowing sensation rocking through my body and making me feel like a damn goddess, even more so as I feel his hungry smile against my throbbing cunt.

I’ve barely come down from my high before Levi is pulling me off his shoulders and curling his arm around my waist. He stands and I feel his rock-hard cock pressing against my stomach making my mouth water. I can’t help but curl my hand around his impressive size, and as I do, his fingers knot into the back of my hair and tear my head back.

His hungry stare bores into mine. “I’m going to fuck your tight little cunt,” he warns me. “You’re going to scream for me, baby. Is that understood?”

Holy fuck.

Yes, sir.

His lips crush down over mine and I taste my arousal on his tongue as his arm tightens around my waist. Levi lifts me and my legs curl around him, holding on tight before he steps out of the shower. Not having enough hands to shut off the water, we leave it running and I make a mental note to come back later and turn it off, though I can’t guarantee that I’ll be in any state to walk after he’s through with me.

With water rushing off us, he walks straight out into my bedroom and adjusts his hold on my waist, gripping me tightly. He throws me down on my bed, but with one hand on my thigh, I’m left spread wide with my tits gently bouncing from my crash landing.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, almost sounding as though he’s in pain simply from not already being buried deep inside me. His heavy, heated gaze sweeps over my body and lingers on my pussy, adoration and desire pulsing wickedly in his eyes. Marcus has always been the one to fuck me in any which way, but when Levi does it, he needs to be at a vantage point, always with the best view to watch as his cock slams deep inside me, only to re-emerge coated with my arousal. What can I say? He’s a visual kind of guy, and I’m not gonna lie, I love it when he watches. It’s one thing to taste me as he gets me off but getting to see it is the cherry on top of the fuck fest cake.

Without warning, he takes my hips and flips me over, pushing my knees up under me and forcing my chest down into my comforter so that my ass is flying high and proud. His low, hungry growl tears through the room and I can’t help but spread my knees further apart, wanting him to see everything I have on offer. “Fucking hell,” he mutters darkly, his tone warning me that I’m going to be feeling him deep inside me for days to come.

A shiver travels down my spine as he steps in close behind me and trails his fingers over the high curve of my ass. A breathy moan escapes me as I impatiently look back over my shoulder, watching him intently. I gently sway my hips from side to side, tempting and inviting him to hurry the fuck up, but a man like Levi DeAngelis can’t be coaxed. He’ll fuck me on his time, in his way, and I’ll be left with no damn choice but to love it.

His fingers trail over my cunt and a jolt of electricity fires through me. “So fucking wet,” he murmurs with pride as his fingers mix with my arousal. His other hand cups my ass cheek and his fingers slowly push inside me and curve around, massaging my walls as he goes. My pussy clenches with anticipation and his low laugh fills the room. “So impatient.”

I push back against him, forcing his fingers deeper inside my cunt and this new angle has a groan rumbling through my chest. “You like that, baby?” he mutters, the wicked tone in his voice filled with a deep hunger as I feel the tip of his cock gently pressing against my clit.

“Hooooly fuck, yes,” I tell him, the anticipation building like never before.

His hand on my ass cheek pushes down to meet his other, and I gasp as he pushes his thumb inside me, stretching my pussy that little bit further. Before I can get used to the feel of so many fingers, he draws his coated thumb back and trails it higher before applying the type of pressure that has my eyes rolling in the back of my head. He pushes deeper and I press back into him again, needing so much more.

I keep my eyes locked on him, watching the way he takes me in, moving his fingers deep inside me as his thumb teases my ass. His desire only pulses that much stronger, and as the anticipation gets too much for him, he draws his fingers out of me and I prepare myself for him to do his worst.

Levi glances up and meets my hooded stare, and I watch as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth and sucks them dry. He puts on a show licking his fingers, and just as he lines his thick cock up with my entrance, the word “Mine,” tears from his lips.

His fingers grip onto my hips, and not a second later, he buries his cock deep inside me, stretching me wide. I cry out, the raw groan like music to my ears. “Fuck, yes. Again.”

Levi pauses, his balls pressed right up against my clit as an intense growl rumbles in his chest. His eyes roll to the back of his head, and I push my ass back, taking all I can get. He slowly draws back, the anticipation building so much more, then without warning, slams back into me again, his tip hitting me in all the right places.

Levi picks up his pace and fucks me like a true fucking gentleman should—raw, hard, and fast. And just as he wanted, a crazed scream tears from my lips, his name quickly followed with breathy, gasped pants. My pussy clenches around him, squeezing him tight, and his fingers digging into my hips tells me just how much he likes it.

He pushes deeper and presses against my back, forcing my ass higher, and God damnnnnn. Any fucking day. Yes, Daddy.

He slams into me over and over and as that familiar tightening grows deep inside, I slip my hand beneath me and press my fingers to my clit. Rubbing tight little circles, my pussy clenches as my ass tightens around his thumb, the anticipation quickly taking over. “Holy fucking hell,” I mutter into the comforter, my words muffled by the expensive goose down blanket.

Levi fucks me harder, his pace picking up as my fingers work tirelessly against my clit. He spanks me hard, the sound rocking through my bedroom as everything clenches within me, tearing a loud groan from both of us. My ass stings in the most delicious way, and before I even get a chance to warn him, my orgasm tears through me like lightning.

My pussy convulses and I turn into a quivering wreck. Sucking in a sharp breath, I clench my eyes as my fingers fist into the comforter. “Oh, fuuuuck,” I groan just as Levi comes with me, his hot seed shooting into me as his thumb pauses on my ass, slowly pushing deeper.

My orgasm pulses through me, and as Levi keeps moving, allowing me to ride out my high, it only grows more intense. I cry out, the overpowering adrenaline proving too much for me to handle. My body finally releases me from its hold, allowing me a chance to catch my breath. As I come down from my high, Levi gently pulls out of me, and I collapse, curling into an exhausted ball and looking up at this incredible beast of a man.

He looks down at me, adoration in his warm eyes as I feel his seed slowly leaking out of me and smooshing between my legs, but hell, I’m not about to get up and leave, not when Levi’s looking at me like this.

He bends down and scoops me into his capable, inked arms, holding me tight to his chest as he walks around the edge of the bed. He drops down, sitting up against the headboard of the bed and holds me on his lap, not giving a flying fuck that I’m making all sorts of a mess on his lap.

My head rests against his chest and I listen to the rhythmic beat of his heart as his hand curls up around me, holding me still. “Sleep now,” he tells me, more than coming through on his challenge to make me forget. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll hold you all night long if you need me to.”

And without another word, the safety of his strong arms comes over me and I fall into a long, dreamless sleep, the monsters and demons of my mind finally put to rest.

10

The late afternoon sun shines through my bedroom window, and I squint into the bright light, finding Levi’s arms still tightly wrapped around me despite being asleep for a lifetime. It must be somewhere around five in the afternoon, meaning I’ve been out for at least twenty hours.

“I thought you were never going to wake,” Levi murmurs into the silence, placing his phone down on the bed and pulling me into his chest. “How are you feeling?”

I shrug my shoulders, not really sure how to answer that. “Fine, I guess,” I say, giving him a generic answer that gives away absolutely nothing, but to be honest, I have no idea how I feel. Sure, my life is still just as fucked up as it’s always been. There’s no denying that, but today is a new day and a chance to put it all behind me. Today is my first shot at moving on, and I want to make it count.

Pulling out of Levi’s arms, I scoot to the edge of the bed and get up on shaky legs before rushing into the bathroom and dropping my ass onto the toilet. Twenty hours is far too long for me to go without peeing, and with Levi’s manhood still spread far and wide between my legs, I’m overdue for a cleanup.

After getting myself cleaned up, I step back out into the massive bedroom that has somehow become my own. I walk across the plush carpet and step into the walk-in closet, finding brand new black lingerie dangling from a satin hanger. After ripping off the expensive tags, I watch myself through the floor-to-ceiling mirror as I slip the black lace over my body. It fits me perfectly, and damn, I’m not going to lie, it’s one of the sexiest pieces of lingerie I’ve ever worn.

Scanning over the racks of clothes that once belonged to Ariana, I find a black, silk robe and pull it off its hanger before squishing it between my hands. It’s the softest silk gown I’ve ever touched. I can only imagine how much this thing cost, but either way, I will be living in it from this point on, unless one of those demanding DeAngelis brothers tell me otherwise.

Slipping my arms through the wide armholes, I trudge back out into the main bedroom. “Where are you going?” Levi asks as I make my way toward the door. “I wasn’t nearly ready to let you go yet. It’s been four fucking days, babe. There’s a lot of missed time to make up for.”

Everything clenches deep within me, and I feel the dull, sensual ache between my legs, reminding me exactly where he’s been. I bite down on my lip, his offer to spend the day fucking me more than enticing, but if I don’t eat something in the next three seconds, I think I might die.

Glancing over my shoulder, I give him a sultry smile, watching the way his eyes become hooded and flame with desire. I pause by the door and allow my heated gaze to travel up and down his strong body, his tattoos, dark eyes, and sculpted perfection making my mouth water. “I’m going to need a bit of energy if I have any hope of keeping up with you for the rest of the day,” I tell him. “Do you need anything while I’m downstairs?”

Levi’s eyes glisten with silent laughter as he shakes his head. “Nah, babe. Just make it quick. We can’t risk you running into Marcus. That fucker will sink his claws in and whisk you away with some bullshit promise about blowing your mind with some kind of fucked-up kink.”

Heat throbs below the surface and I clench my thighs again, imagining all the wicked things Marcus could do to me, though when it comes to Marcus, there is no guessing. I doubt even he knows how he’s going to fuck me before it happens. He’s a spur of the moment kind of guy and I love that about him. “In that case, maybe I should run into him,” I tease, though truth be told, I’m more than considering leaving Levi up here high and dry while I ride his brother like a fucking cowgirl downstairs.

Levi’s hand slips down under the blanket and I see the way he grabs his cock, giving it a hard squeeze to try and gain what little control he can. “If I have to come down there and find you, there will be trouble. Is that understood?”

A sparkle hits my eyes, and I hold back a grin as I lower my chin and look up at him through my thick row of lashes. Innocence washes over my features as I watch him through big, wide eyes, knowing just how much my little act affects him. After all, a man like Levi loves nothing more than taking a woman’s purity and claiming it as his own. I’d bet Levi was the dude in high school going around collecting girls’ virginities like he collects murder trophies. The silk robe slips off my shoulder, exposing my creamy skin below. His eyes quickly glaze over it, and as his tongue rolls over his bottom lip, he squeezes his cock just a little harder. I let those two teasing words fall from between my lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

Levi’s eyes widen and I bolt from the room as a throaty laugh tears from my chest. Fuck, he’s going to make me come through on that. I always suspected that he had a bit of a daddy kink but seeing the way his eyes lit up like fireworks only proves my theory.

I race down the hallway, my silk gown flowing out behind me when I hear his deep tone booming through the hallway. “You don’t know what kind of beast you’ve just unleashed, Shayne Mariano,” he roars. I reach the top of the stairs and clutch the railing as I glance back, finding him hovering in the middle of the walkway down by my room. His eyes sparkle in amusement but there’s something so much deeper there, something so raw that it makes my pussy clench with undeniable need. “There ain’t nowhere you can run from me.”

My bottom lip catches between my teeth and I wink back at him just moments before a wide, cheesy grin cuts across my face. “Watch me.”

I fly down the stairs, feeling as though I just got away with murder, though I’m not fooled. I’m not as clever as I pretend to be. If Levi wanted to catch me and put this new daddy kink into practice, he would have, but he’d prefer to see me fed and healthy over everything else, even if it means getting around with a wicked case of blue balls for a few hours.

My feet hit the bottom step just as Marcus walks through to the dining room and pauses in the entryway, waiting for me to catch up. “Hey,” he says, his eyes quickly skimming over my body and blazing with need as he takes in the black lingerie barely covered by the silk gown. His arm falls over my shoulder and he pulls me in close to his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead as his hand sails low and rests over my ass. “You good?”

“Just hungry,” I say, looking around the massive dining room and finding Dill and Doe resting in the corner of the room, both of them laying in doggy beds. While Doe looks her perfect normal self, Dill looks far from it. His tongue hangs out of his mouth as he lays on his back, his bandages on display for the world to see. His eyes are closed, and his violent snoring tells me just how out he really is. Dill never lets his guard down, even while sleeping. He’s the perfect example of sleeping with one eye open, but right now, an elephant could come in here and shit all over the room and he’d just keep snoring with his tongue draped halfway across his face.

I hate seeing him like this, but I’m glad his pain medication seems to be doing the trick.

Walking deeper into the room, I find myself absolutely hating it. I’d gotten used to the boys’ castle but being in Giovanni’s home still feels wrong. Though, I can hardly expect the boys to rule over an empire from the confines of their prison castle a million miles away. This is where they need to be, where we need to be.

Marcus’ hand sweeps over the silk gown, trailing over the subtle curves of my body. “Me too, babe,” he says, his voice dropping low with his double meaning.

I gently push against his chest, a grin pulling at my lips. “Stop,” I laugh, knowing all too well that while I have a million monsters inside my head and I’m still trying to put the past few days behind me, there’s no denying that the boys are making me feel alive for the first time in days. They have a way of making me forget, making me live for the moment and plastering unexpected smiles across my face. Roman definitely doesn’t count in that … most of the time. The chip on his shoulder keeps him from living life to its fullest, but I don’t blame him. The shit he’s had to endure is like nothing I could ever imagine, and something tells me that I’m only aware of the smallest portion of it.

“Not possible,” he says, watching as I stride across the room, dropping down into the seat at the head of the table, the seat that used to belong to Giovanni. I pick at a bowl of grapes and lean back in my chair, kicking my feet up on the very edge of the table and allowing the silk to slip open, revealing more of my thigh than I would have ever been comfortable with before meeting the boys.

Marcus’ gaze lingers on my thigh but seeing the savage way I inhale the grapes, he pulls back on his wicked thoughts and starts loading up a plate of food. “How are you feeling?” he questions, placing the plate down in front of me. “You were asleep for a while.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I tell him. “I haven’t really had a chance to think about it, and honestly, I don’t want to. I’m just … I’m angry, and every time the slightest memory flashes inside my head, I’m left with this overwhelming need to viciously slaughter your father like a fucking wild animal.”

He presses a hand down on my shoulder and I wait for him to tell me to breathe, to be patient and let the boys handle it, but that’s not even close to what comes pouring out of his mouth. “Good,” he tells me, his obsidian eyes darkening with venom. “Hold onto that feeling. Let it burn deep inside you like a fucking inferno and build up like cancer growing inside of you. You will get what’s owed to you. I promise you, babe. You will get your chance with him, and when you do, I want you to bring up those flames and extinguish them against him. It’s going to be a fucking bloody masterpiece. Brutal and vicious, and you’re going to look like a fucking avenging angel doing it. Vengeance will be yours.”

I swallow hard, his determination and excitement at the very thought of me getting my hands on their father making something burn deep within me, and not the kind of burning that Giovanni’s wicked games invoke in me, a very different kind of burn that has me ready to throw Marcus down on the table and fuck him until I scream. “What about you guys?” I ask, keeping my filthy mind on track. “You’ve all been tortured at your father’s hands for years, and I know you would give me anything I wanted, but you guys deserve to be the ones to tear his flesh from his body.”

“Don’t be fooled, my sweet girl. Just because we will allow you to end him in the most priceless way imaginable, doesn’t mean that he will be given to you in one piece. We will get our own. We have years of bullshit to make up for. You’ll be lucky if you get to play with him long before he finally gives out.”

That familiar burn intensifies, and as I remember Levi ready and waiting for me upstairs, that need pulses erratically through me. I wonder if they’d be down for a three-way.

My eyes blaze with excitement as I take a cherry off my plate and pop it into my mouth. My fingers trail up the side of Marcus’ leg as I close my mouth over the cherry and tear the stem from between my lips. Marcus watches me with desire, and I slowly spread my legs, letting my other hand fall to my thigh.

Marcus pulls my chair back from the table and positions me so that I face him directly. He stands over me and grips my chin, forcing my heated stare to his dark eyes, and while he doesn’t say a damn word, the desire is clear in his eyes, along with a million other silent thoughts passing between us, most of them thoughts that I’m not ready to hear just yet.

Marcus begins to lean down, and I tilt my chin up higher, ready to capture his lips in mine when I hear the front door slam before the sound of heavy boots thumping through the foyer.

My back stiffens and it’s like having a bucket of ice water tipped over my head. “Don’t move,” Marcus murmurs, straightening and gliding across the dining room to discreetly peer out into the foyer. Nerves crash through my body. The only time we ever had to deal with intruders at the prison castle was when Giovanni showed up, or bitches stormed my room with a gun. I’m sure had the home not been locked up like Fort Knox, there would have been more enemies barging through the doors, but here in Giovanni’s mansion, his doors are open, and anyone could walk through at any moment. The thought makes it difficult to sleep at night, especially with Giovanni on the rampage, determined to get his home and empire back under his hold.

Marcus pauses a moment, his hand falling to the small of his back where he pulls a gun from the waistband of his pants. My breath catches in my throat, and while I know Marcus could take down an intruder in a matter of seconds, I still hate the thought of him putting himself in danger, especially when his brothers aren’t at his back. Though I don’t doubt the sound of the front door slamming has Levi slowly creeping toward the top of the stairs.

Marcus slips through the opening, and just as I expect to hear a gunshot ring loudly through the foyer, Marcus lets out an irritated sigh. “Fuck’s sake,” he mutters before calling back through to the dining room. “It’s just Roman.”

I let out a relieved breath as Roman’s loud stomping continues through the mansion and toward the dining room. “Where the fuck have you been?” I hear Marcus’ low murmurs as he berates his brother for disappearing on us. “Shayne is in there shitting herself because she thinks someone was trying to break in.”

Roman doesn’t respond as he flies through the entrance of the dining room and storms right over to the open bar. He pours himself a glass of whiskey and throws it back before immediately pouring another. Marcus stops in the doorway and watches him with a frown as a heaviness comes down over my shoulders.

Roman’s eyes are hard, and the sharp set of his jaw has me pushing up out of my chair. I cross the room and sense him watching me from the corner of his eye. He pours another drink before pulling the cap off a bottle of vodka and pouring one for me. He silently slides it across the bar, putting it right in front of me as I step in beside him.

“What’s going on?” I question as Marcus remains by the door, silently listening.

Roman indicates the shot of vodka as he throws back another glass of whiskey. Realizing that I won’t get any answers until I give him what he wants, I pick up the small glass and revel in the burn as the vodka makes its way down my throat.

Slamming the glass back down on the bar, I release it before reaching up and taking his chin. I force his stare to mine, knowing that I’m probably the last person he wants to see after I allowed his father to walk out with his newborn baby. “What is it?”

Roman’s lips press into a hard line as he reaches up and grips my hand, releasing it from his chin. He doesn’t let go and holds onto my hand as though it’s his only lifeline. His dark gaze meets mine and there’s something so devastating about it. It’s filled with pain and grief, and it’s almost impossible to hold his stare for a second longer.

Roman lets out a breath, and as his shoulders sink, the words come falling from his lips. “I buried Felicity.”

Pain shoots through my chest and I’m completely lost for words, so instead of struggling to say the right thing, I step into him and wrap my arms around his strong body, holding him tight. Roman sinks into me and curls his arms around me as I distantly notice Marcus slipping out of the dining room to give Roman some privacy, despite the pain he must be feeling in his own heart. Marcus was close with Felicity, but his emotions have been a mess after she stormed into my bedroom and shot him. We’ve all been a mess since then.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, absolutely shattered by the idea of Roman standing out in some field or on a beach all alone, digging a hole for the mother of his child, the woman who holds such a high place in his heart. “We could have helped you. You didn’t need to do that alone.”

“I did,” he tells me, his hand winding up into the back of my hair as his arm tightens around my waist and lifts me up off the ground. He pushes me back onto the bar and steps between my legs as I keep holding onto him. He braces himself against the bar and hangs his head so that his forehead presses against my shoulder. “I let her down. I let my father fool me, and because of that, she suffered in a fucking cell while growing my baby in her womb. She needed me more than ever and I let her down.”

My fingers knot into his hair as Felicity’s innocent face settles into my head and I find myself holding onto him tighter. Felicity wasn’t built for this world. I only knew her for those few short minutes before her death, but even that was enough to show me who she was. She would have been the quiet girl at school, blushing when the popular guy paid her a little attention. This world would have eaten her up and spit her out the other end.

“We all let her down, Roman,” I tell him, holding back the tears that well in my eyes, hating seeing Roman so crushed. I’ve never seen him hurting like this, and something tells me that opening up and showing his vulnerabilities isn’t something he does often. Hell, for so long, I thought these guys weren’t capable of feeling these normal human emotions, but every day they prove to me that they’re more human than anyone I’ve ever met. “She wasn’t scared of death,” I continue, noticing the dirt under his nails from his long morning of digging her grave. “She was just glad that it was over and she didn’t have to live with this fear anymore. She loved you, and she was so lucky to have had that reciprocated.”

Roman scoffs and raises his head, his dead eyes lingering on mine. “To love me and my brothers means to live in fear and being loved in return means certain death. Is that something that you want? Because that’s how it’s going to end. You’re going to be just like her.”

I shake my head, knowing it’s his fear and grief talking, though on some level, I think it might be true. “That won’t happen to me,” I tell him, my confidence in the brothers knowing no bounds. “You and your brothers won’t allow it. You’re going to take down your father and finally put an end to this. We’re going to find your son and you’ll get to live a million more years, ruling over this world and raising your son to be a proud, honest man, just like you and your brothers. Felicity may be gone, just like so many other innocent lives that have been lost in this war, but you have an opportunity to rise up. This is your game now, and your father is nothing but a pawn that you get to play. Enjoy it, Roman. Take revenge and make him pay for it all.”

A flicker of fire burns deep in his eyes and he reaches around me, grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the bar before taking a step back, not once taking his eyes off mine. He holds my stare for a long moment as he brings the bottle of whiskey to his lips, and after throwing it back, the fire burns a little bit brighter. Roman moves into me again and curls his hand around the back of my neck before pulling me in. I smell him all around me, his addictive scent like a shot right to the heart as he holds me tight, then just when I think it’s all over, he presses a firm, lingering kiss to my temple.

My eyes flutter closed, soaking in his touch, and then all too soon, he pulls away from me and strides out of the dining room without another damn word.

11

The doctor packs up her tools as I glance down at my scarred arm, looking over my latest bandage, though at least this one is self-inflicted. “Thank you,” I say again as she pushes back from her chair, studiously ignoring Marcus’ hard stare from across the room.

“Of course,” she says, side eyeing him with tight lips before pulling out a piece of paper and sliding it across the table toward me. “And remember, if you need anything … and I mean anything, you call me, okay?”

I give her a fake smile while inwardly laughing at the thought of me getting my hands on a cell phone to be able to call her in the first place, but truth be told, I’m perfectly fine in this fucked-up world and I think she can see that. She’s a smart woman and I’ve appreciated her visit, but just one look at me and she can see the hell I’ve been through over the past few months. There’s no denying that she knows who Marcus is; the whole world does. I just have to hope that she’s smart enough to keep her mouth shut about today’s appointment. If she knows what’s good for her, she will, and I don’t mean that as a threat. I truly hope she doesn’t try anything stupid like swooping in to save me. I don’t need a hero, not anymore. I am my own hero.

I get up to walk her out and she reaches down, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Careful,” she says. “Take it slowly. Your arm may be numb for a little while longer, but the anesthetic will start to wear off and you might experience some discomfort. It shouldn’t hang around for too long.”

Nodding my head, I give her a genuine smile. I like this doctor. She was very thorough with me and actually seems to care. She didn’t care for Marcus’ grumpy ass attitude across the room, and she gave out just as much lip as he did in her endeavor to care for me. She did a quick pregnancy test to cover all bases before shoving this thing in my arm, and as we waited for the results, she looked over some of my still healing wounds, though there wasn’t much she could do for them.

I don’t know what it is about a pregnancy test that makes the worst kind of anxiety pulse through my veins, but it was the longest three minutes of my whole time being here so far, and that’s saying a lot. I’m all for women having babies, good for them. I hope their little bundle of joy makes them the happiest motherfuckers around town, but that shit ain’t for me, at least, not yet, and certainly not while I’m still navigating my way around this world. This life isn’t safe for a baby, and Roman’s new son is proof of that. Hell, we can barely keep track of that one. Having another would be a foolish move.

With some more care instructions and some medication to help with my healing wounds, the doctor walks out and I stand with Marcus as she makes her way down the grand entrance of the DeAngelis mansion. “Please don’t hurt this one,” I mutter, hoping to God that she can’t hear my voice trailing across the wind. “I like her.”

Marcus narrows his eyes and I know that one comment from me will keep her safe whether he likes it or not. His lips press into a tight line. “She’s way too confident,” he murmurs.

“I know,” I laugh, slipping my arm through his and dropping my head to his shoulder. “That’s what I like about her. Do you have any idea how refreshing it is to watch other people converse with you three when they’re not afraid of you? It’s the most amusing thing I’ve ever seen.”

He shakes his head. “That only goes to prove just how stupid she is.”

I roll my eyes as she gets into her car and makes a hasty escape. I’m sure she’s not blind to the fact that her life was in immediate danger had she pushed the limits just a little too far. I bet she’s sitting in that car with shaky hands on the steering wheel and sweat pooling under her ass. “She’s not stupid,” I tell him, pulling back on his arm as she disappears down the long drive. “She just cares, and what more could you ask for from your doctor?”

We step back inside the big mansion and find Roman and Levi pushing their way through to the internal garage. My brows furrow and I follow them in. “Going somewhere?” I ask, watching as they empty the back of a few SUVs, clearing them out.

“Heading back to the castle to get our shit,” Levi says, glancing up at me. “You coming, or do you want to chill out here?”

I scoff, staring at him as though he just grew another head. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You want to leave me here alone so I can get kidnapped again? I mean, sure. I didn’t think we’d be putting this new tracker into action quite so soon, but if you’re sure.”

Levi pauses, glancing up at me again before the corner of his mouth pulls into a wicked smirk. “That was pretty stupid, huh?”

I laugh and roll my eyes as Marcus strides past me to help the guys unload. “Probably your stupidest comment yet,” I agree. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready to go.”

Levi gets back to work without another word, and I slip back into the main part of the mansion and make my way up to my room to get dressed. I can only imagine the type of shit the boys need to collect from their old prison. They made quite the collection of weapons over the ten years they were locked up there, not to mention the fact that Levi doesn’t have a drum kit here. How the hell is he supposed to give me wild drum fuckery without one of those?

After dressing in a matching crop and tights, I pull my hair into a high bun on top of my head and slip my feet into a pair of white sneakers. The comfort of this outfit is beyond anything I’ve ever known, and damn it, it looks cute too. I look like I’m ready to throw down at the gym and start counting calories and macros … whatever the fuck they are, but in reality, I’m probably just going to stand back out of the way, having absolutely no idea how to handle the type of weapons they’re wanting to collect.

Grabbing my pillow off my bed and a soft blanket out of my closet, I make my way back downstairs. It’s a good few hours back to the castle, and after spending the night with Marcus and getting absolutely no sleep, a good nap would do me good.

I step through to the garage right as Marcus steps away from the cars to come and find me, my timing impeccable. “You riding with me?”

Glancing over his shoulder, I take in Roman as he pulls open his driver’s side door and climbs into one of the three black SUVs lining the garage. “Depends,” I mutter. “Do you plan on chit-chatting and listening to screeching music the whole way?”

Marcus scoffs, a grin stretching across his face. “How else do you intend to travel? That’s the only way.”

I look at him in horror. I can’t think of anything worse, at least, just for today. A bit of silence will do me good, even if it means riding with the broodiest asshole in town. As much as I love Marcus’ random chatter, and even if he promised to keep it to a minimum, he wouldn’t be able to make any guarantees. He simply can’t help himself. Roman though, despite his glares, fuming, and brooding, I can guarantee complete and utter silence. There’s just no comparison.

Levi was out of the running before there was even a question. I can only imagine the loud bullshit that would come tearing through his speakers for the next few hours, and I simply can’t stomach it today. The only way I’ll listen to that is if it’s a set of drums directly in front of me and I can feel the vibrations slamming against my chest as he looks at me with a promise to fuck me just as hard as he hits his drums, and damn it, he always comes through.

My gaze sweeps back to Roman and as he tosses something onto his passenger seat, my decision is made. “Ooooh, he’s got snacks.”

Traipsing past Marcus who looks at me like I just kicked his puppy, I slip straight into the backseat of Roman’s SUV and place my pillow down on the leather seat, more than ready to get comfortable for the long ride. Roman stiffens as his head whips around into the backseat. His dark eyes are wide, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so horrified. “No,” he says, gaping at me, the confusion marring his face like nothing I’ve ever seen, and damn it, I think I like bringing this reaction out of him. “Out. There’s no fucking way. Ride with one of my brothers.”

Giving him an innocent smile, I press my head down against my pillow and lay my blanket over myself, making a show of getting comfortable. “Too late now, I’m already here,” I tell him before indicating toward his snacks with a raised, curious brow. “Got any candy up there?”

Roman turns back in his seat and blows out his cheeks, silently fuming as I pull my blanket right up to cover the wide shit-eating grin that tears across my face. A moment passes and I listen to the soft thuds of the boys closing their doors, and not a moment later, Roman tosses a packet of Reese’s peanut butter cups into the back and hits the gas, sailing out of the garage with his brothers following suit.

After napping the majority of the way, Roman wakes me as we make our way down the long driveway of the massive castle. Pushing myself up from my pillow and sitting back in the center seat, I rub at my eyes and stare out through the windshield. “I’ve never gotten past how stunning this place is,” I murmur on a yawn, unable to take my eyes off the castle that changed my life, though I’m still undecided if that change was for the better.

“After ten years of imprisonment, the novelty of it kinda wears off,” he tells me.

I drop my tone, the heaviness of his words sinking into my chest. “I can only imagine.”

All three of the SUVs are backed into the garage and I don’t even want to know what type of things the guys are going to load the cars with. If it were up to me, I’d be getting back the clothes and sentimental shit that I’ve accumulated over the years, but the boys are a different breed.

They get busy, not wasting a damn second as they load up the first SUV and it becomes startlingly clear just how many of these trips we’re going to have to make. Hell, the boys should have brought a fucking truck for this shit, though that would only draw the wrong kind of attention, and after the close call with the FBI at the tomb party, I bet they’re looking for absolutely anything they can get their hands on to make a clean arrest.

Not wanting to handle all the weapons and feeling as though I’m only getting in the way, I head into the castle and make my way straight to the bathroom. It was a long trip, what’s a girl to do?

After finishing up and splashing water over my face, I make my way around the castle, moving from room to room and scooping up anything I think the boys might want to keep. I’m all too aware of their mother laying up in the tallest room of the castle, Snow White style, and I don’t doubt that the boys will eventually make arrangements to get her so they can bury her properly, but until then, I sure as fuck won’t be going up there, especially by myself.

I place bags upon bags at the internal entrance of the garage and hate the way my stomach clenches as I collect all of Marcus’ special trophies, knowing just how attached he is to this shit. I’m sure Levi and Roman will be doing the very same with their own trophies, but unlike Marcus, they haven’t proudly shown theirs off, and I have no idea where they actually keep them.

I haul the last of it back to the garage and pass Levi in the den, pulling one of his many drum kits to pieces when a hand clamps down over my mouth and I’m dragged backward into a dark corner, my back pressed firmly up against a wide chest.

Terror rips through me and just as I go to slam my elbow back into my attacker’s stomach the way the boys have trained me, a familiar, hushed, “Shhhhh,” falls around me. I twist my head back to find Roman standing at my back and he cautiously releases his hand from my mouth as he holds up a finger, warning me to stay silent.

My brows furrow and I stare at him in confusion. Without missing a beat, he slips his arm around my waist and silently repositions me enough for us to both peer around the corner.

My heart leaps out of my chest, and as I suck in a gasp, Roman’s hand slams down over my mouth, muffling the soft sound as we watch in silence while a man slips in through the dining room, peering his head around a corner in an attempt to keep himself hidden.

I recognize him instantly, and just seeing his face sends a wave of furious rage coursing through my veins as the need to pummel his ass slams into my chest. Judging by the look on Roman’s face, he has absolutely no idea who the fuck this man is and that only pisses me off more. I look up at him and catch his eye, but not wanting to make a sound and give our location away, I’m at a loss.

My hand slips back and skims over the front of Roman’s jeans. He flinches as my fingers brush past his junk, and he shoots a glare at me, assuming I’m trying to get down and dirty in the worst possible way. Ignoring his sharp glare, I continue feeling around before slipping my fingers into his pocket and letting out a silent breath of relief as my fingers curl around his phone.

Pulling it out, I waste no time opening up a new text message and quickly typing as Roman watches our new intruder over my shoulder. Finishing my explanation, I hold the phone up to Roman at an angle where he can read my message while also keeping an eye on the man slowly slipping out of the dining hall.

That’s James. The fucker who kidnapped Jasmine. I recognize him from the tomb party.

Anger burns in Roman’s eyes as a dark shadow cuts across my vision, and I find Marcus silently stalking the asshole through the castle. He catches my stare, and I don’t miss the way his gaze sweeps over me, checking that I’m alright with Roman before continuing his stalking with a sick smirk twisting over his delicious lips. It’s as though all his Christmases have come at once. There’s nothing the DeAngelis brothers like more than stalking a victim on their own turf where they control the game. Trust me, I’d know.

Roman shifts us in our position, having the best vantage spot to watch James from all angles but as he moves toward the den, fear rattles through me.

“Levi?” I murmur, my voice so low that I doubt Roman even hears me, but the thought of Levi carelessly pulling his drum kit into pieces without knowing what’s going on out here terrifies me and has a fat lump forming in my throat.

“Levi is a big boy,” Roman tells me, silently moving us across the room as James disappears into the darkened den. “He can handle himself.”

That’s proven a moment later as we slip inside the den to find absolutely no sign of Levi, though only a moment ago he was sprawled out on the ground pulling the drum kit to pieces. I don’t see him anywhere, but he’s not the only person I can’t see.

We hide in the shadow of the big party room, and while I hate being in this particular room, I suck it up. Now is not the time to get caught up in the terrors of my time here. My sharp gaze scans the room, searching for James. The hairs rising on the back of my neck tell me he’s in here, though I come up blank until Roman takes my chin and turns me toward the corner of the room.

James stands in the shadows, his skillful gaze sailing around the room, though judging by the way he’s still searching, he has absolutely no idea where any of us are, and I don’t doubt that in a moment, he’ll move onto the next room, searching until he gets what he wants.

But what is that? Why the fuck is he here? Did he find out about Jasmine? That I was the one who took her? Does he know that we brought her back here? Is he here looking for her or is he here to punish me? Who fucking knows. Perhaps this is completely unrelated and he has business with the boys that they don’t know about.

A sickening shiver trails down my spine, and I know without a doubt that this is about me.

He’s slowly slinking through the room, none the wiser about the three DeAngelis devils slowly stalking him. It’s like a twisted game of cat and mouse, only James thinks he’s the cat. He’s never been so wrong.

If only there were a way to keep him from walking out of the den. There are too many passageways that lead out from here. If he were to walk out the back entrance, we wouldn’t be able to follow him without being caught. We’d lose him first, and that’s a risky game, one that I’m not willing to play, especially now that we have him in our sights.

If he thinks he’s the cat, then why not give him a chance to flex?

The idea filters through my mind, but I know exactly what the boys would think about it, and as the phone silently vibrates in my hand and I glance down, that point is only proven.

Marcus - Don’t even think about it.

My gaze shoots up and I find Marcus stepping out of the shadows just enough for me to find him, his fuming expression warning me that I’ll be punished for what I’m about to do.

Roman’s hold tightens on my body, keeping me close as he reads the message over my shoulder, trying to figure out what the hell Marcus could mean. But my mind is set, and without a hint of warning, I push out of his arms and drag my feet as I make my way across the room.

I keep my head down, but I feel the exact moment that James gets me in his sights. His wicked stare is like two laser beams pinning the back of my head, watching my every step like a lion playing with his meal, and despite just how dangerous this man is, I know that I have never been safer in my life.

Pushing my way in behind the fully stocked bar, I turn my back and reach up to grab a glass tumbler before placing it down on the bar as though I don’t have a care in the world. It’s well after midday now, and it’s more than acceptable to pour myself a stiff drink.

Grabbing the bottle of vodka and the orange juice from the row of bar fridges below, I get to work pouring my drink, and all too soon, his game of cat and mouse begins.

Hiding the grin that stretches across my face, I watch out of the corner of my eye as James slowly stalks me, moving across the room in a way that he thinks he’ll be able to get the jump on me, completely unaware of the fact that I’m drawing him out and that he’s the one currently being stalked.

Turning around, I push the bottle of vodka back onto its high shelf and as I do, I catch Levi across the room. He doesn’t look happy about the situation, but it’s a little too late to change the plan. He watches me with a hard stare, his eyes focused heavily on mine, but I know he’s also watching James slowly moving toward me. Levi won’t let anything happen to me.

Holding his stare a moment longer, I wait, knowing James won’t be able to resist jumping at me now that my back is turned. That’s just what men like him do. They attack women when they’re most vulnerable and not in a position to fight back, just as he did to Jasmine. He kidnapped her for weeks and she endured the worst kind of abuse at his hands, and because of that, he will not walk out of this castle alive. This sorry fucker has got another thing coming.

Levi nods and just as he mouths the word, “now,” I spin around, and drop down low, narrowly avoiding James’ arms as they swing toward me. Without skipping a beat, I kick my heel out with a powerful strike to his balls just as the boys taught me, only the momentum from his missed swing has him falling forward and my heel connecting with his guts instead.

It doesn’t quite have the effect that I was hoping for, but it’s enough to bring him down with a pained groan, if only for the quick second I need to get the upper hand.

The unexpected blow has him winded, and I take my chance, stepping into him and grabbing his head. Without a second of hesitation, I slam my knee up as hard as I can, crushing his skull into it. It kills my knee, and I know that I’ll pay for it later, but damn it, the way his nose shatters under my knee is worth every second of pain.

Blood spurts like a tap as he roars in agony, only just realizing what a horrible mistake he’s made by stepping into this castle. Obviously, he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with here. If he did, the mere thought of breaking into this property would have him crippled with fear.

Giving him a hard shove, James falls right to the ground. I step into him, my white sneaker pressing against his junk as he stares up at me with heavy regret in his eyes.

The boys peel out of the shadowed corners of the room, surrounding us from all angles, and as a wicked grin stretches across my face, I allow the power to sweep through my bones. “And so, we meet again.”

12

Marcus glares at me across the open space of their underground playground as James hangs from chains behind us. I can’t help but return his stare and arch my brow in irritation. “Seriously?” I snap. “Get the fuck over it. This is my game. He’s here because I brought Jasmine here, so it’s only fair that I get to handle it my way.”

Marcus’ eyes narrow and Levi takes a step back, wanting nothing to do with it as Roman leans against a table, looking bored. “I told you no,” Marcus says.

“I heard your ‘no’ loud and clear and decided that you can go and fuck yourself with a machete,” I say, looking up at him with big, round, innocent eyes, reminding him that while I am sugary sweet, I’m also as sour as they come. I’m not one he wants to cross when I’m fifty shades of pissed off. “I’m your equal, remember. Or have you forgotten? I’m not your little bitch to push around, not anymore.”

Marcus scoffs and runs his hands through his hair as his frustration gets the best of him. He turns his back as anger crashes through him like a tsunami, then after a slow deep breath, he turns and steps into me, gripping my chin and forcing my stare to his. “You think that is what this is about? That I just want to flex my control over you? That I want to whip out my fucking dick and watch the way you drop to your knees like a good little girl that knows her place?” he spits, his dark eyes blazing with fury. “Fucking hell, Shayne. Don’t you think I’ve learned anything over the past few months? I didn’t want you putting yourself in that position because every fucking time you step out of our grasps, I’m terrified that I’m going to fucking lose you. I don’t want you to do it because I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m not trying to control you, babe. I want to fucking live for you.”

I suck in a breath as he tears away from me, his emotions too much for him to bear let alone take in myself. Stepping straight back into him, I take his hands before they start tearing out his hair and thread his fingers through mine. “I’m fine,” I murmur. “I knew what I was doing, and I knew that with you and your brothers in the room, I was safe. You wouldn’t have let anything happen to me, and Roman sure as fuck wouldn’t have allowed me to slip out of his hold if he didn’t approve.”

“Because Roman is a fucking idiot,” Marcus scoffs before dropping his gaze over my body and pulling his hand from mine. His fingertips brush along the many scars marring my flesh. “Yeah,” he mutters. “You’re real fucking safe with us.”

Anger blasts through me and I grip his chin in a bruising hold that he seems to revel in, loving any form of punishment any way he can get it. “Don’t you dare,” I spit at him, hating how he doubts himself. “Every single one of these scars were out of your control, and you’ve done everything you can to get vengeance for every fucking one of them. Now cut your bullshit and man the fuck up. I did what I did, and now it’s time to see it through.”

His eyes blaze as I hear Levi choke on his own fucking spit and smother a laugh. I don’t doubt that these boys have never been spoken to like that in their lives, apart from the horrendous way their father has always treated them, but that doesn’t count. They simply don’t allow people to get away with this shit, and the fact that I can, fills my veins with a venomous type of power, one that no woman should be entitled to.

Marcus holds my stare for a moment longer, a challenge clear in his eyes, but I know he sees the one reflected in mine, and really, he’s not mad at me. Sure, he’s got his feathers ruffled, but he’s really mad at himself. He hates how much he cares for me. Hates that the idea of me getting hurt makes him lose his mind. But what he hates most is the feeling of powerlessness, the feeling of not being able to turn it off, of not being able to push me away like he’s always been taught. His heart won’t allow him to.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he tells me.

My lips pull into a smirk as I push up onto my tippy toes and brush my lips over his, earning myself a roll of Roman’s dark eyes. “It’s more than over,” I tell him. “Now let’s go have some fun. Don’t you think we deserve it?”

His eyes soften as the excitement begins to build deep within him. “Alright, let’s go.”

Hook. Line. And freaking sinker.

Roman pushes off the table as Marcus steps out of my personal space and turns toward the dangling man behind us. “You know what you’re doing?” Levi questions, stepping in beside me as we make our way toward the grunting man.

I shake my head, my lips twisting with unease. “No,” I tell them truthfully, the fact that I’m way out of my league is messing with my head. “I figured we were just going to … kill him.”

“We will,” Roman says, his piercing eyes focused heavily on James as his nose continues to drip from its recent break. “But first he needs to answer some questions.”

My brows furrow. Questions? What kind of questions could they possibly ask him? We already know everything there is to know. He wanted Jasmine and has clearly tracked her movement back here and wants revenge for it.

We step up in front of him and the guy spits a mouthful of blood at me as he pulls against the heavy chains keeping him bound. My lips twist in disgust as his spit drops with a wet splash at my feet, and damn it, the fury that ripples through Marcus is almost comical.

I expect Marcus to take the lead, but Roman steps up, moves out in front of us and puts himself at James’ side so as to not block our view. “What are you doing in our home?” Roman asks him, his deadly warning to not fuck with us sending chills down my spine.

James pulls against his chains, knowing damn well how this is going to end. He raises his head with a sickening smirk on his lips as he looks directly in my eyes. “I came for the bitch,” he spits, choosing to go out in typical douchebag style. “She took what was mine.”

Roman fixes him with a hard stare. “Come on, now. You know the rules. If you lose your bitch, that’s on you. Mine isn’t for sale.”

Fury tears through James and he pulls hard on the chains, tearing at his skin until it bleeds. “I didn’t fucking lose her. That bitch stole her.”

“That bitch,” Roman says, spitting the word. “Saved her in that fucking tomb when you left her to die. So as far as I’m concerned, you forfeited. Your little piece of ass was open for the taking, and you better fucking believe that we took her.”

James laughs. “You think I give a shit about her?” he spits. “No. I want what I’m owed.”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. You will have plenty of time with her, though I can’t guarantee that you’re going to enjoy it,” Roman teases, slicing his devilish gaze back to me, his eyes sparkling with the endless things I could do to him. Only, something in James’ words feels like lead spreading through my veins.

“Owed?” I question. “No one owes you shit. I saved her and that’s the end of it.”

James scoffs, yanking against his chains and splitting his skin. “Not according to Daddy DeAngelis,” he says as though that’s supposed to scare me. “I paid a pretty penny for you, and I won’t stop until I get what’s mine.”

I laugh, understanding dawning on me as the boys watch on through narrowed, confused eyes. “You’re the buyer those guards were preparing me for?” I ask with amusement, my lips twisting into a wicked grin. “I should have just stayed put. I could have killed you back then and had a nice ride for the journey home.”

Marcus steps forward, his dark gaze sweeping to me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your father sold Ariana,” I remind them. “It’s only natural for him to have done the same with me. And apparently this asshole was his new buyer they were preparing me for. Though, I’m a bit disappointed. I would have preferred a guy with a bigger dick.”

“Release me,” James roars. “I’ll show you just how fucking big my dick really is. What I did to Jasmine would be like child’s play compared to how I’ll destroy you.”

Roman laughs, slipping his hands into his pockets as Levi crosses his big arms over his chest, his eyes narrowed on James. “How did you know where to find us?” he questions, the little pieces of the puzzle simply not fitting together. Something is missing, a key piece of information and the boys won’t stop until they get what they want.

James scoffs. “Followed her foul stench.”

Roman’s fist promptly lunges out, cracking against James’ cheek and splitting his skin with the forceful impact. Marcus laughs as my eyes go wide, watching the way James’ body flies back; only the way he hangs from the chains in the ceiling has him coming straight back for more.

Roman reaches up and grips the chains at his wrist, pulling him into his face. “You were asked a question,” he spits, absolutely hating having to deal with rich bastards who think they’re above the law. “How did you find us?”

It’s one thing having to deal with men like Roman and his brothers, men who are mentally deranged after a lifetime of abuse, men who are just as wicked as they are, but then there are men like James who are doing it all for show. They want to appear bad, broken, and psychotic. They want to be the big bad wolf, when in reality, they’re little Miss Piggies who’ll shit their pants at the first sign of real danger. Hell, I bet he felt like the fucking man when he was beating on Jasmine, raping her day and night, but I wonder just how big he feels now.

The two men hold each other’s stares, but it won’t take long before James caves. I’ve been on the receiving end of one of Roman’s stares and it’s brutal. Hell, he didn’t even give me the full effect. He held back just to spare me. I think it’s got something to do with that scar. It makes him look as though he’ll tear your face right off your body with nothing but his teeth. Though, I wouldn’t dare put the idea in his head because he seems like the kind of savage who’d follow through.

They hold each other’s stare for a moment longer before James breaks under the pressure and is forced to glance away, but as a grin rips across his face, it’s clear that he thinks he has one last card to play. “Your father,” he spits. “Giovanni gave you up like a fucking dried out whore.”

Levi snickers beside me as Roman just shakes his head. “Fucking hell,” he says. “Even in hiding he still finds time to fuck with losers like you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Roman laughs. “If my father sent you here, then he sent you here to die. He was through with you and whatever … business arrangement you had.”

James shakes his head, a smug look crossing his lips. “You’ve got no fucking clue, do you?”

Roman steps in close, his gaze shifting up and down before coming back to James, his stare like two deadly lasers penetrating deep inside his victim. “I couldn’t give a shit what kind of deal you have with my father, because when your head is rolling around in that wheelbarrow over there,” Roman says, pointing toward the very wheelbarrow the boys will use to discard his body, “your deal will be null and void. But there’s no need to worry, he’ll be joining you in hell the second his bitch ass steps out of hiding. Then the two of you can fuck around in hell and make all the goddamn deals you want.”

“Fuck you,” James roars, spitting a mouthful of blood all over Roman’s face.

I suck in a breath, my back stiffening as I watch the show and I find myself gripping Levi’s arm, certain that Roman is about to lose his shit and end this in one foul swoop, but to my surprise, he calmly takes a step back and wipes a hand down his face. “I really wish you hadn’t done that,” Roman says. “You see, we promised Shayne that she would get to end your life for Jasmine’s sake, but now, I fear that you’re going to force me to break my promise. You’re lucky that I’m a man of my word, because I can guarantee that anything she has in mind is going to be a breath of fresh air compared to what I would have done to you.”

I laugh, that sick little devil rearing its ugly head inside of me. “I don’t know about that,” I mutter, my plan making me all giddy, though I know it shouldn’t. I should be fearing for my soul, but my excitement is too much. After what he did to Jasmine, he deserves the very worst, and I am going to take great pleasure in getting to be the one who gets to do it.

At that, Roman turns back to me. “Are you ready?”

I hesitate a moment, not wanting to seem too eager, after all, I’m supposed to be the innocent one of the group. What would they think of me if they knew just how sinister, sick, and twisted my thoughts have been? “You don’t want to find out what this deal was first?” I ask, certain that selling me to him wasn’t the deal they’re referring to.

Roman shakes his head and the giddiness burns like an inferno inside me. He pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his sculpted torso below and my mouth waters as my thighs clench. He’s fucking gorgeous. “No point,” he murmurs, completely oblivious to the turmoil he’s rained down over my body and mind. “Whatever deal they had won’t matter after this. Though, he’s obviously the guy my father was nervous about us meeting during the tomb party. So at least some questions have been answered.”

“Okay,” I say slowly. “So …”

“So, the floor is all yours,” Marcus says. “If you need help with anything, just let us know. Bare hands, tools, teeth … whatever you want, but you better make me proud. I didn’t come all the way down here for a simple bullet between the eyes.”

I meet Marcus’ flirty stare as a wicked grin stretches across my face. “Where are these tools you speak of?”

Marcus laughs before sweeping his hand toward the side of the room in a grand gesture. “Right this way, if you will.”

He leads the way and I follow along with shaky hands. What I’m about to do is a big step. There’s a huge difference between shooting my father and killing the man who held me hostage. This right here is cold-blooded revenge murder, but after the shit I’ve already done, what does one more kill really matter? If I get caught, I’m already doing maximum time. I might as well make it count and take as many assholes off the street in the process.

Marcus shows off the wide array of tools and I look over them with curious glances, trying to picture the outcome of each one. There’s a power drill, a saw, all kinds of hammers. It’s as though the boys stepped inside a hardware store and just said, ‘we’ll take one of everything’ and walked out again.

My gaze skims over everything until I finally find what I’m looking for and smile at the fucker. Walking toward it, I curl my fingers around the handle and pick it up. It’s much heavier than I thought, but I can manage. It’s not like I’m going to need it for long.

“Fuck me,” Marcus breathes in adoration, taking in the chainsaw in my hand. “You’re my fucking queen. Have I ever told you that?”

I grin back at him and raise my brows. “And here I thought you were mad at me.”

“Screw that, all I want to do is fuck you now.”

“Well, you might just get your chance,” I tell him, glancing back at James and then down at my chainsaw in thought. “You don’t happen to have a splash mask, do you?” I question, waving my hand in front of my face, disgusted with the thought that I won’t just be in the splash zone, I’ll take the brunt of it. “Raincoat, perhaps?”

Marcus laughs. “Sorry, babe. You’re on your own with this one,” he tells me, pressing a gentle hand to the small of my back and leading me toward the boys.

“Well, fuck,” Levi says, glancing at Roman as he takes in the chainsaw. “We underestimated you.”

“People usually do,” I tell him before stepping forward and having to put the chainsaw down in front of James as the weight of the stupid thing has my arm screaming for sweet release.

James looks at the chainsaw in horror, his breath coming in fast, sharp gasps as he shakes his head, yanking hard against the chains and making the sound echo through the massive underground playground. “No,” he spits, giving me exactly what I want. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you fucked in the head? You won’t get away with this you fucking psychotic bitch.”

I hold up my hand and indicate for him to be quiet. “Hush now,” I warn him, wishing there was some way that I could reach Jasmine to show her this precious moment, though that will never happen. She’s long gone, safe with her family and trying to put the horrible things this man did behind her. “You are vile, are you aware of this?” I ask. “It would be my absolute pleasure to rid this world of you.”

“Fuck you,” he spits.

“Look, I hadn’t planned on ramming anything up your ass. That wasn’t in today’s schedule,” I tell him as I step toward him and tear his shirt down the center, letting it hang open. “But if you insist, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Horror washes over his face and I’m not surprised by his fear of being fucked in the ass. Guys like that usually are. The idea of throwing a woman down and raping her repeatedly is cool, but the second his asshole is involved, he goes running like a fucking bitch. It irritates me. People who can’t take what they dish out are the weakest type of humans. He’s just lucky that I have absolutely no intention of messing around with his asshole. I couldn’t think of anything worse. Besides, just because I plan to murder him, doesn’t mean that I should be lowering my standards and beliefs.

Hearing Marcus and Levi’s amused snickers behind me, I can’t help the wide smile spreading across my face. I must look like a crazed lunatic. But hey, when in Rome, right? He hurt Jasmine in the most brutal and degrading kind of way, and for that, I will make sure that his final few moments on this big green earth are spent in the most horrifying kind of fear. Hell, who knows how many other women he’s hurt.

Bending down, I reach for the chainsaw and look around it. I can’t say that I’ve ever used one of these before, and to be honest, I’m kind of scared of it. I mean, I don’t want to lose a finger, but I also don’t want to appear like an amateur in front of this guy. I want him to fear me. I want him to start praying to whatever god he believes in. I want to see him piss his pants as he meets my eyes.

Levi clears his throat. “Do you need a hand with that?”

I shake my head, determined to figure it out. “I got this,” I declare with the utmost confidence.

Roman mutters under his breath and that one little sound sends a wave of doubt through my mind that grows on me like cancer.

That asshole. Why does he always have to ruin a good thing?

Feeling around the chainsaw, I search for some kind of on button, but after going over it twice, all I find is this weird little plastic thing hanging out the side. Am I supposed to pull it? I shoot a glance toward Marcus and he subtly nods, reading my thoughts, and without a second of hesitation, I curl my fingers around the little plastic holder and pull it with everything I have.

A long rope comes out of the chainsaw and my arm aches from the movement, but not a damn thing happens. “What the hell?” I mutter, giving it another go while Roman watches me with a smirk.

My arm begins to burn and Levi eventually steps forward. “Move over,” he tells me before picking up the chainsaw, curling his fingers around the plastic handle for the pull start motor. He tears it back with skilled precision, his muscles bulging and putting on the best kind of show as the motor immediately responds. But I don’t doubt it, those fingers get my motor going too.

Levi hands me the chainsaw and gives me a brief explanation of what I need to do, and I give it a test, pulling back on the lever and watching how the blade spins. A sharp, barking laugh tears out of me as my eyes go wide. “Holy shit,” I roar, glancing back at Marcus. “Did you see that?”

“Sure did, baby,” he says, cheering me on.

Turning back toward James, I look up at him with a wide smile, letting him see the twisted, dark animal that lives deep inside of me. “Sorry about that,” I say in a sickening sweet tone, filled with the most deceiving kind of innocence. “I’m a chainsaw virgin, but I think I’ve worked out all the kinks. I’m ready to go.”

He glares at me, his jaw clenched tight, but I see the overwhelming fear in his eyes. I doubt he knows what I plan to do, but where a chainsaw is involved, it could never be good.

The motor rumbles through the boys’ playground and bounces off every wall, and as I lift it a little higher, gripping the heavy machine tightly, my arms shake with its vibrations. A ferociousness comes over me as I step in nice and close to meet James' terrified stare. “This is for every woman you have ever hurt. Every woman whose innocence you stole, whose dignity you dragged through the mud. This is their vengeance, their time to fucking shine.”

And with that, I pull the lever back, watching as the sharp jagged blade spins with an impossible speed. James’ screams tear through the playground, the haunting sound like music to my ears, and without another second of hesitation, I press the jagged blade to his waist and tear straight through his flesh.

Blood spurts like a powerful hose, drenching me from head to toe, but I keep at it, ripping through his hip and crunching through his spine. The motor shakes and my arms feel the burn, but I won’t dare stop, my determination like none other.

His lower half dangles and as I tear through the final bits of flesh, it drops like a sack of shit as his wrists keep his top half hanging from the chains. I don’t even recall the moment he died. Was it when I first got him with the chainsaw or when I severed his spine? Perhaps it was the quick blood loss that did it. I have no idea.

Dropping the chainsaw with a heavy thump, the motor cuts out and I’m met with absolute silence behind me. Are they shocked by what I just did? Horrified? Turned on? I don’t think I even care.

I feel a wave of darkness consuming my soul, and I know without a doubt that what I just did has cost me dearly, but I can't find it within myself to care. Those women deserved to have that monster put down like the fucking animal he was. Jasmine deserved it.

My hands wipe over my face, getting rid of the blood that soaks my skin, but all that does is smear it more. I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning and it’s left me with invincible power pulsing through my veins.

Time slows and I can feel my heart thumping loudly in my ears as I turn to face the brothers. Roman watches me through a shocked stare and I briefly make out the shape of his mouth moving in the words “Holy shit.” Concern flickers through Levi’s gaze as he gapes at me in wonder, but Marcus … fuck, he looks as though he’s just watched an angel descend from the heavens.

He walks into me and takes my shaky hand in his before he drops to his knees, James’ blood splashing up around him. Marcus holds my stare, his big, dark eyes capturing mine with the kind of intensity that makes my heart pound a million times faster. “Shayne Mariano,” he breathes, almost as though the words are hard to say. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

13

Marcus’ whispered words hit me like a million tiny knives stabbing into my skin and forcing their way into my bloodstream. I drop down onto his lap, my knees falling on either side of his strong thighs as his arms enclose around me. “You mean that?” I question, terrified of learning that this is some sick joke that gets him off, but then, I’m also terrified of what it would mean if every single word he speaks is as real as it gets.

Marcus nods slowly, his eyes not leaving mine for even a second. “I am in complete awe of your beauty, your strength, and your no bullshit determination. The way you’ve come into my world, grabbed it by the fucking horns, and stepped up to the challenge. Fuck, Shayne, you have captured me in a way that no other has ever done, and I promise you, from now until my dying days, that I will serve you with every fucking beat of my dead heart.”

My jaw drops, a soft gasp tearing from the back of my throat. “Those are some fighting words right there, Marcus DeAngelis,” I warn him, every single person in this room knowing all too well the consequences that a claim like that could have.

“I don’t fucking care,” he tells me, his arms tightening as he pulls me in even closer before lowering us both to the blood-soaked ground, his lips brushing over mine. “To hell with it all. You’re my fucking world now.”

His lips crush down over mine and I capture them with the same ferocity and desperation that pulses out of him. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, both of us fighting for domination as we become crazed with need and a mess of tangled limbs.

My hair soaks into the pool of blood beneath me as Marcus pulls back and sits up on me, straddling my waist with his strong thighs. His hungry stare looms over me, scouring every inch of my body, and when his bloodied fingers tangle into the front of my destroyed white tank and tears the fabric apart, a needy groan slips from deep in my throat.

Fucking hell. I need him.

Reaching up, I grip his belt and hastily undo it, and the clanging of the metal buckle echoes through the wide-open space. I get his fly undone when his patience to have me wears thin. He climbs off me and rids himself of his pants in seconds, and before I can even take him in, my destroyed sweats are flying across the room.

Marcus reaches down for me and I grip his hand. He yanks me up with a strong, powerful pull that sends me soaring right up out of the pool of blood and into his arms. He catches me with ease, and I feel his straining cock pressing tight against my clit.

Groans pull from deep within me as he turns and walks us toward the tool bench across the room, and I’m distantly aware that we’re now alone down here. I don’t know when Levi and Roman walked away, but I’m thankful they’re giving us this moment.

Marcus swings one arm across the surface of the tool bench, scattering hammers and screwdrivers before dropping me to the table. Marcus’ hungry kiss comes back to my lips as he steps between my knees and spreads my legs wide.

Reaching down between us, I grip his engorged cock and feel that velvety skin beneath my palm. My hand moves up and down, squeezing his tip as my thumb works right over its head. Marcus groans into my mouth and barely a moment passes before I feel his fingers pushing between my folds to tease my clit. He rubs tight circles with his thumb as his fingers dive a little deeper and push up into my cunt, curling just enough to hit that spot that has my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

I pull away from his kiss as I suck in a loud gasp, tipping my head back in pure ecstasy. His kiss falls to my throat, and I don’t miss the way his lips linger on my skin, feeling the heavy thumping of my pulse beneath the surface. His teeth gently skim over my throat before I feel his addictive tongue working its way up to my ear, sending a wave of tingles through my body. I don’t know what it is about that spot below my ear, but both Levi and Marcus have noticed just how crazy it makes me.

I work his cock as my lips fall to his shoulder and bite down as my eyes roll in my head. He groans, loving the pain, and I know if he had his way, he’d have me biting down harder, but I won’t inflict that kind of pain on him. Stabbing a blade through his hand was enough for me, and from here on out, the only pain I’ll give him will end with him coming all over me.

“Fuck, Marc,” I pant as he works my cunt, his skilled fingers massaging deep inside of me. “I need you inside me. I need you to fuck me.”

A deep growl rumbles through his chest as he tears his fingers out and grips my thighs. He pulls me hard, and I slide to the edge of the table as a loud squeak tears out of my throat. Marcus lines himself up perfectly, and as I catch myself against his strong chest, his cock plunges deep inside of me.

My arms fly around his neck as my nails dig into the tight muscles of his back. “Holy shit,” I breathe, feeling him stretch me wide as he grips my thighs with a bruising hold.

He pauses as we both need a moment to adjust, our wicked pants sounding through the deadly playground. He slowly draws back and we both glance down, watching the way his thick, long cock slips back, coated with my arousal. Tingles spread over my body. There’s simply nothing better than this.

I bite down on my lip before glancing up and meeting his heated stare.

Fuck, he’s hungry for me.

The corner of his lips pull into a wicked smirk, and he holds my stare as he pushes back inside of me. I suck in a gasp as the butterflies explode deep in my stomach. Holy fuck. Whatever the hell this guy has that makes me feel like this needs to be bottled and sold for millions.

Marcus grips my chin and holds my stare, both of us panting heavily as he fucks me, stretching my walls like never before. “You’re mine,” he rumbles, the words speaking right to my heart. “When I fuck you, you’re mine.”

I nod. “Yours.”

His pace quickens and my pants and gasps match his thrusts, the intensity of his heated stare almost too much for me to take.

His fingers grip me tighter and I throw my head back. I’ve not been one to tell a man that I love him, but damn it, if he fucks me any harder the words might just come screaming out.

He gives me what I want, thrusting deep inside of me over and over again until the familiar, delicious fire burns inside of me, growing stronger by the second like a rapid inferno desperate to explode. But I hold onto it, not nearly ready for this to be over.

Marcus drops his gaze, breaking our heated stare so he can watch the way he fucks me, just like Levi does, and damn it, I fucking love it. I feel so exposed, and it makes me feel like the most sensual woman who ever walked the planet. He grips my thighs and rocks his hips, going as far back as he can without fully falling out of me, only to slam back in, his body rolling, clenching, and flinching with each movement.

“Marc,” I gasp, my nails digging in as the inferno deep inside of me builds higher. I reach down between us, feeling where we connect, feeling my arousal on his hard shaft and letting it mix onto my fingers. I can’t resist touching myself, rubbing quick, tight circles over my clit, and the moment I do, my body flinches and jolts, the power bubbling up inside of me too much to bear.

“That’s right, baby. Keep touching yourself,” he rumbles, his voice deep and strained as he’s pushed closer and closer to the edge, my pussy just moments from tearing him apart.

Fuck, there’s nothing better than knowing I have the power to make these incredible DeAngelis brothers come undone.

“More,” I pant with desperation. He gives me exactly what I’m asking for, his free hand twisting around me and knotting into my hair. He rips my head back and crushes his lips to my throat, his tongue roaming over my sensitive skin as his other hand cups my tit and gives it a firm squeeze before he rolls my pert nipple between his fingers. “Oh, fuck.”

My fingers work my clit as he works my cunt and every damn other inch of my body, fucking me hard and fast with the type of intensity that could drive a woman insane. No wonder bitches be throwing themselves at these men.

I take him harder, letting him pull me off the table just a little bit further until I’m barely holding on. My body is forced back to keep myself up, and the new angle sends him soaring so much deeper. His responding growl is all I need to warn me that this new position has him by the balls and it won’t be long until he gives himself to me.

My pussy clenches around him and we both groan as my fingers circle my clit. “Come for me,” Marcus demands, his jaw clenching as his fingers tighten on my body.

“Oh fuck,” I pant as I come hard. “I’m already there!”

My world explodes around me as my orgasm completely takes over, pulsing through my body like liquid gold. My head tips back as my pussy turns into a quivering mess, convulsing and squeezing Marcus’ thick cock as he keeps moving inside of me.

“Holy fuck,” Marcus spits through his clenched teeth. “You’re so goddamn tight when you squeeze me like that.”

I try to respond, try to tell him just how good it is for me, but my orgasm completely cripples me, and I’m lost for words. Its power leaves me defenseless and shattered in the best possible way. “Ah, fuck,” Marc growls as he shoots his load deep inside my cunt, his cum streaming out of him in hot quick bursts.

He doesn’t dare stop, letting me ride out my high as I struggle to catch my breath. He pinches my nipple, and the intensity sends a jolt of electricity shooting straight to my core, making me flinch with overwhelming pleasure. “Oh God, Marc. Yes.”

His thumb and forefinger gently rub my nipple, keeping my body alive as he slows his movements, his stiff cock moving like a gentle wave washing back and forth.

I finally let go, my orgasm releasing me from its tight bonds, and I let out a deep breath, holding onto Marcus with everything I have as he meets my sated stare. “You and me, baby. We’re going to make this world our bitch.”

A grin kicks up the corner of my mouth and I believe it with every fiber of my being. Especially with his brothers at our side. We will be unstoppable.

Marcus scoops his arm around me and keeps himself buried deep inside my cunt as he lifts me off the table and walks us across the playground until we’re moving into a massive bathroom. It’s not as fancy as the bathrooms in the main part of the castle, but it’s still better than anything I could have afforded.

The shower is huge, but something tells me it was made this way with the specific purpose of washing blood away after a particularly messy murder spree, and seeing as though blood is dripping from my hair and coating my body, it’s kinda perfect for what I need.

Marc steps into the shower, cranking the taps as he goes and letting the freezing water stream down over us. A piercing squeal tears from the back of my throat as the water drenches us, immediately washing the blood off my body.

I feel him growing hard inside me, but I pull away, the blood starting to bug me. He reluctantly pulls out of me and sets me on my feet, but he doesn’t dare step away, determined to keep his hands on my body as the water runs a deep shade of red.

After washing my hair and scrubbing James’ blood from my body, Marcus meets my stare. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to share you with my brothers now that I know how I feel about you.”

“Brothers?” I question. “Since when did Roman become a part of this little arrangement? Pretty sure you only have to fight Levi for my attention.”

Marcus scoffs, his fingers brushing over my body and skimming over the curve of my breast, stopping to tease my nipple, and getting a rise out of the way it hardens beneath his touch. “It’s inevitable. You’re into Roman, and that’s cool, but you should know the way he looks at you … baby, he never looked at Felicity like that. He’s just fucked up right now. He’s angry and he’ll never fucking admit it, but it’s there. You’ve fucked with all of our heads.”

My brow arches and I shake my head. “You don’t think you’ve done the same to me, oh creepy one?” I murmur, reaching down between us and stroking my fingers over his cock, loving the way it reacts to my touch. “You’ve destroyed me for any other man, so I swear to God, Marc. If you three fuckheads die in this war and leave me, I’ll be really fucking pissed.”

His arm curls around my body and pulls me in tight, crushing my chest against his. “Is that your way of saying you love me too?”

A grin pulls at the corners of my lips as I jump up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He slams my back up against the cold tiles of the shower and reaches down between us, the back of his hand skimming over my sensitive clit and making me flinch. He takes his cock and effortlessly slides back inside me.

A deep, guttural groan tears from me as I pull him in and brush my lips over his. “What does it say about me if I were to admit I’d fallen in love with a savage like you?”

Marcus’ lips pull into a wicked grin against mine. “It’d say that you’re no longer visiting the dark side, Shayne, you fucking own it.”

And with that, he fucks me all over again, making sure that with every damn thrust, I know that I’m his queen.

14

Levi’s drums sound from the other room, and I roll my eyes as my ass drops onto the big couch. It was a long drive back to the DeAngelis mansion, and while Marcus and Roman had plans to head back to the castle for a second load, Levi couldn’t wait to set up his drums. His fingers have been itching for it since we first ran Giovanni out of here.

Not being a great passenger and needing some down time, I opted to stay here with Levi and the wolves, knowing that I’ll be safe to finally spend some time by myself and just chill. It’s been way too long since I’ve been able to just do me.

A full bowl of popcorn and one of every soda in the house is lined up on the couch beside me. If I’m doing this, then I’m going to do it right.

Grabbing the remote, I turn on the TV and immediately boost the volume up to drown out the sound of Levi’s drumming. Don’t get me wrong, that forceful, intense drumming is the sound of my soul, but not on my movie night. I won’t be able to chill with that sound vibrating through the walls and reminding me just how good it can really be.

After crossing my legs under me and spreading a blanket over my body, I grab the bowl of popcorn and rest it in my lap. The first perfectly buttered piece sinks into my mouth as I flip through every last channel that Giovanni is paying for. I search through every streaming app until I finally find what I’m looking for—serial killer documentaries.

Now this is my jam.

I’ve watched these my whole life. Whenever my dad was out spending his night getting drunk and abusing the poor wait staff, I would watch documentaries until I heard his key forcing its way into the lock. Ten out of ten times he was drunk, and it’d take at least five minutes for him to get the front door open, giving me enough time to race to my bedroom and lock myself in there for the night. Most of the time, he was still passed out when I had to leave for school in the morning.

It was a perfect little system … until it wasn’t.

These documentaries, as fucked up as they are, remind me of my youth, the good times sitting on my couch all by myself. As bad as it sounds, being ten years old, home and alone with no food were the best nights of my childhood. It only went downhill from there. Not to mention, there’s nothing better than a fucked-up story. While these stories are dark and twisted in every way, they reminded me that life could have been worse. I was just a kid, sitting at home with a lock on the back of my bedroom door, while the victims in these documentaries were coming face to face with pure evil.

I find one about The Midnight Butcher and it stirs something within me. I hit play and make myself comfortable, popping another piece of popcorn into my mouth. The Midnight Butcher’s photo comes on the screen, and I recall a news story only a year or two ago about the guy. From memory, he lives in this state and was a real problem for a while, but the state is pretty fucking big, and from his victims’ locations, he wasn’t someone I had to worry about.

It’s way after nightfall. It’s been a long-ass day and I find myself smirking as the documentary goes on. This guy seems like a bit of an amateur. His kills are a little sloppy and wild. Roman would be disappointed and Marcus would just be embarrassed. Though it’s not like I’m one to judge. My kills have been a complete mess. Hell, today’s chainsaw experiment was a complete disaster, though I got the job done and managed to get a confession of love at the same time. I guess it was technically a success.

Shit, am I no better than the guys in these documentaries?

The glow of the TV lights up the room, and just as I watch an actor portraying the Butcher, stalking his latest victim, the couch dips beside me and the bowl of popcorn flies from my lap. “FUCK,” I screech as Doe plonks down on the couch beside me, her big head dropping into my lap where the popcorn once was.

My hand presses to my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my heart beneath as Dill comes hobbling into the room, a slight limp in his step. “Hey, buddy,” I say, watching as he makes his way to the spilled popcorn and starts cleaning up my mess.

My heart sinks watching him. He’s doing a million times better, but he’s still in so much pain. He definitely isn’t the same wolf I’ve come to know. My hand falls to Doe’s head and I scratch her behind the ears as Dill makes himself comfortable on the carpet, right under me, making sure that if I were to get up for a pee break, I’d trip over his humongous body.

Now that he’s not on the strong painkillers and he’s a lot more mobile, he’s been following me everywhere I go. He’s just as protective over me as I am of him, and I know it kills him that he’s not back at full strength. He’s not been able to run or chow down his food like he normally does, and while he’ll never express it, I know he’s still in so much pain. It kills me seeing him like this, but it won’t be long until he’s back to chatting up all those wolfy bitches he finds out in the wild. I bet this big bastard is a bit of a stud in the wolf world, and I can picture Doe so clearly, rolling her eyes in embarrassment at her big brother. Though, do we actually know that they’re siblings? Or is that something I’ve made up in my mind?

The documentary goes on as Doe sleeps in my lap. I get lost in the story, judging his every move, knowing the boys could have done so much better. They stalked me like fucking professionals through my apartment, and then again through the maze garden back at the castle.

Good times!

I hear the door of the internal garage and a smile settles over my lips realizing that Marcus and Roman are back. I can’t help but think of what Marcus said to me in the shower about Roman. I’m not blind, I know Roman feels something for me, but there’s no way what he feels for me comes even close to the intense relationship he shared with Felicity. Hell, they even had a child together, and he was ready to give her his name.

Marcus comes striding through to the massive theater room with Roman hot on his heels. I’m not surprised to see Levi following them in a moment after. Marcus drops his ass onto the armrest of my couch and picks up a stray piece of popcorn as he watches the documentary with furrowed brows.

Levi looks around the room at the mess I made when the wolves came in. “What the fuck happened here?” he asks, walking around the couch and leaning against the backrest behind my head.

“Ask these big assholes,” I mutter, indicating to the giant wolves.

I hear the soft fizz coming from Roman’s beer as he cracks the lid while Marcus continues staring at the screen, watching a reenactment of the Butcher’s final murder. “What the fuck are you watching?” he questions, his lips pulling up in disgust, seeing the shitty documentary special effects and movie editing. I can only imagine the thoughts rushing through his head, complete and utter judgment.

“It’s a serial killer documentary. Some guy they referred to as The Midnight Butcher,” I explain as another photo of the guy appears on the screen.

Marcus’ eyes widen in surprise as Levi laughs behind me. “No fucking way,” he says. “That’s Jake.”

My eyes bug out of my head and I whip around to face Levi. “What do you mean that’s Jake? Do you know this guy?”

“Yeah, of course I do,” he tells me, taking a beer from Roman. “We’re all tight around here. He’s not a bad guy, just misunderstood. You met him at the party we had at the castle. He was watching you all night.”

My eyes get impossibly wider. “WHAT?” I screech, waking Doe. “You invited this guy to your party?”

Marcus shrugs his shoulders, his lips pressed into a hard line. “Why not? We invited heaps of our friends,” he says in a dull tone, something else clearly on his mind. “We had to reel him in a bit. He was watching you a little too hard. If we hadn’t stepped in, he would have made a name for himself all over again.”

I shake my head, still unable to believe it. “No, that’s not right,” I say, specifically remembering the part of the documentary that said the FBI caught the dude and locked him up. “He was arrested two years ago.”

“Yeah,” Roman laughs. “Just like we were arrested last month. The FBI likes to talk themselves up when it counts, but I bet you don’t hear the stories of how they let their targets slip right through their fingers.”

“No shit,” I breathe, refusing to acknowledge Marcus’ comments about what Jake wanted to do to me during the party. I’ve already got the attention of three crazed psychopathic serial killers; I don’t need any more to watch out for. Besides, there’s no guarantee that the next one is going to fall for my charm like these guys have.

Marcus lets out a frustrated sigh and fumes at the TV. “How the hell did Jake get a documentary? I mean … where the fuck is my documentary? I’ve made much more exciting kills than that guy. These are all the same. They’re boring. Now me? I’m a fucking star. I deserve to be on that screen, plus have you ever seen me on camera? I’m photogenic as fuck. That’d be the best goddamn documentary anyone had ever seen.”

A smirk settles across my face, and just as I go to suggest he pay a producer a little visit, Doe’s ears stand high under my hand. I glance down at her as a low growl rumbles through her chest. She shakes off my hand and sits up as Dill makes a similar sound deep in his chest.

A silence sounds through the theater room as Marcus takes the remote out of my hand and shuts off the TV, all three of the boys listening intently. “What is it?” I question, my heart kicking into gear. We’ve already dealt with one intruder at the castle today, I don’t think I can handle another. I need at least a week before I get to call on that darkness inside my soul again.

“Shhhhh,” Roman says, holding up a hand and looking to his brothers. “You hear that?”

I strain to listen as Doe growls again, the rumble making the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. I hear nothing, but after a short pause, the familiar sound of tires on the driveway breaks through the silence. “Someone’s here,” I gasp, my eyes going wide.

Levi nods and reaches over the couch, taking my hand and forcing me to my feet as the four of us make our way out of the theater room. The wolves race in front of us, Dill doing his best to keep up with Doe. “I can only make out one car,” Levi says, glancing over his shoulder at Roman who nods.

We make our way out to the big foyer when the boys discreetly move in front of the window overlooking the front yard. “Black town car,” Marcus says, standing exactly in the space I’d been in only a week ago when we’d run Giovanni out of here.

“Could be anyone,” Roman says, moving in beside me and pressing a gun into my hand. I take it greedily, but just like every other time I’ve held a gun in my hand, I feel uncomfortable and laughably under prepared despite the few lessons the guys have given me.

I move in beside Marcus and watch the black car coming down the drive. He positions himself in front of me, being his overprotective self. I can’t say that I hate it. After the week I’ve had, a little protection detail won’t go astray.

The car pulls to a stop in front of the big obnoxious water fountain, and the boys wait impatiently, watching as the car door swings open and an expensive set of shoes hits the driveway. The thought trickles through my mind that any threat wouldn’t be stopping in the middle of the drive like this, they’d be hidden away and sneaking onto the property, most likely through the woods out back, the very woods where I was taken by Giovanni. But then again, the majority of this dark world has no idea that Giovanni has been chased out of town. They assume he’s still here sitting up on his throne and shitting all over the people he claims to rule, and while this visitor may not be an enemy of Giovanni’s, it’s very possible that they have a vendetta against his three devilish sons.

A suited man finally appears at the bottom of the drive and Marcus blows out a breath of relief as I notice how similar he looks to Giovanni. “It’s Louis,” Marcus says, glancing over at Roman and Levi who are busy preparing themselves for some kind of shootout.

The boys instantly relax, shoving guns into the waistband of their pants as I glance up at Marcus. “Which one is Louis again?”

“My father’s youngest brother, Ronaldo’s father.”

My brows arch, fear pounding in my chest. “Ronaldo,” I repeat. “The one who Victor killed in retaliation for his son’s murder?” I question, remembering the exact moment Levi shot Antonio’s tongue off and Marcus requested we bring it home in a doggy box for his vast trophy collection. Ronaldo, the boys’ cousin, was set up to take the fall and Antonio’s father was quick to retaliate by taking Ronaldo’s life, effectively setting off a carefully planned out war.

Marcus nods and I let out a shaky breath, glancing back at Roman. “What does he want?”

Roman’s dark, broody eyes are narrowed, deep in thought as he slowly shakes his head. “I’ve got no fucking idea,” he says as their uncle makes his way up the grand stairs. “But we’re about to find out.”

The boys form a wide semi-circle around the front door, covering all their bases as I keep myself carefully placed behind Marcus’ shoulder, protected at all costs.

The door slowly opens and fear pounds through my chest. Louis is a senior member of the DeAngelis family; I don’t doubt that he knows how to protect himself. The boys would have learned everything they know from men like Louis. I refuse to go into this unprotected, even if the likelihood of this turning into something bigger is near zero.

Louis pushes past the door and comes to an immediate stop, seeing the most brutal of his nephews waiting to greet him. “Uncle,” Roman says, taking point. “Is there something we can do for you?”

Louis takes a moment to compose himself, definitely not having expected to see the three infamous killers hovering by the door as a welcome party. He raises his chin, wanting to take control of the conversation as he glances between his nephews, but he should know better than that. He lost any form of control he may have had over this family the moment the brothers stepped into the prime position. “Where is your father?” he demands. “I need to meet with him about an urgent matter.”

Roman takes a step forward and his impressive height towers over his uncle, even from across the foyer. “My father is … unavailable.”

Louis pauses, a flicker of nervousness glistening in his eyes. “What have you done?” he says, immediately catching on as he takes a discreet step back toward the door, more than ready to haul ass if he needs to. It’s not odd for the boys to have been here. They were invited regularly for meetings and dinners, but having them here without warning definitely isn’t the norm, and he’s right to be nervous.

“My father was getting a little too comfortable in his role, don’t you think?” Roman questions, the tone of his voice sending a shiver trailing down my spine.

“I’m not here for your games,” Louis says. “Where’s your father?”

“That’s just the thing,” Levi says. “Nobody knows. We ran him out of here over a week ago, and since then, he’s been nothing but a ghost.”

“Ran him out of here?” Louis repeats with a heavy suspicion in his tone, silently putting all the pieces of the puzzle together, but judging by the confusion flashing in his dark eyes, he’s putting them together wrong. “Tell me now, did you kill my brother?”

“If only,” Roman breathes. “Bastard got away before we got a chance, but don’t be fooled, we will end his life the second his miserable ass steps out of hiding.”

Louis raises a brow, clearly deep in thought. There’s no question about it, he’s tossing up his loyalties, trying to figure out which path will get him killed quickest and which will save him. He should know better than that, in this world, there are no guarantees. “Okay,” he says slowly, his gaze flicking between the three of them, making sure no one makes any sudden movements. “Let me ask you this. Did you three have anything to do with my son’s death?”

Roman shakes his head. “I believe you’ve shown up on the wrong brother’s doorstep if you’ve come searching for answers.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louis roars. “What do you know of this?”

Marcus lets out a heavy breath, a smirk resting over his lips as he takes a step toward his uncle. “Tsk, tsk,” he starts. “Did your big brother not inform you of what happened to your only son, his youngest nephew?”

Louis snaps his glare to Marcus, and for a moment, I fear for his safety, but he’s not stupid enough to make a move like that with his current company. “What do you know, boy?” he spits. “I want answers now. I will not grovel or beg for the likes of you three. Tell me what you know, now.”

Roman pulls the gun from his waistband and steps into his uncle, pressing the barrel to his temple and hastily shutting him up. “I wonder if you would grovel and beg now?” Roman mutters. “What about when our father finally takes his last breath and we rule over this family? Would you grovel then?”

Louis glares at Roman, and I don’t doubt that this is his first time in this position, though it would definitely be a first time facing off against a man as unpredictable as Roman. “There ain’t no killing your father. He’s a slippery motherfucker, always has been. You may have run him off for now and are up here in his home playing happy family, but he will prevail. That bastard always does. Do not fool yourself, boy. He will come back with a vengeance.”

“I assume that means your loyalties lie with him.”

“My loyalties lie with the head of this family, and until you can bring me proof of death, that position will remain your father’s. Now tell me what you know of my son’s death.”

Roman slowly pulls back on the safety, releasing it with a soft click that sounds louder than a gunshot in this room. “And what if I told you that my father has known who killed your son since the moment it happened? Hell, he knew it was happening before Ronaldo did, yet he did nothing to prevent it when one word from him could have ended the whole thing. What would you say then?”

Louis’ eyes flash with a heated anger that sends waves of guilt soaring through me. This is all on our shoulders. We started this war, we killed Antonio to use as bait, and in return, he lost his only son and is left without answers. But that’s just the world these boys live in, and Louis is more than aware of that. If he wanted to protect his son from the dangers of Mafia life, he should have kept himself away just as Giovanni’s other brother, Joseph, does. Though, from what the boys have told me, Louis is a dangerous man. For the most part, he’s cool, calm, and collected, but if you push him enough, he’ll burn the whole family to the ground.

“You’re a liar, Roman DeAngelis. You always have been. You forget that I have known you since you were born into this family,” Louis says, his eyes sharp and filled with venom. The way Roman is skirting around his son’s death clearly has his feathers ruffled the wrong way. “You claim to be a man of your word, yet I haven’t heard a snippet of truth being told since I walked through that door. You are not fit to rule in your father’s place. You play games and enjoy destruction. Now, tell me what I’ve come all this way to know.”

Roman stands in silence for a long moment, the tension growing thicker by the second as Louis attempts to hold some kind of dominance over Roman, though it’s not possible. Roman was born for this and watching him now, it’s as clear as day. “I’ll tell you what you wish to know, once you tell me what I need to know.”

Louis’ brows furrow and he pulls back, watching Roman with uncertainty. “There is nothing that I know that could possibly benefit you.”

“When was the last time you spoke to my father?”

Louis shakes his head, deep in thought. “I don’t know, weeks ago. We spoke briefly at the last business dinner. I told him he was a fool for allowing you three a week of freedom. He should have kept you locked up in that big castle. How is this important?”

Roman clenches his jaw. “My father killed my fiancé and took my newborn son,” he spits, that word fiancé killing something deep inside of me. “If you know where he would go, then you need to tell me right now.”

Louis shakes his head. “You’re a smart man, Roman. I see how you watch everyone, learn of their relationships so that you can exploit them later. You know just as well as I do that I don’t know the answer to that question. You want to find your father and your son, then you need to speak with Victor. Wait too long, and you know the likelihood of finding that baby alive just as well as I do.”

Roman narrows his eyes, holding Louis’ stare a moment longer, the anger burning brightly within him as the fear of what could happen to his child haunts his every thought. “You want to learn what happened to your son, then I suggest you take the same course of action and seek out Victor.”

Louis glances toward me and Marcus before flicking his gaze in the opposite direction to Levi. He meets Roman in the middle. “Why on earth would I need to speak to Victor? What does he have to do with this?”

“You search for answers on your son’s death, so perhaps start with the man who killed him.”

Louis’ face falls and he shakes his head. “What are you saying? Victor killed my only son? No, he wouldn’t do that. You’re lying.”

“Suit yourself,” Roman tells him. “I’ve told you what you’ve come to know. If you choose not to believe me, then that is your own problem. Victor killed Ronaldo in retaliation, and your precious son slaughtered Antonio when he caught him balls deep inside his wife.”

Louis clenches his jaw and takes a step back, rage burning through his eyes, though the rage is not focused on his nephews. I have no doubt that he will be going after Victor. He meets Roman’s stare again before giving him a sharp nod. “I will see myself out.”

Silence consumes us, and not a moment later, Louis is gone and flying down the grand steps.

The heavy thud of the door sounds through the foyer, and the second we’re alone, Roman breaks, the fears for his lost son playing on his mind, getting worse with every passing second. “FUCK,” he roars, dropping the gun and diving for the massive crystal vase across the foyer. He grabs it and throws it hard, letting it smash into a million shattered pieces against the expensive marble floor.

Crystal shards spread far and wide as Roman’s hands fly to his head. His fingers dig in and I can only imagine what kind of bullshit is going through his head right now. He paces the foyer for a short moment before Levi steps toward him. “Roman …” he starts, ready to help him in any way he needs, but without a backward glance, Roman takes off deeper into the mansion, his pain tearing my heart in two.

15

My fist slams into Levi’s chest with a heavy punch that sends a wave of pain searing up my arm. “Fuck,” I grunt, shaking out my hand as Levi just stands there, completely unaffected by my hit.

He looks down at me with wide eyes as though only just realizing I tried to take his ass out. “Shit, little one. Are you alright?” he questions, taking my hand and looking it over to make sure I haven’t done any damage.

I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “This training session is a bust,” I tell him. “Roman is passed out drunk, Marcus is too distracted doing who the hell knows what, and you’re too lost inside your freaking head to pay attention. What’s going on?”

His lips pull into a crooked grin that makes something swell inside my chest. “Did that bastard really tell you that he was in love with you?”

My brows furrow as I look up at him. “You were there. You heard him say it.”

Deciding my hand is fine, he tugs against it and draws me into his chest. “I know, but did he mean it? There’s a big fucking difference between getting hot and talking shit while watching your woman chainsaw some asshole in half and sincerely telling her that she’s the one. Which one was it?”

Tilting my head up, I grin back at him, my eyes glistening with mischief. “My, oh my, Levi DeAngelis. You sound jealous.”

His eyes sparkle right back at me, and I get just a moment’s notice before his foot sweeps out behind me and pushes me back, sending me sprawling straight onto my back. He comes down with me, his arms caging around my body and taking the brunt of our fall. “Baby, I don’t get jealous.”

I laugh and push on his shoulder, forcing him to roll, though I have absolutely no strength to make him actually do it. I’m just lucky that he takes pity on me and allows me to play my game. He rolls, bringing me with him, not stopping until I’m straddled over his hips and can feel his erection through his workout shorts pressing up against my core and making my mouth water. “You don’t get jealous, huh?” I muse. “What if I told you that he made me promise that I was only his? That this pussy was exclusively his?” I question, rocking my hips over his and feeling his cock flinch.

Levi grabs the front of my workout crop and pulls me down to him, catching me around the waist. “I’d say you’re a tease playing a dirty game,” he warns me, fire burning in his obsidian eyes. “That fucker wouldn’t dare take you away from me, not if he values his life.”

“You’re right,” I mutter, my lips brushing against his. “He does value his life, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t at least try.”

Levi shakes his head and lets out a frustrated breath before his eyes soften. “Give it to me straight, Shayne. Did he mean it?”

I nod, the memory of Marcus’ raw honesty playing over in my head. “He meant it.”

“Fuck, and here I thought that I’d be the first.”

My brow arches high and I press up against his chest, needing to see his eyes clearly. “What are you saying?” I breathe, my heart kicking into gear and beating a shitload faster than what it had during that whole training session.

Levi sits up and takes me with him, holding me tight as he gets comfortable and leans back onto his hands, keeping his dark eyes locked on mine. “I don’t know if you noticed this, babe, but I’ve been fucking crazy about you since you tried to throw yourself off the roof of the castle, then demanded I fuck you right then and there.”

My pussy clenches at the sheer memory of that night, hanging off the side of the roof while this beast of a man slammed into me from behind. It was a fucking crazy night and one of my absolute favorites since being here … you know, apart from the part where Giovanni showed up, put shock collars around his sons’ necks and ordered me to choose which one of them should die.

“What can I say?” I question with a flirty smirk. “I like to live on the wild side. It’s not my fault you guys are searching for a batshit crazy girl to match your insane psychological issues.”

His lips press into a hard line, feigning irritation, but the small tick in the corner of his mouth gives him away. He fucking loves my smart mouth and he knows it. Hell, they all do. His arm curls around my waist and pulls me in before his lips crush down on mine. He kisses me deeply, his tongue sweeping into mine with a fierce determination, and I can’t help but feel as though he’s trying to make me forget that anybody else has been there. “You’re trouble,” he tells me as he pulls back just an inch, leaving barely a breath between us.

“You love it when I’m trouble,” I murmur. “If I were boring, you would have fucked me off a long time ago. You, Levi DeAngelis, love a girl who challenges you. You love it when I push your buttons and snap back at you with a feisty attitude. It makes you want to spank my ass, and I don’t think you’ve met a girl who makes you feel that way in a very long time.”

He nods, his eyes softening as his fingers brush down the side of my face, pushing my hair back behind my ear. “You’re right,” he tells me. “Most girls are terrified of us. They shit their pants at just the sound of our name on somebody else’s lips. That makes it very hard to get close to anyone, but you stuck with it. I’m standoffish at the best of times, but you persisted. You broke down my walls and pushed your little bratty way in, even after the hell I put you through when Marc got shot. You should have turned me away, you should have punished me for that, but you let me back in. I don’t deserve you, Shayne.”

I shrug my shoulders. “That first time you came into my cell and told me to get dressed for dinner, I knew I was going to have you. I wanted to break you. You were so tough and so sure of yourself that I wanted to make you second guess. I wanted to make you hate yourself for hurting me, and I think in doing that, I made you care, but I made me care too, and I never expected that I would feel something so deep for you. You’re making me love you and a part of me hates that. You three kidnapped me, you hurt me in the most brutal ways and turned me into this stone-cold killer, you made me a stranger to the girl I used to be, and yet I keep coming back for more. Is there something wrong with me?”

A smirk cuts across his warm lips and I know exactly what’s going to come out of his mouth before he even says it. “Fuck yeah, babe. You’re more fucked in the head than we are.”

I roll my eyes and shove his shoulder, making him fall back and catch himself on his hand. “You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re a brat,” he fires back. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t know when, and I sure as fuck don’t know how, but you made me fall in love with you, Shayne, and it honestly scares the shit out of me because I’m still waiting for you to realize that we’re no good for you. You’re going to get up and leave at some point, and it’s going to fucking kill me.”

My hand falls to his chest, and I feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath, knowing that it has absolutely everything to do with me. Meeting his eyes, I stare deep into them, tearing back the layers of my walls and letting him see the true, vulnerable me who lives inside. “That’s not going to happen,” I whisper, feeling his fingers tighten on my waist. “You and Marcus, hell maybe even Roman too … you’ve all opened my eyes to this insane, dark world that scares the shit out of me. It’s raw and terrifying, but I want to be here because being here means that I get to have you, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I’d rather die than have to live another day without you all,” I tell him. “Sitting down in that cell in the desert, I started thinking that maybe I was never going to see you again and the very thought of it broke me. I know you didn’t intend on this happening, and I sure as hell didn’t either, but you’ve forced your way in, despite this crazy, intense world, and made me fall for you, and I’m never going to give you back. Your heart is mine whether you like it or not. No refunds. No exchange. It’s a done deal.”

“Are you sure about that?” he questions. “Because if you’re just fucking with me to get me back for kidnapping and torturing you, I’m going to be fucking pissed and every cell inside me is going to tell me to fuck you up but I’m not going to be able to do it.”

I lean in and press the softest kiss to his delicious lips. “You can’t fake something like this,” I whisper. “I know you feel it just like I do.”

A soft smile pulls at his lips as he curls his arm around my waist, dropping me back to the hard floor of the training room once again. “Like I said,” he murmurs, his dark, intense eyes boring into mine. “You’re going to be trouble.”

“Damn straight, I am,” I grin. “But trouble is fun, and you’re a sucker for a good time.”

“I’m a fucking sucker for you.”

His lips crush down on mine, completely devouring me and leaving no room for argument. Our tongues battle for dominance, and despite knowing that his stubborn nature will force him to keep going until he wins, I don’t possibly give in, not yet at least.

His hand slides up my torso and slips under the fabric of my crop before pulling it over my head, forcing our kiss to break apart. “Jesus,” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “What the hell are we going to tell the grandchildren when they ask how we met?”

Levi laughs, his breath brushing over my lips. “We tell them the truth.”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh as his lips drop back to my neck. “And what’s that?”

“That I have a weakness for women in chains and lingerie and you like to make deals with devils and the two just sorta … meshed together, and the rest was history.”

“Really?” I question. “And here I thought it had something to do with a broody asshole who kidnapped me right out of my apartment, though I could be thinking of the million other men who have kidnapped me over the past few months. It’s a little hard to keep track.”

His hand skims up my body until his fingers are lightly curled around my throat. He gives a gentle squeeze as his lips pull into a wicked smirk. “Don’t you dare confuse our first night together with those amateur attempts by other men. That night is special to me.”

“Oh, I bet it is,” I tease, remembering that night perfectly, and more specifically how this asshole had hidden in my closet, watching me get myself off … well, attempt to get myself off, seeing as though Tarzan decided to burst into flames and tried to torch my coochie. I lift up just enough to brush my lips over his, more than aware of how my movement has his fingers tightening around my throat. “Tell me, which part of it specifically got you hard? Watching me get myself off while you spied on me through my closet door, or stalking me through the halls?”

A low growl sounds through his throat as he grinds his hardening cock against my core, my questions making his eyes sparkle like some kind of devil. “You know what really gets me hard?” he questions, releasing my throat and skipping his fingers right down my body until he’s cupping my pussy. “Watching your tight cunt squeezing my cock like it will never let it go.”

A thrill pulses through me and I capture his lips again in mine. “Really?” I breathe. “I can’t say that I know what you’re talking about. You’ll have to show me what you mean.”

Hunger tears through his gaze, and within seconds, he’s on his feet with his strong fingers curled around my ankle. He gives me a hard tug and I slide across the training room floor like a hockey puck on ice.

Levi spins me, whipping me around until I face the mirrored wall at the back of the room. He drops down behind me and spreads my legs wide, watching me through the big mirror as my pussy clenches in anticipation.

He reaches behind himself, and in the next moment, I see a sharp blade glistening in the light of the room. His eyes bore into mine through the mirror, and the longer he holds my stare, the more fidgety I become. Fuck, he’s going to make me come before he’s even touched me.

His arms curl around me and he grips onto the tight fabric of my workout tights before effortlessly tearing straight through them with the blade. The material falls from my legs, and he doesn’t hesitate to do the same to my black, lace underwear. I’m not going to lie, I’m a little disappointed that he didn’t just tear them off with his teeth. Beggars can’t be choosers though.

Wanting me to have an unobstructed view of my pussy through the mirror, he lifts me just slightly and yanks the torn material out from under my ass. The moment it’s gone, I see her—my pussy, glistening with my arousal in all her naked, bare glory.

I clench, and damn it, the grin that pulls at his lips is enough to cripple me. “See how fucking stunning you are?” he tells me, flipping the blade over in his hand, letting the sharp tip dig into his palm as he presses the curved handle to my collarbone.

My eyes zero in on his movements, breathing heavily as he trails the smooth handle across my body. It slips down between my tits going just slow enough to drive me wild with need. My pussy throbs and pulses with anticipation, and if he doesn’t cut the shit and touch me soon, I’ll have to do it myself.

Levi tsks me, shaking his head as he captures my stare through the mirror. “Patience,” he warns, slowly trailing the knife down past my ribs, making me suck in a gasp as the subtle touch sends a wave of goosebumps over my skin.

I watch him closely, completely mesmerized with his every move as he goes further and further south, until finally, the smooth, cold handle brushes over my exposed clit. My body jolts and I gasp, not having expected to feel quite so sensitive.

He goes again, this time a little firmer as he rubs the slick handle in tight circles. “Oh, fuck,” I breathe, reaching up behind me and curling my hand around the back of his neck. What is it about watching that makes it so much more intense?

He dips the handle lower, mixing with my arousal and I hold my breath in anticipation, watching as he slowly pushes the handle deep inside my core. My fingers knot into the back of his hair, squeezing tight as my pussy contracts, feeling the coolness of the handle as it rubs against my walls.

Levi slowly draws it back out of me and the handle glistens with my arousal. “This,” he murmurs, dropping his lips to my neck while still watching me through the mirror, “is what I see.”

My breath comes faster, my need for more burning so hot inside of me that I can’t pull myself together long enough to form any type of response, so instead, I just watch, the hunger in my eyes telling him exactly what he needs to know.

“See the way your cunt squeezes around it?” he murmurs, his breath brushing across my skin like a gentle caress as he pushes the handle back inside and curls his other arm around me, capturing my clit between his fingers. I gasp, my body jolting and clenching. “The way you try to hold it there as though you can’t bear the thought of me pulling it out? The way your body reacts to my every touch? That’s what gets me hard.”

A soft groan tears from deep in my chest and I watch him push deep inside of me again, his hand smearing with blood from the tip of the blade, but in all seriousness, he probably has absolutely no idea … or even gives a shit.

Intense pleasure fills my every cell, rushing through me like a wave of satisfaction. I can’t help but reach up and skim my fingers over my breasts, tilting my head back onto his shoulder, not once removing my gaze from my reflection.

I’ve never seen myself like this, so spread wide and open while being touched. I look like a crazed vixen and I fucking love every damn second of it. My body jolts and wriggles under his skillful touch as my groans, moans, and cries get louder and more intense.

I grip my tit, pinching down on my nipple as he fucks me just a little faster, his thrusts becoming wilder and more determined, watching as I come undone beneath him. My body spasms and the familiar burn deep inside of me takes control and spreads through my veins like wildfire. “OH FUCK,” I cry, my orgasm tearing through me.

My pussy convulses, my walls squeezing around the handle as Levi’s fingers continue working my clit. I’m in a world of fucking pleasure, and I don’t know how to handle it. My body completely comes apart, every inch of me burning with the most intense satisfaction.

My orgasm gets more intense by the second, and I gasp out when Levi tears his hand away from my clit. He presses in behind my back and snakes his arm around my waist, lifting me up.

He slides in beneath me, keeping my legs spread, and as my pussy throbs and pulses, he tears the handle out of me, tosses it aside, and slams me down over his bulging cock. “Awwwwwww, fuck,” I groan, the orgasm too much, too intense.

My fingers thread between his on my hips as he slams up into me, fucking me with everything that he’s got, groaning with the way my pussy clenches and spasms around him. My orgasm refuses to ease, the intensity forcing tears to my eyes. “FUCK. YES. YES,” I cry, fisting my hands around his and squeezing tight.

He watches me through the mirror, his gaze locked on the way his cock moves in and out of me, and damn it, I’ve never seen anything so erotic in my life.

His cock looks like a fucking monster from this position, and I can’t tear my eyes off it, watching as it comes out coated in my arousal. It even feels like a fucking monster. His jaw clenches and the concentration on his face tells me that he’s close, determined to come with me before my orgasm begins to ease, and damn it, that’s exactly what he does.

I watch as he slams up into me one more time, coming hard and spurting his hot seed deep inside me with a loud groan. As my orgasm reaches its climax, he tightens his hold on my hips and lets his forehead fall to my shoulder in a struggle to catch his breath.

We both come down from our high, completely shattered and gasping for air. We don’t dare move, and I find myself still physically unable to tear my gaze away from the sight of his thick, burly cock buried deep inside my cunt. It’s the most stunning sight I’ve ever seen. “You can fuck me like that any time you want,” I breathe, my pants coming in hard and fast.

Levi relaxes his hold on my hip and slowly trails his arm around my waist, holding me to him as I can barely keep myself up. His fingers trail soft patterns over my skin, and he meets my gaze through the mirror before dropping a feather soft kiss to my shoulder. “You see now why I like to watch?”

Biting down on my lip, I slowly nod, my eyelids dropping to a lustful stare. “I do,” I tell him as a shy smile twists across my lips. “Could we … do it again?”

Levi’s eyes blaze like molten lava and the responding grin that tears across his face is like waking up on Christmas morning. “For you,” he tells me. “Anything.”

16

The big SUV pulls to a stop outside of the dodgy, boarded-up house, and a shiver runs down my spine. The last time I was here, it went pretty smoothly, but I didn’t like it. The boys threw me in the deep end when dealing with their newest dealer. He was like a teacher’s pet, striving for a gold star, but despite what he allowed us to see on the surface, he was still shady as fuck. The home was a cloud of smoke and the all too familiar stench of a decaying body was coming from somewhere deep inside the house. Though, at the time I didn’t recognize the smell, now … things are different.

I find myself hanging back, watching as Levi and Marcus both slip out of the car, but when Roman goes to make his move, I reach through to the front and take his elbow. “Wait,” I rush out, meeting his eyes as he turns back to look at me.

His brows furrow, watching me with caution, and I know that this isn’t going to go as planned. Hell, there is no plan. I’m making it up as I go, but I’ve come to learn that where Roman DeAngelis is concerned, you can’t have a plan because he will usually shit all over it.

He holds my stare for a moment and my heart breaks, just like every other time he’s looked upon me over the last few days. Before he can decide that he doesn’t want to be here, I climb into the front and straddle his waist, placing my knees on either side of his strong thighs and try not to be so obvious about the excitement I feel when he places his hands at my hips.

“What do you want, Empress?” he says, his tone flat and impatient, though I’ve been around long enough to learn that he only calls me that when he’s feeling particularly fond of me.

Leaning into him, I curl my arm around his neck and hold him to me, loving the way he reciprocates and holds me close to his chest, his arms circling my back as his fingers weave up into my hair. “Are you okay?” I murmur, turning my face in toward his, though this angle makes it far too hard to see his eyes.

His body goes taut beneath me, and I know what’s coming before the words have even left his mouth. “What are you doing?” he growls, knowing damn well that I will push and push until I break through his walls, tearing him down bit by bit each day.

“I’m checking in, Roman,” I whisper, all too aware of his brothers standing outside the car, wondering what the fuck is keeping us. “That visit from your uncle … it’s been weighing on your mind, and don’t try to tell me it hasn’t. You haven’t said anything since he left two days ago. You spent most of yesterday drunk and in a rage, and today … I don’t know. Today you’re off, and I hate seeing you like this.”

Roman shakes his head and drops his hands to my waist, forcing me back to meet my eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, his eyes hardening.

“Don’t,” I growl, my hand moving to cup the side of his face, forcing him to keep holding my stare. “Don’t shut me out. You’re hurting and I want to help you.”

“That’s just the thing, Shayne. There is no helping me.”

Leaning into him again, I brush my lips over his, melting at the way his move against mine. “You’re wrong about that,” I murmur. “You just need to let me in.”

Feeling his body tense beneath me again, I pull back and go to push my way out of the car before he gets the chance to tell me exactly what he thinks, but he catches my arm and holds me back. “You don’t know what you’re asking of me,” he finally tells me as I settle back onto his lap. “I’m not like my brothers. I don’t easily forgive, and I sure as fuck don’t forget. I live in a much darker world than they do, and to let you in would be to end you. You’re too good for this, Shayne. You may think you can handle these bullshit drug deals and the occasional bullet through the head, but this world will wear you down and kill you. If you were smart, you’d cut and run at the first chance you got. Stop trying to force this.”

I shake my head. “I can’t do that,” I tell him, placing my hand on his chest to feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath. “Not when you’ve already forced your way in.”

He swallows hard and I see the pain in his eyes. “That was a mistake.”

Gently pressing my lips to his again, I kiss him deeper, feeling something so damn right settling inside of me. His tongue moves with mine as his fingers soften on my waist, both of us finally coming home.

Not wanting to push my luck, I pull back from him, hating the feel of my lips being away from his. “You may be able to lie to yourself, Roman DeAngelis,” I murmur, curling my fingers around the door handle and gently pulling the lever. “But you can’t lie to me.”

With that, I push my way out of the car and come face to face with Marcus and Levi, who both watch me through narrowed gazes. “What was that all about?” Marcus questions, the jealousy sneaking up on him despite already knowing damn well how I feel about his brother. He already gave me the green light to pursue something with Roman if it felt right, and I’m in too deep to reconsider.

I push past them and make my way to the dilapidated fence surrounding the property, pulling the rusty gate open and following the sidewalk to the front door.

There are brown stains coating the concrete that look a lot like dried blood, and I shake my head dismissively. I’m no stranger to bloodshed, at least not anymore.

If I’ve learned anything from the boys, it’s that there is always someone watching, someone waiting for you to fuck up. Dried blood on your doorstep is an amateur move.

I hear Roman getting out of the car behind us and quickly making his way through the gate. I don’t bother looking back because I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle the rejection I see in his eyes. He’s definitely not ready to explore whatever this thing is between us, though I know he wants to. That’s not what that was all about anyway. He’s hurting in a way that none of us can relate to. His son is missing and that’s bound to play on his mind every moment of every day, and I hate that for him. He’s sinking further and further into the darkness, and I want nothing more than to pull him back out. He’s reckless and emotional, and that kind of mix isn’t going to get us anywhere.

Coming to a stop at the door, I glance back at Marcus and Levi, making sure they’re ready, and with a firm nod from Levi, I reach for the door handle and twist.

I expect to see a cloud of smoke and a bunch of losers high on the couch, but the place is clear. Hell, it even looks as though someone hit it with a spit shine. There’s no rotting flesh stench, no blood splatters across the wall, not even the loud metal music we’d heard the first time we came through here.

My brows furrow, and as I slowly creep into the boarded-up home, I see Marcus from the corner of my eye, slipping his gun from the waistband of his pants.

“I don’t like this,” I murmur, my eyes scanning the room, searching for some kind of threat. I mean, damn. If Marcus feels that something is off, then I should be running for the fucking hills.

My heart thuds wildly in my chest, feeling way out of my league. It’s one thing to see my target in front of me and have time to come up with a plan, but these spontaneous moments where I have to be completely ready scare the shit out of me. No amount of training could help me to keep up with the boys during a shootout. I’d be the first casualty.

Without another word, Levi pushes himself in front of me, taking the lead as he makes his way through the property. We go room by room, listening intently. The boys don’t make a damn sound on the old rickety floorboards, and it has chills sailing down my spine. They really are the boogeymen sneaking around your home at night.

We come out into the main living room and kitchen, right where we’d been last time, and it’s a stark contrast to the rest of the house. It’s a fucking mess. There are scuff marks across the floor, pills spread far and wide, and piles of scattered money as though someone could only carry so much as they desperately tried to flee.

“Fuck,” Marcus spits, shoving his gun back into his pants and looking around. “The place has been cleared out. The fucker is gone.”

Roman slowly turns, surveying the room with a trained eye. “No,” he says, “It’s been ransacked. Our dealer didn’t do this, though I bet he bitched out, too fucking scared to face us. He’d rather cut and run,” Roman adds, turning his gaze toward me with a meaningful stare. “Guess he knows what’s good for him.”

Narrowing my gaze on the asshole, I avoid flipping him off before I circle the room and pick up a discarded pill. “Do you think he’s dead?” I ask.

Levi shakes his head. “No, but he sure as fuck won’t be coming back here any time soon.”

“Shit,” I mutter, tossing the pill back to the ground and turning toward the boys. “So, what do we do now?”

“Now,” Marcus says, a grin splitting his face in two as Roman’s phone chimes with an incoming text. “We get to have a little fun.”

Amusement brews deep in my chest as I stride toward him, my eyes glistening with silent laughter as Roman digs his phone out of his pocket. “Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be the best game of hide and seek that I’ve ever had?”

“Just you wait,” Marcus says, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me in before dropping his lips to mine. “You’re on our team now and we play by our own rules.”

I can’t help but laugh as he adjusts his hold on me, slinging his arm over my shoulder as we make our way back out of the empty property. Levi follows us out and we get a few steps before I look back over my shoulder and find Roman hanging back in the kitchen, his fist clenching so tightly around his phone that I fear for its glass screen.

“Wait,” I murmur, pulling out from under Marcus’ arm before doubling back.

The boys stare after me as I rush back toward Roman, our earlier conversation completely pushed aside. Seeing the look on their eldest brother’s face, Levi and Marcus trail back as well. Soon enough, I’m standing before him, my hand on his arm as I meet his horrified stare. “What is it?” I question in desperation, my gaze dropping to his screen to catch the end of a video that gives me absolutely nothing.

Marcus presses his wide chest behind my shoulder, reaching around me and taking the phone out of Roman’s hand. Turning it around to face us better, his thumb pushes the scrollbar of the video back to the beginning and he hits play. I immediately suck in a loud gasp, my hand gripping Roman’s and squeezing it tight.

“Fucking hell,” Levi mutters, watching over Marcus’ shoulder to see the video of Roman’s newborn son sleeping peacefully in his bassinet.

Horror washes over me as the video plays. At first, it seems innocent until a knife cuts into the image, dropping down beside the baby’s face and plunging deep into the soft mattress. He sleeps on, completely unaware of the horrors happening around him, and just how much danger he is in.

Tears spring to my eyes as Marcus’ hand drops to my shoulder, squeezing it tight, silently letting me know that it’s going to be okay.

The camera turns, and in the very next frame, Giovanni’s face appears. A sick grin pulls at his lips and as bile rises in my throat, the screen goes black.

“No,” I rush out, grabbing the phone out of Marcus’ hand and playing it back again, Roman silently watching it over my shoulder as the deepest kind of rage builds within him. “What … what … NO!”

My tears fall, splashing against the phone. I hastily wipe them away as my desperation gets the best of me. Glancing up at Roman, I see the same fears reflected in his eyes that resonates deep inside my chest. “What are we supposed to do?” I cry. “He’s going to hurt him. He’s too little for this, too innocent. We have to get him back.”

Roman swallows, silently holding my terrified gaze, at a complete loss, just like me. He’s spent days on end searching out his father and has gotten absolutely nowhere. The man is a ghost and not one of us has any idea how to draw him out and put an end to this nightmare.

Levi takes the phone out of my hand, his brows furrowed as he starts the video again. “Look here,” he says, pausing the video on the baby’s face and pointing to the side of the screen where the bassinet ends. “There’s something familiar about those floors.”

Marcus tears the phone out of his hand and zooms in, his brows furrowed as he looks over the image. “It could be anything. A million homes would have polished floors like that.”

“It’s too dark,” I tell them, trying to see what they’re seeing and getting nothing. “It’s impossible to make it out.”

“But look,” Levi insists, snatching the phone and shoving it into Roman’s face, his determination sending a wave of hope coursing through me. “They’re your fucking floors. That polished marble with the light gray vein.” Levi cuts himself off, flipping the phone around and fast forwarding the shot to where the knife is plunging deep into the mattress. “Look at the reflection in the blade. The window finishes, the fucking high ceilings and shelving. That’s the home you built, Roman. Father has him at Victor’s place.”

A deep, guttural growl rumbles through Roman’s chest as he takes the phone and looks it over again, his jaw clenching as he looks over the frame. “Are you fucking sure?” he asks, though I see the positivity in his eyes. He fucking knows where his son is, and nothing will stop him now.

“Positive,” Levi demands.

And without another word, the four of us storm out through the boarded-up home, the shit-scared drug dealer the least of our worries.

17

Silence surrounds us as we pull up outside the mansion that Roman built. It was a long drive here, but not nearly as long as the first time we made the trip. Roman drove like a fucking maniac, breaking every traffic law known to man, though it’s not like he ever abides by those laws anyway.

It’s well after three in the morning and the heaviness that’s sat on my heart for the past few hours has been enough to nearly kill me. I’ve never panicked like this, never felt this overwhelming fear, not even when I was locked in Giovanni’s basement cells.

This is an innocent child’s life hanging in the balance, and I don’t trust Giovanni for a damn second to not hurt that sweet baby.

I made a promise to Felicity as she died before me that I would take care of her baby, that I would keep him safe, and damn it, I plan on keeping that promise, even if it’s the last thing I do.

The SUV sits idle in the massive driveway. There isn’t a light on in the house and I have absolutely no idea how we plan to do this. The long drive here was silent. We didn’t discuss a plan and we sure as hell didn’t stop to load up on weapons. We’re unprepared, though something tells me that’s when the boys are at their best. Tonight will be about acting on instinct, and if someone gets in their way, they better hope that the brothers are in a merciful mood, though the odds aren’t stacked in their favor.

Levi opens the glove box and pulls out a gun before handing it back to me. “Point. Shoot,” he warns me. “Do not hesitate.”

I swallow hard and take the gun, feeling the familiar weight in the palm of my hand. “I won’t,” I tell him, the anxiety rising high in my chest, though I won’t dare tell them that. They’ll most likely bench me, and I’m not down for that shit, especially not when people like Victor and Giovanni could be running around. I need to play my cards carefully. Getting that baby back is the main focus here, and it doesn’t matter who or what they need to sacrifice to make that happen.

Roman pushes his door wide and the boys follow his lead. I scramble after them, their long strides making them almost float across the massive driveway. “What’s the plan?” Marcus questions, checking over his gun before tucking it back into the waistband of his pants. The set of his jaw makes him look like the devil rising straight out of hell.

“Don’t have one,” Roman spits, his gaze shifting to the massive mansion and lingering on a window at the far east side. “We go in and take out every last fucker who stands in our way. Do not stop until you have my son.”

Levi nods and takes off to the left while Marcus goes to the right, leaving me flanking Roman with a ball of nerves resting heavily in my chest. We skip up the front steps and come to a stop at the very top, looking over the massive front door that’s been recently replaced.

He tries the handle and I’m not surprised when it doesn’t budge. “Fuck,” he murmurs, not wanting to cause any kind of scene that would have the occupants waking up. If we’re going to get the drop on them, then we’re going to make it count.

With a raised brow, I watch Roman pull something from his pocket and twist it onto the front of his gun. My knowledge on guns is as shit as it comes, but judging by all the movies I’ve watched, this is some kind of silencer. Roman takes a step back and I do the same, keeping my wide eyes on him.

He takes the shot and his aim is perfect, just as I knew it would be. Without skipping a beat, he steps into the door and slowly pushes it open, pausing to wait for any type of alarm.

The house remains silent, but that doesn’t mean that a silent alarm hasn’t been tripped.

His sharp, skilled gaze scans the darkened foyer, and I can’t help but keep my stare on him, using him as my guiding light in this uncertainty. “We good?” I murmur, keeping my tone as low as possible, terrified that anybody could jump out at me at a moment’s notice.

His gaze narrows before he nods to me and slowly creeps deeper into the mansion. “Follow me,” he finally mutters, his tone curt and sharp, the seriousness of the situation dripping from his voice.

Roman takes off, and I grip my gun tighter as I trail after him. I can’t see shit and have absolutely no idea where we’re going. I’ve been through here once before, but we beelined straight for the expansive formal living area and never ventured any deeper. This place is a mystery to me, filled with all kinds of secrets that I’m certain I don’t want to uncover, but I trust Roman to lead me through it. He knows this place better than he knows the ins and outs of the castle he was kept prisoner in for ten years.

He leads me to the grand staircase and a part of me dies, hating this for him. This was supposed to be his, this was the home he was supposed to raise a family in, and now we’re breaking into it for the second time.

We take the stairs two at a time and I struggle to keep up with his speed. He gets to the top and glances back at me before reaching back and gripping my hand. He pulls me along, his determination to get to his son like nothing I’ve ever experienced from him before.

He leads me right through the mansion, beelining straight for the east wing to the room he’d been staring at from the driveway. Reaching the last door in the long hallway, he stops and silently presses his back to the wall before seeking out my stare. Roman’s brow arches high. “You ready?” he questions. His silent warning is loud and clear; do not fuck this up.

I swallow hard and nod as my hand tightens on the gun. We have no idea what we might find in that room … or who for that matter. “You go for the baby,” he instructs. “And I’ll take care of anything else. You save my child and leave, even if it means leaving without me. Is that clear?”

The heaviness I’d felt earlier returns two-fold and I nod, knowing that no matter what, I will come through for him, even if he’s bleeding out on the ground. If I don’t, he’ll kill me himself.

“Clear,” I tell him, letting him see the conviction in my eyes.

Approving of what he sees, his gaze drops to his gun, and he quickly checks it before stepping away from the wall and positioning himself in front of the bedroom door. Nerves flicker through me and he spares me one last glance before his heavy booted foot slams against the wooden door and splinters it into a million pieces.

Roman barges through the broken door, gun held up as I race in behind him. He quickly scans the room, searching out whatever threats are hidden within. Seeing the crib in the far corner, I sprint like a motherfucker racing from the cops, trusting that Roman will have my back.

Four steps. Three steps.

Two.

Dread sinks heavily into my chest the closer I get. The room is nearly pitch black but there’s no mistaking the empty crib in front of me.

I pull up short, my momentum sending me right into the side of the crib as I grip onto it with everything I’ve got. “Fuck,” I breathe, spinning around to find Roman standing in the center of an empty room, watching me with wide, hopeful eyes. I shake my head, my heart splitting right through the center as the fear of the unknown washes over me. “He’s not here.”

Roman’s face falls and he drops to his knees, the overwhelming grief and terror for his lost child tearing up everything inside of him. It’s the most gut-wrenching thing I’ve ever seen, but now isn’t the time to break. That baby needs us now more than ever and falling to pieces on the ground isn’t helping him.

I race to Roman and grip his arm, trying to pull him up. “Come on,” I urge him, the desperation clear in my voice. “We can break down once we have him back. We need to go. We can’t stay here.”

Roman looks up at me with dead eyes and a tear falls down my cheek. He doesn’t move and I find myself moving closer to him, giving him this moment to come to terms with our failure tonight. “We’re too late,” he mutters, gripping my waist and dropping his forehead to my stomach. “He’s gone.”

My fingers curl into the back of his thick hair, and putting aside my own fears and haunting thoughts, I tear his head back, forcing his stare to mine. “Don’t you dare give up on your son,” I seethe, spitting the words through my clenched jaw. “This isn’t over yet. Felicity’s dying wish was for that baby to be kept safe. I gave her my word. Don’t you dare make me a liar, Roman DeAngelis. Setbacks happen, but breaking down on the floor while your son is still out there is unacceptable. Now get the fuck up and be the man I know you to be. We are not out of options yet. Victor is still in this house somewhere and we won’t be leaving until we get the answers we need.”

Roman meets my stare and I watch the determination and fight come storming back into his eyes like molten lava destroying everything in its path. He gets to his feet and stands right in front of me, gripping my chin and tearing it up. He crushes a bruising kiss to my lips and before a gasp can even escape from deep in my chest, he’s gone, racing out the door.

I stumble back on my feet, trying to find a grip on reality before rushing out of the room after him. I break into the hallway to find him almost at the grand stairs, and I hurry after him, not wanting to be left alone up here with who knows how many hidden threats lying in wait behind each of these doors.

Roman pauses at the top of the steps and I come to a stop behind him, my hand slamming up against his back to keep me from falling into him. His hand shoots out, stopping me before I tumble straight down the steps, and as he does, I find Marcus waiting at the bottom. “The baby?” he questions.

I shake my head and Marcus cringes, his jaw clenching as fire tears through his dark eyes. “Fuck,” he says, shifting his hard stare to Roman. “We’ve got Victor down here. The rest of the house is cleared.”

Roman nods and grips my hand before making his way down the stairs. I follow behind him as a wave of unease settles into my chest. I don’t know how this is going to go down or just how far the boys will go, but every cell inside my body is warning me to prepare myself. This is going to be brutal.

We reach the bottom of the stairs and I hate the way Roman releases my hand. He steps out in front of me and Marcus immediately takes his place, dropping his hand to my lower back as he leads me through the big property.

We step into a sitting room at the front of the house, the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the big circle driveway with the perfect view of the water fountain in the center and the gardens off to the right. If the sun were up, I’m sure it’d be an impressive sight, but right now, all I can seem to focus on is the man tied to a chair in the center of the room.

Victor pulls and tugs against his binds, but Levi and Marcus are skilled men. I don’t know which one of them tied him up, but they did a spectacular job. This motherfucker won’t be going anywhere.

Levi stands by the far wall, leaning against it to give him the perfect vantage point of the room, what’s beyond the window, and the exit. His gaze sweeps across to me, and without a word passing between us, he knows that Roman and I have failed. Pain flickers through his deep eyes and I want nothing more than to run across the sitting room and fall into his strong arms, telling him that everything is going to be alright. But for now, the main focus is Victor.

Marcus shuffles around the room, putting himself directly behind Victor while I trail to the front of the room with Roman, wanting to see Victor’s face.

My heart races.

Victor pulls against his binds, growling as his eyes flick between the three brothers. He knows what kind of shit he’s in and it leaves me wondering if he truly thought that he’d get away with it. Did he really think that the boys wouldn’t track Giovanni here? That they wouldn’t hold him personally responsible for allowing Giovanni to take off with Roman’s newborn son.

Shit, this motherfucker is done for.

A smirk pulls at my lips, and I hate myself for how obvious I am about his downfall. I can’t pretend to know all about the ins and outs of the DeAngelis Mafia, but this man has spent who knows how many years standing at Giovanni’s side. He carries out the jobs that Giovanni is too fucking pussy to do himself. This man is nothing but a swine, taking up too much space on this planet. I can only imagine the shit he’s done to the boys over the years, and today, they get vengeance.

I can only imagine what they have in store for him, and damn it, it shouldn’t excite me the way it does, but what can I say? The boys have well and truly dragged me kicking and screaming over to the dark side, and I’m not gonna lie, I kinda like it over here.

Victor’s darkened gaze sweeps by me and he pauses for a moment, probably having assumed that I was dead. I can only imagine Victor and Giovanni sitting up into the early hours of the morning, sipping on expensive whiskey while laughing about the way Giovanni kidnapped me and shoved me in a cell beside a laboring Felicity and his cheating wife.

Not seeing me as a threat, his gaze quickly shoots back to Roman’s, seeing that the floor is all his tonight.

Roman takes his time, but every second he doesn’t make his move, the anguish and rage only builds within him. He places himself directly in front of the large window and stares back at his uncle, his body like a silhouette in front of the big glass pane. “Where are they?” Roman’s voice finally rumbles through the room, his tone daring his uncle to challenge him, so Roman has an excuse to slit his throat.

Victor roars, pulling against his binds. “Release me,” he spits, “and I might allow you to live.”

Roman laughs and I can’t help the grin that cuts across my face. Who does this guy think he is? Does he not know what his nephews are capable of, or does he assume that using a stern tone with them is going to have them shitting their pants and turning into yes men?

Roman scoffs. “You are in no position to be making demands. Now I will ask you again, where is my father and my baby?” he demands, quickly shooting his gaze toward Marcus at the back of the room and nodding.

Victor keeps his stare on Roman, knowing he’s the one pulling the strings, but I can’t help glancing over his head to watch the way Marcus subtly shuffles around and steps in closer. My brows arch high as I spy the familiar red container filled with gasoline and my eyes only widen as he hoists it up and starts to pour it over his uncle’s head.

Victor spits and flinches under the flammable liquid, and when Marcus finally eases up, he shakes his head, sending droplets of gasoline far and wide through the room. The smell hits my nostrils and I do what I can to not hold my hand to my nose to block it out.

A deep rumbling growl tears from Victor, and something tells me that he’s clearly worked out how tonight is going to go for him. “You think I’m going to tell you now?” Victor laughs manically. “You’ve got no fucking hope.”

The rage is too much and Roman races in toward his uncle, gripping him under the chin. “WHERE ARE THEY?”

Victor continues to laugh. “Your father should have slaughtered you when he had the chance.”

Levi pushes off the wall and steps closer while still giving Roman his space to run the show. “That’s really how you want to play this, Uncle? Come on, I thought you were a smart man.”

Victor spits as gasoline drips from his hair. “Oh, I am, Nephew,” he says. “Which is exactly why I won’t speak. Your father will rise up, and when he does, this bullshit war that you’ve fabricated would look like nothing but a joke. He’s got you right where he wants you, always five steps behind. You three are a joke, now hurry up and do it,” he growls, sharpening his deadly glare back on Roman. “Send me off in a blaze of glory.”

Roman glances at Marcus again and not a second later, Marcus tears Victor’s head back as Roman reaches out and forces his jaw apart, most likely breaking it in the process. Marcus pours the gasoline down his throat, and he has no choice but to swallow it to avoid drowning.

Gasoline splashes all over the sitting room and I find myself backing up, seeing only one outcome here and being smart enough to know that I don’t want to be anywhere near him when he goes up in a ball of explosive flames.

Marcus stops pouring, only to start splashing the gasoline around the room. He walks out and leaves a trail behind him, spreading it far and wide.

Roman releases Victor’s jaw and he immediately starts to cough and splutter, looking like complete shit. I don’t doubt that he’ll be hurling all over the room soon enough.

I don’t know shit about gasoline poisoning, but I know it can be lethal, though something tells me that he’ll be dead long before the gasoline gets a chance to shut down his system.

Levi moves in next to me and presses his hand to my lower back before leading me out of the room. Just as I look back over my shoulder, I see Roman leaning into his uncle. “You’re a fool, Victor. Always have been. Giovanni DeAngelis will never rise. His empire is mine.”

Levi pulls me from the room and all but races to the front door. Marcus is there and the three of us run down the front steps, my hands clenched tightly in both of theirs.

My foot hits the hard pavement of the circle driveway, and just as I look back over my shoulder to search for Roman, a loud explosion tears through the property, sending a bright orange glow soaring through the front sitting room window. The glass shatters with the force of the blow, and I drop to the ground as I stare up at the massive home, watching in horror as the flames quickly take over.

“NO,” I scream, scrambling to my feet. Both Levi and Marcus hold me back. “ROMAN IS IN THERE.”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Marcus tells me, pulling me hard into his chest, caging me in with his strong arms.

I claw at his skin, the desperation ripping through me like a fucking chainsaw tearing through flesh. The panic sets in, and though it’s barely been a second, it feels like a goddamn lifetime.

My panicked stare scans over the property, watching the way the flames quickly trail from room to room, destroying everything in their path. Just when I think there’s absolutely no hope, a dark silhouette appears in the open doorway, the flames lighting up the foyer behind him like an inferno leading straight to hell.

18

Roman storms down the stairs as the home he built goes up in flames behind him. His face is marred with soot, and he doesn’t dare look up at his brothers as he passes.

My heart breaks for him. All he wanted out of this was to get his son home and safe, and once again, we came up empty handed. It’s like running headfirst into a wall over and over again, hoping for a different outcome. But this … the home he built for his future, the home he always planned to raise his children in, where he wanted to give them the life he never had, it’s gone.

Marcus’ hold eases on my waist as I turn and watch the eldest DeAngelis brother walk away. He strides across the big driveway, the glow from the burning mansion shining down upon him and showing off the tight way he holds his shoulders. He’s been standing on edge since the moment he found out his son was alive, and losing him again tonight was exactly what he didn’t need.

“Fuck,” Levi mutters, watching his brother with the deepest sorrow in his eyes. “What the hell are we going to do? That baby is as good as gone.”

Marcus shakes his head, his hand dropping to my lower back. “I’ve got no fucking idea,” he says, his tone low and filled with an ache that tears at my chest. “This is going to destroy him.”

“Father is going to retaliate when he finds out what we’ve done to Victor.”

Marcus nods, more than aware of the consequences he just walked straight into. “It’s not going to be pretty,” he comments as his hands find my wrists and slide up to my upper arms, holding me at his chest as I struggle to peel my eyes off Roman.

He reaches the black SUV and braces his hands wide against the hood as his head hangs forward. The muscles in his back are tight, and I can only imagine what kind of fresh hell is going through his head right now. Either way, he looks about ready to raise hell … or drown in it.

My hand falls against Marcus’ chest as I look up to meet his dark eyes, but the overwhelming grief that is staring back nearly knocks me right off my feet. “Give us a minute,” I tell him.

Marcus’ grip on my arms tightens. “That’s not a good idea, babe. There’s no telling how he’s going to react to this. Give him some time to cool down.”

“I’m with Marc,” Levi says, stepping a little closer and placing a hand on my hip. I glance back over my shoulder to meet his broken stare. “Roman … he feels things hard. He bottles it up until he can’t take it any longer and then explodes. You don’t want to be there when that happens.”

I shake my head, my gaze settling back on the destroyed man across the driveway. “I can’t,” I murmur. “Look at him. He needs someone. I’m not just going to leave him there to let this eat at him. He needs to get it out. He needs to scream … or strangle something. I don’t fucking know, but I’m not just going to stand by and let him bottle it all up. It will destroy him.”

Levi grips my arm and tears me out of Marcus’ grasp, spinning me around to face him front on. “I don’t think you’re hearing me,” he warns. “If you push him to talk about it before he’s ready, he will fucking strangle you.”

My fingers curl around his tight grip and I rip them off my arm, my eyes narrowing as a silent, furious rage builds within me. “And you’re not hearing me,” I spit, hating how my stubborn nature always seems to clash with their need to rule over every aspect of my life. “Roman needs me, and whether you like it or not, I’m going over there to help him. He needs an outlet, and that outlet is me. You need to learn to trust me,” I say, glancing back at Marcus. “Both of you do. I know what I’m doing.”

Levi’s gaze shifts up over my head to Marcus, caution deep in his obsidian eyes as they seem to have some kind of silent conversation. After a short beat, Levi lets out a defeated sigh and gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Fine,” he mutters. “You can go, but if he loses his shit, you get the fuck out of there.”

I raise a brow, irritation burning deep within me. “Thanks,” I murmur, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the way these boys think they can confess their undying love and suddenly be rewarded with the ability to order me around. “But I wasn’t asking permission.”

Levi’s gaze hardens and I don’t doubt that he’s fighting the need to whoop my ass, but I don’t hang around to find out. Slipping out from between them, I make my way across the massive driveway toward Roman, determined to help him in what little way I can, though if I’m completely honest, I have absolutely no idea what I can offer him to make this any easier.

He stands with his back to me and gives no indication that he hears me coming, and as I get closer, I find myself glancing back over my shoulder. Marcus and Levi are nowhere to be seen, but I don’t doubt that they’re still close, ready to jump in and save me if it comes down to it. But for the most part, they’ve offered me what little privacy they can manage, and for that, I’m grateful.

Moving in behind Roman, I gently place my hand in the center of his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath. His body shakes with rage and it tears at something within me. Roman and I have always had a strained relationship, right from the beginning. We butt heads at every turn, but that asshole has more than grown on me, and seeing him in this kind of distress hurts me in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.

His body tightens under my touch and he becomes impossibly still.

Turning into him, I look up at the haunted man who stands before me, slowly trailing my hand from his back around to gently capture his bicep beneath my fingers. “Roman.” His name comes out as the softest whisper that has his head slowly rising.

He turns his attention on me and a gasp pulls from the back of my throat as his dark, dead eyes land on mine. He looks like a complete stranger, completely lost to pain and grief causing havoc over his heart. I know with every beat of my heart that I would do or say absolutely anything it takes.

I step into him, my chest gently brushing up against his arm as the darkness surrounds us, leaving nothing but an orange glow coming from the inferno behind us, heating my skin and raging loudly into the silent night. “Let me take your pain.”

Roman holds my stare for a long moment, his desperation like two deep, hollow pits of helplessness looking back at me. Then as if flipping some kind of switch deep inside of him, the pain and grief flooding his dark gaze turns to rage. “There is no taking my pain,” he growls, his low tone vibrating right through my chest and eating at me.

His hand snaps out and circles my throat, and with a hard yank, he throws me down against the hood of the SUV. A pained gasp tears from my throat as he keeps me pinned under his strong hold, his body pressing against mine as he leans over me to get right in my face.

My hands grip his on my throat as the darkness swirling in his eyes bear down on me. “Don’t you fucking get it?” he growls, his face just inches from mine. “It’s fucking over. He’s gone. MY SON IS GONE.”

I shake my head, pulling at his hands just to get a breath in. “I don’t believe that,” I tell him, sucking in low, shallow gasps. “We will find him. This is just a setback.”

He leans in a little closer so his nose brushes up against mine. “We won’t. Victor was right. My father is always five steps ahead of us. I will never get to see my son. I’m going to have to spend every day of the rest of my fucking miserable life knowing what kind of hell my father is putting my son through, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Releasing one of my hands from his on my throat, I loop it around his neck and thread my fingers up into his hair, trailing my nails over his scalp. “You’re going to be okay, Roman,” I breathe. “I know you don’t have faith that we can find him, but I have enough for the both of us.”

Roman closes his eyes, the pain tearing through him at speeds he simply can’t keep up with. When he opens them again, they’re impossibly darker and filled with the most intense desperation I’ve ever seen. He lets out a heavy breath and the conflict tearing through him blasts into me as though I can feel every little fucked-up emotion he does.

His hand eases on my throat, allowing me the chance to suck in a deep breath as his thumb trails back and forth over my skin, then just when I think he’s going to pull back and take a moment to breathe, his lips crush down on mine in a bruising, angry kiss.

My eyes widen in surprise, but as his kiss grows more impatient, more desperate, I let him take what he needs, kissing him back with the same ferocity. Our lips clash, and our tongues fight for dominance as his other hand grasps my waist, squeezing tight.

A low growl tears from deep in his chest and I feel it vibrating straight through to mine. There’s absolutely nothing erotic about it, and I quickly realize that this isn’t about finally giving in to his most basic urges but needing an escape from the tortured thoughts haunting his mind, and damn it, whatever he needs, I will give him. I’m his outlet. My body is his salvation and my heart is his escape.

His body pins me to the hood of the car and I wiggle my legs free to wrap them around his waist and his responding groan is all the approval I need to keep going. My fingers tighten in his hair, gripping tightly as his fingers dig into my skin.

I don’t bother stopping him to ask if he’s sure because he’s not going to give me an answer. And though he might regret it later, at this very moment, this is exactly what he needs.

It’s going to be hard, fast, and angry. This won’t be about pleasure. It won’t be about coming, and hell, it’ll probably even hurt, but I welcome it. Maybe a part of me even needs this just as bad as he does. His need comes from a place of desperation where mine is pure lust for the man who has tormented me for months. How fucking sick am I to want this with him?

All I know is that the moment he is done with me, it will be over. He’s not going to cuddle, and he’s sure as fuck not going to offer me a warm towel to clean up. It’ll be raw and ugly and leave a gaping hole in my chest, but I’m here for whatever he needs.

My legs tighten around his waist as he grinds against me, his massive cock straining through the front of his jeans, desperate for more. A needy groan escapes through my lips and his hungry kiss swallows the sound. Then all too soon, Roman releases my throat and tears himself away, forcing me to release my hold in his hair. He pants heavily, a crazed expression in his eyes, and for a moment, I wonder if he will walk away, but he just stares at me with the deepest need in his eyes.

The silence kills me, and as I watch him, I see the indecision creeping into his stare. He knows this is wrong, that he’s taking advantage, using me for his sick need to get off just to feel something other than the grief for his lost son and the anger that plagues him. But I don’t allow him the chance to question it further as I nod, letting him know this is okay. “Whatever you need, Roman. I can handle it.”

His eyes blaze with something I’ve never seen before, something I don’t quite understand, and as my chest rises with a sharp breath, his hands fall to the waistband of my pants, tearing them down my legs. My underwear goes down with my pants and he quickly discards them on the ground behind him, then before he can give himself a moment to change his mind, he reaches for the front of his jeans and releases his cock.

It springs free from the confines of his pants, and I hate that from this position, I don’t get to feast my eyes upon it, but the way it brushes up against my inner thigh tells me exactly what I need to know. He’s a fucking big boy. Though I already knew that from the rooftop of the high-rise, only now, I actually get to see what’s going down.

He doesn’t tear my shirt off like his brothers would have, and he doesn’t waste time removing his jeans. This isn’t about that. This is about getting in and getting out. Hard, fast, and raw.

Roman barely gives me a chance to prepare myself before he grips my thighs and yanks me toward him, dangling my ass right off the hood of the SUV. My legs curl around his waist, and before I can even get a good grip on him, he slams his thick cock deep inside my cunt, not even waiting to check that I’m wet.

I cry out, his intrusion stretching me wide as his fingers dig into my hips, holding me still. He pulls back, his cock coated with my arousal, and I tilt my hips into a better position to take him deeper. He thrusts again and a groan tears from the back of my throat as I slam my hand down, searching for something to grip onto to keep from falling off the hood.

“Fuck,” I grunt, tipping my head back as the sheer satisfaction of having Roman deep inside me slams through my chest.

He takes me again, harder and faster. My chest rises and falls quickly, matching his speed and I can’t help but watch the way he clenches his jaw, the sharp lines telling me so much more than he says out loud. A low rumble sounds through my chest and he holds me tighter, pain flaring in his eyes, making me realize that he’s holding back in fear of hurting me.

My hand falls to his on my hip and I squeeze it tight, my nails digging into his flesh. “I can take it, Roman,” I grunt through a clenched jaw as he thrusts into me again, stretching my walls and sending a wave of pure pleasure pulsing through me. “Give it to me. Take it out on my body.”

The fiercest desire comes over him, and without a second more of hesitation, he pulls his hand out from under mine and places it on top before interlocking our fingers. He squeezes hard and slips his other hand under my ass, holding me up, and with that, he gives in to his most basic, animal urges and fucks me like he’ll never fuck again.

His thrusts are wild and raw, hard and deep, hitting me in all the right places. If he hadn’t been holding onto me so tight, he sure as fuck would have sent me straight through the front of the windshield. I scream out, my pussy clenching around him, instantly accepting his brutal need as I release the hood with my other hand and press my fingers to my clit.

He watches me, rubbing furiously at my clit as he fucks me hard, panting and groaning with every wild thrust. His balls slap against my ass over and over and I moan, that familiar burn growing deep inside of me. “Fuck, I’m going to come,” I pant.

He doesn’t respond, simply adjusts his stance to come at me from a new angle that sends my eyes rolling into the back of my head. I’m left desperate to roll over and have him hit it from behind bending me over as he brutally fucks me into submission … but that will have to wait.

My pussy clenches and I cry out. “FUCK, YES.”

A needy grunt pulls from the back of Roman’s throat, and as my eyes come back to his, feeling the way his hand tightens in mine, I realize just how fucking close he is. “Give it to me, Roman,” I demand as my pussy reaches its limits and turns into a spasming wreck. “Let me have it.”

Roman’s jaw clenches, and as he takes me one last time, he comes hard, shooting his hot load deep into my cunt with a loud groan. “FUCK,” he roars, breathing heavily as my walls clench around his thick cock, violently coming undone around him.

His hold eases and he pushes me further up the hood of the SUV so that he can release me without dropping me in the process, but damn it, he doesn’t dare let go of his hold on my hand. He takes slow deep breaths as I come down from my high, trying to figure out how the hell I was able to handle that.

He meets my eyes and there’s a strange hesitation there that has my chest constricting with pain. He carefully pulls out of me, knowing I’m bound to be sore, and I try not to react. I’m definitely going to be feeling that tomorrow. “Are you okay?” he questions as he meets my eyes.

I sit up on the hood, feeling his warm seed seeping out of me, but that’s the least of my problems. Reaching up, I hook my arm around his neck and force him to hold my stare. “Are you?”

He swallows hard and a hint of darkness flashes in his eyes, but the strained anger seems to have subsided, allowing him to breathe easier. He gives a subtle nod, brushing his thumb over the top of my knuckles. “For now.”

Relief settles into my chest as I tilt my head forward, meeting my forehead with his. “Then I’m okay,” I tell him, catching sight of the burning mansion from the corner of my eye and knowing it’s bound to draw the attention of the authorities, especially with them already watching the DeAngelis family closely after both Antonio and Ronaldo’s murders. “I know you were hoping to get more out of being here, but we need to go.”

He nods and releases my hand before tucking himself back into his jeans. He helps me down and hands me my pants. As I take them from him, Marcus and Levi appear from around the corner of the burning mansion, both of their dark eyes coming straight to mine. Levi’s strained gaze is filled with anger, and he looks as though he could tear his brother apart for being so rough with me, while Marcus looks like he just came to the realization of what it truly means to share.

My stare drops away as a sliver of guilt tears through me, and without another word, the four of us get back into the SUV and leave the burning mansion behind, knowing that what just happened here will never be spoken of again.

19

The sun is just peeking over the mountains far in the distance when Levi’s voice sounds through the silent SUV. “Phillip’s vineyard is only thirty minutes south of here,” he says. “It couldn’t hurt to stop by and see what he knows.”

Roman keeps his eyes on the road as Marcus’ gaze swivels from out the window to the front seat. It’s been a long drive, and while long drives are becoming more frequent in my life, the silence in the car has made the past two hours seem like a lifetime. The tension in the car is thick. I mean, the boys knew that eventually Roman and I would seal the deal, but perhaps they were hoping it wouldn’t have been quite so soon. Though they don’t need to panic, despite how good and raw it was, I doubt Roman will slip up and allow himself to indulge in me again, because for that to happen, the two of us would have to put our differences aside and allow the other in, which isn’t as easy as it sounds.

A minute passes before Roman finally nods and veers into the outside lane, preparing to pull off at the next exit, unknowingly sending a wave of panic soaring through my chest. The last time I saw Phillip, I was playing dead on the dirty ground while listening to the sickening sound of him assaulting Ariana in the worst possible way. The last thing I want to do is see his face again, but I can’t possibly skip the opportunity to save her from the fresh hell that he no doubt rains down on her night after night.

“Ariana is there,” I remind them, though something tells me that they’re not the kind of guys who would simply forget something like that. “She saved me from him. We’re taking her home.”

Roman’s gaze meets mine through the rearview mirror and I see the indecision in his eyes, wanting to keep focused on finding his son. In the big scheme of things, Ariana is nothing but scum on the bottom of his shoe after her betrayal. She was once his rock, but that’s all in the past now.

“You know it’s the right thing to do,” I state, just in case he surprises me for the millionth time and decides to leave her ass there.

He rolls his eyes as the softest huff pulls from between his lips, warning me that he’s really not in the mood to argue right now. Though there’s no need, he’ll do the right thing. He always does … you know, when he’s not doing things like murdering people and kidnapping innocent women from their shitty apartments.

The added half hour to our drive is painful and I silently wish for Marcus to snap out of his jealous fury and allow the tension to seep away, but he needs time to stew. He’ll eventually come around … I hope. Levi on the other hand just stares out the front windshield, and every now and then I catch him curling his hand into a tight fist as he side-eyes his eldest brother. But just like Marcus, he’ll get over it.

We drive down a long, private road that gives Phillip plenty of warning that we’re here, though with our tinted windows, I doubt he knows it’s us. He probably assumes it’s Giovanni coming to discuss business after everything that’s been going down recently.

Roman slows as we approach the massive home, which was no doubt built with blood money and slave labor. It’s just as beautiful as Roman’s home was, and I can’t help but wonder if this was originally intended for Marcus or Levi.

The SUV comes to a stop right outside the door, and as we pile out of the car, the massive front door peels back. Phillip stands in a black business suit, and judging by the disheveled state of it, along with the heavy bags under his eyes and the glass of whiskey in his hand, he’s had a bit of a long night.

We walk toward the front door and as he gets a good look at his early morning visitors, suspicion creeps into his dark gaze. “Nephews,” he says in greeting, his back straightening with unease as his gaze flicks to mine. Surprise flashes in his eyes but he does what he can to mask it. He holds my stare a moment longer, realizing that not only am I alive, but that I know his dark little secret.

Phillip’s eyes narrow with a silent warning that I immediately disregard, and assuming he got his point across to keep my mouth shut, he turns his attention back to the boys, the clear threats that stand on his front doorstep. “What are you doing here?” he questions.

Roman eyes him cautiously before striding straight past and welcoming himself into Phillip’s home. Levi follows and Marcus pauses a moment to allow me to go first. Not wanting to hold up this little pissing contest, I scurry along, unsure of how this is going to go.

Following Levi into the big house, a shiver trails down my spine. This isn’t exactly a home that I want to be in, but we have a mission and I plan to see it through.

Despite Phillip’s disheveled appearance, he clearly still has a little energy to cause shit as his lips twist into a wicked grin when I pass him. “Come to see what you missed out on, hey?” he murmurs, his deep, low tone sending shivers down my spine. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“What’s the matter?” I challenge, pausing to glare at him. “Disappointed that you never got a chance to fuck my dead corpse?”

His face drops and a flicker of anger appears in his eyes as his body goes still. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, girl.”

A smirk pulls at my lips. Apparently, his little dead girl fetish is a bit of a secret. “Don’t worry, pervert. You don’t need to be shy. It’s nothing that I haven’t already told the boys all about.”

Before he gets a chance to fire back some appalling comment, Marcus steps into my back and gently urges me to keep walking, not wanting to set him off before they get a chance to interrogate him. We walk in through the front foyer and the boys fan out in a way that puts Phillip directly in the center, leaving him no easy escape. “What is all of this about?” he questions, though I’m sure he already knows. “Where is your father? Has he sent you here?”

Marcus narrows his gaze. “Tell us what we need to know, and we will leave peacefully.”

“Why don’t you tell me what I need to know,” he starts, way too confident in his current company, proving that it’s definitely in the genes. “I find it peculiar that just two hours after a blaze tore through my brother’s home, you three show up on my doorstep.”

“What are you suggesting?” Marcus questions.

Phillip’s gaze narrows and slowly glances from brother to brother, skipping by me as though I couldn't possibly know what the hell is going on. “Don’t play coy with me, boy, I am not in the mood. You know exactly what I am suggesting. You killed my brother and that poses an issue for me.”

Roman raises his chin. “How so?”

Phillip’s voice lowers and the tone that sounds through the large foyer sends a chilling shiver through my veins. “That kill was mine,” he growls. “I’ve stood in Victor’s shadow my whole life. I had big plans for him.”

Marcus shrugs his shoulders. “Snooze, you lose, old man,” he says, provoking Phillip and making Levi’s face twist into a cringe. “Victor had many enemies, and if you wished to end his life, then you should have moved a little faster.”

“What was your grievance with my brother?” Phillip spits. “He did not owe you anything.”

“On the contrary,” Roman says, stepping forward. “He had information that I needed and his failure to share earned him a one-way ticket to hell. So I will warn you now, if you don’t tell me what I need to know, then you will be meeting with your late brother sooner than you had anticipated, and I promise you will not enjoy it.”

Phillip narrows his gaze, looking over the brothers in a new light. “It is true, isn’t it? You’re taking over the family business.”

Levi’s lips pull into a wicked smirk and a darkness settles over his gaze that has me oddly turned on despite the dull ache that’s been pulsing between my legs with every step that I take. “It was about time, don’t you think?”

Interest sweeps over Phillip’s face, and I see the exact moment he decides that this new turn of events could work in his favor. “Where is your father now?” he questions, his eyes going far away as the wheels start turning inside his head, probably trying to figure out how he can gain from this.

“That’s what we’ve come to ask you,” Roman says, his tone a subtle warning not to fuck with him. “Up until last night, my father was staying in Victor’s home, yet when we arrived … poof,” he says, blowing his fingers out in front of him. “Gone.”

Phillip laughs. “And you think he would come to me?”

“If we thought he had come here,” Marcus says with a sick grin. “You would be dead on your doorstep by now.”

Phillip eyes him cautiously before turning his gaze back to Roman. “So if you do not think he is here, then why come here at all?”

“Because apart from the fact that you have something that belongs to me,” he says, referring to Ariana and making my heart bleed when he says he still considers her his. “You’re one of the last people to have been in contact with him, and I need to know what you know.”

A noise sounds on the stairs behind us and I flick my gaze around just in time to see a little girl dressed in her nightgown. Realizing something is going on at the bottom of the stairs, her head shoots up and a soft gasp pulls from between her lips. She looks to her father, and for a moment, I want to hate the boys for not having checked if anyone else was in the house, but then that’s on my shoulders as well.

“Daddy,” the little girl says, her wide eyes terrified as she takes in her eldest cousin who she no doubt had been trained to be fearful of. “What’s going on?”

Phillip swallows hard. “Nothing, honey. Your cousins are just here for an early morning business meeting,” he says, making my stomach churn with how sweet he is to his daughter while another woman rots away, most likely in some dungeon cell beneath the foundation of this home. “Go and watch your shows. Mommy will make you breakfast soon.”

The little girl, who must only be four or five, glances at the three boys again, and I have to commend her for the caution that spreads over her face. Assuming she somehow gets away from her father, she might even grow into a really smart girl who can save herself from this messed up world, something I should have done before I allowed it to corrupt my soul to the point of no return.

The girl scurries away and all eyes turn back to Phillip. “You need to leave,” he says. “You never should have come here where my children sleep.”

“The ball is in your court, Phillip,” Roman says as though this is some kind of hostage negotiation. “Tell me what I want to know and handover Ariana. No one needs to get hurt, but fail to give me what I’ve come for and well …”

Roman’s sentence trails off as his gaze sweeps back to the stairs, letting Phillip know exactly what he would do. My stomach twists at just the thought, but a part of me has to believe that Roman is just bluffing. He would never hurt that little girl, but Phillip doesn’t need to know that.

Rage burns in Phillip’s gaze before he finally nods. “False wall in the east wing office. She’s down there.”

Roman nods before glancing at Marcus. “Go. Take Shayne with you.”

Marcus silently walks away and my eyes widen, realizing this is really happening. I scurry after him, not wanting to be left behind as I hear Roman going on. “And my father?”

We disappear around a corner before I get to hear Phillip’s response and I keep myself right behind Marcus, not wanting to get separated from him in this big home. Who knows what other dirty secrets are buried here.

We find the office a short moment later, and Marcus pushes through the locked door with ease and we step into a massive room. It’s bigger than my whole fucking apartment, but I’m not surprised. Everything in this world is big and coated in luxury. It’s ridiculous and most likely funded by drug money.

Despite it being just past six in the morning and the likelihood of someone walking these halls are about the same as the likelihood of me spreading my legs willingly for Giovanni, I close the door behind us.

Phillip said something about a false wall, but I don’t see a damn thing. Marcus moves across the room, searching for what’s hidden in plain sight as my hands skim over the walls. This isn’t exactly something that I have experience with, but I’m not going to lie, it’s sending adrenaline through my veins like a wildfire.

Not finding anything on the side wall, I step in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelf and scan over everything. It’s packed with books that I’m sure Phillip has never read. There are fancy bookends, limited edition books, and gold trimmed photo frames. Ornaments and fancy sculptures fill every available space and I stare in wonder. Now, if only the books had titles like ‘The Hornets Slutty Hornbag’ then I’d really be impressed. Hell, I might even believe that Phillip had read them.

Reaching through the bookshelf, I gently tap on the expensive wooden backing and listen to its sound. It’s definitely hollow on the opposite side, and just like in the movies, I start pulling on the ornaments and sculptures until I can finally figure it out. “Here,” I tell Marcus as he stands across the big office, searching behind the mahogany desk. “It’s behind here. I just can’t work out how to open it.”

Marcus rushes over and examines the bookshelf with a trained eye, but a gold skull catches mine. Everything else on the shelf is old school, but this is new and shiny, and it definitely doesn’t fit with the rest of the office. Reaching through, I curl my fingers around the skull and try to move it. It’s stuck to the shelf, so instead of tearing the fucker right off, I try twisting, and after turning it just enough that the skull faces the massive window overlooking the manicured gardens, the whole bookshelf falls back.

“What the fuck?” I breathe, my eyes wide as I look over it.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Marcus says, quickly glancing my way with an arched brow, most likely wondering what hidden rooms have been waiting to be discovered in his family home all these years.

Not wasting any more time, Marcus grips the heavy wooden shelf and pushes it back inside the wall. A loud click sounds through the office, and I hear the faint echo on the other side. With the shelf clicked back into place, it slides effortlessly, and a small walkway appears before us.

As if knowing that there’s no way in hell that I’ll be going first, Marcus steps into the dark walkway and I follow closely behind him, not liking the look of this at all.

A set of stairs leads down into the darkness and everything inside of me screams for me to not go down there. I’ve done the whole dungeon cell thing before and it’s really not my jam. There’s only a sliver of light shining past the bookshelf, but beyond that, there’s nothing.

Going against every cell in my body, I move forward, following Marcus into the unknown, and letting my fingers drag along the wall to guide me down the concrete stairs. It smells, but it doesn’t hold the same pungent stench as Giovanni’s basement. This is more like a damp room that hasn’t seen the light of day for years, plus there’s a heavy scent of sex in the air that has my chest tightening with unease.

My fingers brush over something on the wall and I double back, making Marcus pause to watch me over his shoulder. Feeling a switch beneath my fingertip, uncertainty settles through me. This switch could be for anything, but there’s also a good chance that it’s a light.

My face twists with a cringe but the chances of finding Ariana down here without a light is next to none. Letting out a shaky breath, I flip the switch and a dull light spreads through the underground cell and settles the unease pulsing through my stomach.

Marcus sails down the rest of the steps and I quickly follow behind. We hit the bottom, and just as we turn a corner into a wide concrete cell, a metal pole comes hurtling toward Marcus’ head. His hand snaps up with quick reflexes and catches the pole just moments before it would’ve cracked his skull.

“Marc?” Ariana breathes, her eyes wide as her chest rises and falls with quick, panicked movements, assuming we had been Phillip coming back for more.

“Fuck,” Marcus says, throwing the metal pole aside as Ariana drops to the dirty ground, grazing her knees as she begins to sob into her hands, the relief overwhelming her system.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is this?” I ask, glancing past her into the fucked-up little room where Phillip has been keeping her. It’s set up like an old home from the seventies. An old metal frame bed with a flower duvet. There’s even an old-fashioned nightstand with a lamp, which I’m assuming doesn’t work. A small bathroom that offers no privacy and no shower. There’s even a fully stocked dresser with old brushes, hair curlers, and makeup.

Marcus scoffs, kicking the metal pole and sending it halfway across the room. “Apparently, Phillip has some mommy issues,” he mutters as Ariana takes a deep breath and tries to pull herself together.

“Yeah, they’re not his only issues,” I tell him, reaching down to Ariana and grabbing her arm, trying to be gentle, but it’s not like we have all day. “Come on. We need to go.”

I tug hard and am met with resistance as Ariana cries out. “Fucking hell. Stop. Do you think I’m just sitting down here like some fucking damsel waiting for some bitch to come and save me?” she spits, reminding me that she’s not just the woman who saved me from Phillip, but also the woman who set me up with Lucas Miller to be tortured and murdered. “I’m chained.”

My gaze drops and I cringe, finding the ankle cuff and heavy chain that’s bolted to the wall by her bed, giving her just enough space to get around her room, but not giving her the chance to get anywhere near the stairs. “Shit,” I grunt, looking around the room for some kind of way to free her. I should have noticed the chain before, but I was too distracted by the hell hole she’s been living in.

I’m busy searching when Marcus pulls the gun from the waistband of his jeans. “Do you trust me?” he asks Ariana.

Her eyes bug out of her head, reading his intentions and gaping at him as though he’s lost his fucking mind. “Do I trust you?” she shrieks, panic taking over as she holds up her hand that has the angry scarring from when Marcus pinned her to her front door with a knife. “That’s a joke, right?”

Marcus rolls his eyes, not really down for her dramatics after the day he’s had. “What else do you suggest?” he demands, arching a brow at her. “I can either shoot the chains off and hope to fucking God that the bullet doesn’t ricochet and kill me, or I can fucking leave you here. Worst case scenario, I miss and you get a fucking hole in your foot, best case, you get to see the fucking light of day and walk free. Take your pick.”

Ariana quickly shoots her gaze toward me, silently questioning if she should trust him, and I shrug my shoulders. “He managed to pin your hand to the door with that knife from thirty feet away without skipping a damn beat. He’s your best option … your only option.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mutters before bringing her foot forward and looking away.

BANG!

Marcus shoots before Ariana’s head has even completely turned away, and I stare in shock. I’d expected a countdown or something like that, but no, he didn’t even give her the consideration of aiming first. Just shot like there were absolutely no consequences. But when it comes to Marcus DeAngelis, there rarely are, and that’s proven a moment later when the chain snaps under the bullet’s pressure and falls aside.

I suck in a loud gasp as Ariana screams. Her head instantly whips down to her ankle, finding the cuff still tight around her skin but free of her chain. “Fuck,” she breathes wide-eyed.

“Let’s go,” he snaps, not giving her a moment to catch her breath.

He grips my hand and drags me back to the stairs, not giving a shit if she follows or not, but she’s not stupid. She knows an opportunity like this will never come again. She trails behind us, sticking right on my heels in her desperation to get out.

As we reach the top of the stairs and walk back out into the big office, I find myself pulling back on his hand. “Hey,” I say, stopping him in his tracks as Ariana steps around us, hovering close. Marcus looks back at me, his dark eyes meeting mine with hurt. “Are we okay?”

He watches me a moment longer before a softness creeps into his hard exterior, breaking him down. He steps back into me, resting his hand at my waist. “Yeah,” he finally says. “It’s one thing seeing you with Levi. That started off slowly and I had time to prepare, but Roman. He went balls to the fucking wall and claimed you in a way that Levi and I just can’t seem to do.”

My brows furrow and I shake my head. “What are you talking about? It was just sex. There’s nothing more there.”

He shakes his head. “I ain’t talking about the sex, babe. The fact that you got through to him like that, made him see reason and calm down when his whole fucking world is caving in on him. He’s going to try and take you for himself, and you’ll be so fucking blinded by it that you’ll go willingly.”

I push up onto my tippy toes and rest my hand against his warm cheek, hating that my actions today have made him doubt the way I feel for him. “That will never happen,” I murmur, brushing my lips against his. “It’s not possible because a life without you by my side isn’t a life worth living.”

He pulls back to look directly into my eyes. “Promise?”

I nod as a smile tears across my face. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Marcus grips my chin and draws me back in to kiss me deeply, making butterflies swarm through my stomach. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

20

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“FUCK,” I screech, throwing myself out of bed, wide-eyed and panting. My heart races as I peer around, trying to find the threat. My frantic glare lands on the big asshole sitting across the room, looking guilty as shit with his hands paused mid-air over his drum set.

“Shit, did I wake you?” Levi questions as the single light from his private bathroom sets a spotlight over him and his drum set.

“Did you wake me?” I shriek, the sarcasm thick in my tone. “Yes, you freaking woke me. What the hell are you doing? It’s …” I lean across his massive, super-king mattress and hit the home button on his phone, lighting it up to check the time. “It’s 3:00 am! What the ever-loving fuck, Levi?”

Levi cringes and his whole face scrunches, making him appear like a guilty little kid who just got caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. “Sorry, little one,” he says. “I was trying to be quiet.”

“Trying to be quiet,” I huff under my breath as I rub at my tired, sleep deprived eyes. “They’re drums. They don’t come equipped with a silent mode. You bang them, and they go BOOM! Every time.”

He tilts his head forward and looks up at me through his thick row of long lashes and gives me the most innocent, but guilty expression that has me immediately cursing myself for bitching him out. “Whoops,” he says, putting the drum sticks together and gently placing them down. “I’ll stop. I just couldn’t sleep and my hands were twitching to play. Honestly, I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve played a few times through the night and you’ve just slept through it. I figured tonight would have been the same.”

“You play while I sleep and I just lay there?”

A wicked grin pulls at the corner of his warm lips, and as his eyes sparkle, I prepare myself for whatever’s about to come out of his mouth. “Damn straight I do,” he says, “that cute little heavy breathing thing you do works as the perfect beat for a count of eight.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “You’re lying.”

He shakes his head and my cheeks flame with embarrassment. “Wish I was.”

Levi moves to come back to bed and I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Stay and play. I’m awake now. It’s not like I’m going to get back to sleep anyway. I was having shitty dreams about being locked up in your father’s dungeon cells again.”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes softening and filling with pain, hating the shit I’ve been through at his father’s hands. “Did you want me to come and hold you?”

My heart warms, loving how much he cares for me. It’s a complete contrast to the man I met when I first got here. I never would have thought this kind-hearted, caring man was buried deep inside of him, but I’m so glad that it was, because now he’s someone I could never imagine my life without. What’s with these DeAngelis men ruining me for other men? I’ll never be able to go back to the life I had before them. “Nah,” I tell him, a soft smile pulling at my lips. “I kinda just want to lay here and watch you play. You always look so at peace when it’s just you and your music.”

“Sure?”

I nod and he hesitates for a moment before finally scooping up his drumsticks and holding them down against the drum. He moves them slowly on the kit, dragging the tip across the top of it and creating the softest hum throughout the room. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are when you’re sleeping?”

“Should I be creeped out about the serial killer watching me while I sleep?”

He brings the tip of the stick out and taps it gently against the drum. “Always,” he says, his eyes hooded as his heavy stare lingers on me.

He starts a slow beat and I push myself up against the headboard, leaning back against its soft cushioning. “Was something on your mind?” I ask him, hating that he’s having trouble sleeping.

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing important,” he says. “Just picturing the way Roman fucked you today. I didn’t like it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re the most precious thing to me,” he says over the sound of his drums, “and you should be treated as such.”

A grin pulls at my lips and he rolls his eyes before the words have even come out of my mouth. “I seem to recall more than a few times where you’ve fucked me just as hard. I probably still have bruises in the shape of your fingers littered across my skin. I might be precious to you, but that doesn’t mean I’m fragile, and you know it.”

“I know,” he grumbles.

“You’re not … jealous, are you? Seeing me with Roman …”

Levi scrunches up his face and shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve told you before that I’m cool with it. I just don’t like seeing him take advantage of you like that.”

“And if I told you that I encouraged it, and that while he was using me to forget the monsters inside his head, I was also using him right back.”

A grin cuts across his lips as he picks up the beat on his drums, his foot gently bouncing with the bass. “Then I’d say that I should have known better.”

I relax into the cushioned headboard and let the conversation fall silent between us, wanting nothing more than to zone out and listen to his sweet music, only watching the way his muscles flex and bulge with each hit of the drum has me paying far more attention than I intended. Everything about him draws me in—the body, the tattoos, the deep, growly tone, and that fucking smirk that makes everything clench deep inside of me. Levi DeAngelis is something special. He’s like a drug that I simply can’t get enough of.

I watch him a moment longer, my greedy eyes sailing over his strong body, and the longer I watch him, the hotter I get. My bottom lip catches between my teeth as he increases the tempo of his beat, and his eyes … goddamn it! His eyes are full of fire, watching the way that I watch him. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how he does it. Have I always been attracted to drummers or is it just Levi?

My hand falls to my collarbone, trailing little circles over my skin, and hell, I don’t even realize I’m doing it. My hand slowly trails down my body, between my tits, and over my stomach. I suck in a breath as the soft brush of my nails send a wave of tingles sailing over my skin, and before I know it, my hand slips below the blanket and slowly brushes over my clit.

A breathy groan pulls from between my lips as I circle my clit, my eyes becoming hooded as I watch the erotic sight before me. My hand sinks lower and I push two fingers into my cunt, instantly feeling that soft ache, reminding me exactly where Roman had been only twenty-four hours ago. My fingers move in and out, matching the beat of Levi’s drums and feeling just how wet and ready I am for him, but judging by the dark, intense look in his eyes, he’ll be staying right where he is, more than intent on watching the show.

My lip comes free from the confines of my teeth, and Levi shakes his head as a low growl tears from deep in his chest. “Bite that fucking lip again,” he scolds me, his tone deeper than I’ve ever heard it.

I obey right away, biting my bottom lip as my fingers brush past my clit again and force another soft moan out of me. “Shit, Levi,” I breathe, my body already so worked up by just the mere sight of him playing his drums.

“Pull those blankets back, Shayne,” he murmurs, the sound of his voice sailing right through my chest and making my pussy clench. “Let me see you.”

Wanting him to appreciate the moment just as much as I am, I peel the blanket back and a cold rush of air brushes against my soaking cunt, making me jump as a soft gasp slips through my lips. My fingers keep moving, slipping in and out, and just to make sure he gets the full X-rated version, I spread my legs even wider and adjust my hips to show him absolutely everything.

He picks up the beat of his drums and I follow suit, knowing all too well that despite him being across the room, he controls my every move.

“Take my glass from the bedside table,” he instructs.

My brows pinch together as I quickly glance to his side table to find a half empty glass of something, and not wanting to disappoint, I reach across and curl my fingers around the cool glass. I watch him expectantly, more than ready to play along with whatever game he’s wanting to play.

“Drink it.”

Swallowing hard, I bring the glass to my lips while keeping my fingers slowly moving in and out of me while my thumb moves up to circle my clit. I breathe in the brown liquid and decide that it’s bourbon as I tip it up, the condensation from the bottom of the glass dripping onto my bare tits and slowly trailing down my body, catching every little bit of Levi’s attention.

Drinking what’s left of the bourbon, I lower the glass and meet his heated stare once again. “Take an ice cube,” he tells me.

Fire burns through me in the most delicious way, remembering the first time he’d touched me. He’d teased me with an ice cube until finally pushing it inside of me, and damn it, I’m so here for round two.

A grin pulls at my lips as my gaze darkens, loving the way he watches me. “Now what?” I purr, holding the ice cube between my fingers and letting the chilled water drip over my body.

“Play.”

One word is all he needs.

I bring the ice down to my body, slowly trailing it over my collar bone and down to my breast. The ice melts quickly beneath the warmth of my skin, and as I circle my nipple, it quickly pebbles, desperate for Levi’s touch. When my skin starts to burn beneath its cold touch, I trail it down further, groaning as the water pools and runs, messing the sheets beneath me.

I suck in a gasp as I trail the ice over my stomach and jolt the further I go, making my pussy clench around my fingers. I try to keep to Levi’s beat on the drums, but the ice is distracting me in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.

I push it further down, squirming under the chill, and as it finally makes contact with my clit, I suck in a deep gasp, briefly closing my eyes and tipping my head back. “Oh fuck,” I whisper, sliding it over my clit in tight little circles.

Needing something more, I lower the ice further until I can finally push it into my pussy, gasping as the ice moves inside of me. I slowly push my fingers back in, nudging it further and groaning with delight. I can’t help but squirm as Levi watches me, determined to come before the ice completely melts.

My fingers keep the ice moving within me and my other hand comes back to my clit, teasing it with quick little circles until my body can’t possibly take anymore.

Levi’s tongue rolls over his bottom lip, and the hunger in his eyes is enough to push me right over the edge. I come hard, crying out Levi’s name as my pussy clenches around my fingers, melting the last of the ice. My walls spasm wildly as my orgasm pulses right through my body. My toes curl and I groan low, biting down on my lip once again.

Too intense to keep going, my fingers pause inside of me, needing to come down from my high. I take a few deep breaths as my body finally begins to relax, and just when I think it’s over, Levi stands from his drum, throwing his sticks down.

He strides toward me, palming his massive cock through his shorts as a grin tears across his face, his eyes warning me that the ice was only a warmup. “Spread those fucking legs, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m hungry.”

Sneaking through the halls of a massive mansion is a lot harder than it sounds, especially when you have hot cum leaking out of you and trailing down the side of your leg. I duck into the nearest bathroom, grumbling to myself as a soft hue rests against the massive window, telling me the sun is just about to make an appearance.

I can’t say that a night of sex was really on the agenda when I went to bed last night, but I’m not going to complain … well, only about the cum dripping down my leg. That’s unfortunate, but to be fair, Levi offered to help clean me up as I scooted out of bed, but I insisted that he get some sleep. Hell, I even switched off his bathroom light and slipped out of his room just to give him the silence he needs.

Getting myself cleaned up, I tiptoe back toward my room, not wanting to wake anyone, but as I pass the massive stairs that lead down to the foyer, Ariana’s familiar tone breaks through the silence. “I swear,” she murmurs, trying to keep her voice low, but in such a big open space, concealing a tone like hers is nearly impossible. “I just want to get out of here.”

My brows furrow and I creep toward the edge of the stairs and peer down into the foyer below, finding Ariana with a Louis Vuitton suitcase and a passport in her hands. Roman stands in front of her, his jaw clenched and betrayal deep in his eyes. “You fucking hear me, Ariana,” he says. “If you ever come back here, I will destroy you. That’s a promise.”

She shakes her head. “Come with me,” she says. “It was always supposed to be just you and me. We can get far away from all of this shit and start fresh. That girl isn’t good enough for you. She’s just a little bitch who likes getting off. She’s a whore, and you know it. Just come with me. We can make it work.”

I clench my jaw. She was so close to earning just a little bit of respect from me until she had to go and ruin it. Even after everything she’s been through, she still can’t figure out where she’s going wrong.

I roll my eyes. I had started to feel sorry for her. It was a long drive back here and she spent most of it curled in a ball. Roman even sat in the back and allowed her the smallest comfort of sitting by her as she sobbed, mentally replaying everything she’d been through since Giovanni first took her. So yeah, I felt for her. I even considered sitting her down and offering her a tea or coffee and a chance to talk it all out to help move past the haunting memories, but to hell with it now. If she wants to keep being a back-stabbing bitch, then that’s on her.

Roman laughs, the amusement crossing his face until he realizes that she’s serious. His smile fades away and he pulls back from her. “You’re fucking kidding, right? I would rather dig my own eyes out with a rusty switchblade than let you claw your way back into my life. You’re leaving right fucking now and never coming back. Forget you ever knew me.”

“Roman, no,” she says, panic thick in her tone. “Don’t do this to us. We have so much history. How can you just throw that away? You were the first man I ever loved. The only man. Please.”

Feeling as though this is getting far too personal, I go to walk away, but the slight movement has Roman’s gaze shifting to me. He holds my stare for a moment before dropping it back to Ariana’s, and for one blazing second, a rush of memories come flooding back, each of them forcing me to clench my thighs.

“I wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last woman on earth, not even for a quick fuck. I’ve moved on,” he says, his gaze quickly sailing up to mine again before dropping back to the woman who stabbed the knife straight through his chest. “You and I were over a long time ago. Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”

Roman steps toward the door, gripping the handle and tearing it wide, allowing the cool morning breeze to violently slam upon her, blowing her hair back off her face. Roman doesn’t say another word as she tries to capture his stare, but he refuses and allows a bored expression to rest over his face.

The seconds tick by and being completely out of options, she lets out a pained cry and walks out the door, dragging her Louis Vuitton behind her. The moment she clears the threshold, Roman slams the door with a loud BANG and steps aside to watch her from the window, making sure she goes.

Minutes tick by until I hear the subtle sound of a car, and not a moment later, Ariana hits the gas and takes off, hopefully to never return again.

Certain that she’s out of our lives forever, Roman turns back to face me, his deep stare lingering on my blue eyes, then all too soon, he tears his gaze away, turns on his heel, and walks away.

21

My mouth barely fits around my burger as I struggle to take a bite. I don’t know why I made it this freaking big, but there were just too many options. What can I say? I’m a girl who likes a little bit of everything … or maybe a lot.

Sauce dribbles out the bottom and I try to catch it before it can make a mess all over the marble floors, but naturally, coordinating myself, a burger, and a spill at the same time is like building a rocket ship and learning how to fly the stupid thing.

Juice spills right down the front of my cropped tank, and as I try to avoid fucking it up even more, the essence of the burger falls straight out the bottom. “No, no, no, no, no,” I shriek, as the meat patty splatters on the ground in a mix of tomato, lettuce, and cucumber, leaving me holding nothing but the empty burger bun.

My heart aches as I stare down at what was supposed to be the burger of a lifetime. I even drizzled the sauce just right. “Clean up on aisle twelve,” I call. “Dill? Doe? Where are you big bastards?”

At the sound of their names, the enormous jet-black wolves barrel through the mansion, the clicking of their claws on the marble floor sounds through the house, telling me exactly where they are. Their big wolfy asses come hurtling around the corner and bounding toward me.

Seeing the mess of food on the ground, their pace picks up and my eyes bug out of my head. They’re going too fast. “Fuck,” I panic, not even allowing myself the chance to fuss over the way Dill is running at full speed, despite the fact that he’s still supposed to be taking it easy. “Slow down. SLOW DOWN!”

Dill’s tongue lolls out of his mouth and I remember who the fuck I’m yelling at. There’s no slowing these big bastards down. It’s either get out of their way or risk being trampled.

Getting closer to the mess of burger, the wolves hit the brakes, underestimating their speed, and sliding right along the polished marble, barreling straight past the burger and into my legs before I can make a full escape. A piercing shriek tears out of me as we turn into a mess of limbs on the ground. I narrowly miss slamming into the opposite wall as the wolves immediately get back up and pounce on the burger as though they didn’t even realize that my life just flashed before my eyes.

I flip both of them off before crawling across to the massive window and reaching up to grip the small ledge so that I can haul myself up, only as I reach the window and stretch up, a flash of movement catches my attention. My head whips around, gaping out at the long driveway to where three big black vans are pulling up.

Panic tears through me as my eyes widen with fear. “UMMMMM, GUYS,” I holler through the big house, yanking myself up off the ground and racing through the house to where I’d last seen Marcus. “WE HAVE VISITORS.”

I get as far as the front foyer when I find all three of the boys barreling toward me, their sharp gazes sailing over me before landing on the front entryway windows. They peer out to see the black vans while I silently panic.

“Fuck,” Roman grunts under his breath, probably irritated with himself that all four of us had missed the vans coming through the front gates, but the only way they could have gotten in was if they knew the code.

“Who is it?” I rush out as Marcus doubles back to grip my hand, pulling me away in some ridiculous bid to keep me safe from whatever threat is about to come barging through the door.

He shakes his head. “I’ve got no fucking idea, but from my experience, a van ain’t good. Bringing three of them … now that’s just showing off.”

“What?” I breathe, my eyes bulging out of my head as Levi settles into the corner of the big floor-to-ceiling window and pulls the gun from the back of his pants, giving him the perfect vantage point to take out any threats.

He watches them for a moment, his back straightening as the drivers get out of the vans and make their way to the back. Levi’s brows furrow, watching them carefully as Roman prepares an onslaught of weapons. “Something doesn’t feel right,” Levi mutters, “I don’t think this is an ambush.”

Roman scoffs, still preparing the weapons. “You really want to take that risk?” he questions, giving his younger brother a hard stare.

Levi shakes his head. “I’m ready to go either way. I just don’t think it is what we’re all thinking,” he comments, turning his gaze back to the window. “They’re opening the back of the first van.”

A silence fills the foyer and Marcus immediately pushes me out of the room again, but there’s no way in hell that I’m going anywhere. I’m staying with the boys, right where I can see them at all times. I’ve had way too much bad luck on my own. “Would you stop fighting me?” Marcus spits.

“Then stop pushing me,” I fire back at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His jaw clenches, the sharp set of his cheekbones only making him look like a fucking demon right out of a nightmare. “I’m not fucking around, Shayne.”

“Neither am I.”

“Wait …” Levi says slowly, his brows drawn as his tone has Roman easing up on the weapon. Hell, he even stops what he’s doing to glance up at his brother. “It looks like some kind of delivery.”

“Delivery?” Roman grunts, before turning a glaring gaze on Marcus. “What the fuck did you order?”

Marcus’ hands fly up, his instincts to defend himself freeing me from being pushed into some small, dirty hallway cupboard. “I didn’t order anything,” he shoots back at Roman, his tone filled with offense at being blamed for whatever the fuck is going on here. “It was probably Ariana weeks ago before she got ran out. You know how she liked to indulge in her credit cards.”

Roman watches Marcus for a long moment before finally glancing back at Levi. “What is it?”

Levi’s stare remains out the window, his brows furrowing further by the second. “I … I think they’re decorations.”

“Decorations?” Marcus questions, his hand curling around mine and keeping me close as he trails closer to the nearest window to get a quick look. We peer out into the driveway to find the back of all three vans wide open and a total of six men in matching uniforms hauling shit out of the vans. “The fuck is going on?”

Roman creeps in closer, moving in behind me and peering out over my head, his brows drawn with a fierce suspicion as he shoves the gun in his hand back into the waistband of his jeans. “I have no fucking idea.”

Marcus turns to glance at his brothers, a stupid grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “Not it,” he says in a chirpy singsong tone making Levi rush in just a moment later. “Yeah, I’m out too,” he says, meeting Roman’s hard stare. “This one is all yours, brother.”

Roman sighs and takes another look out the window. “As if I’d trust you assholes to take care of this in the first place.” And with that, he walks across the foyer and tears open the front door, his back taut and still prepared for a threat.

I find myself creeping closer and closer to the door until I eventually stand right at Roman’s side, all to his dismay. He subtly reaches out and pushes my body half behind his before shooting me an irritated glare, but hell, after I allowed him to use and abuse my body like his own personal play toy the other day, I have got a newfound ability to get away with whatever the hell I want. Though, I don’t doubt it comes with an expiration date.

Realizing that I’m not about to scurry away, Roman turns his attention back to the six men at the bottom of the stairs. “Can I help you?” he says, his tone sailing right down to them as clearly as if he’d been standing right behind them.

One guy stops what he’s doing and turns to glance up at Roman, shielding his eyes from the hot afternoon sun. “Where do you want this stuff?”

“I don’t fucking want it,” Roman shoots back. “What’s going on here? We didn’t order any of this.”

The guy stares at him blankly, his brows drawing down before he glances at some other dude stacking a bunch of chairs onto a wide trolley. “Aye, he says he didn’t order this shit.”

The trolley guy pauses and glances up at Roman before letting out a frustrated sigh and digging papers out of his pocket. He glances over them. “Are you Giovanni DeAngelis?” he questions, blocking out the sun just as his colleague had. “It says something about an annual party. We have ongoing instructions to be here on this date every year.”

A moment passes before Roman’s murmured “Ah, fuck,” fills the airs around us.

Marcus and Levi appear in the doorway as the delivery guys stare up at us, impatiently waiting to be told what to do. “The fuck is going on?” Marcus questions as Roman turns to meet his brother’s confused stare.

“It’s that stupid DeAngelis annual ball Ariana had Father start a few years back. That was supposed to be tonight,” he says, clearly having figured out what the fuck this is all about.

Marcus scoffs. “Like fuck we’re going ahead with that shit,” he says, looking down at the delivery men and indicating to the piles of shit they’ve started unloading. “Pack it all up. We don’t need it. The only balls I’ll be showing up for are the ones between my legs.”

A laugh catches in my throat and I immediately choke on my own air while Marcus slaps a helpful hand into the center of my back. “You good, babe?”

“Hold up. Don’t pack up anything just yet,” Levi says, holding his hands out and stopping the delivery guys before anyone can make any hasty decisions. He glances at his brothers. “Everyone comes to this fucking ball. All the cousins and their wives. It’d be the perfect opportunity to stake our claim as the new leaders of this family.”

Roman looks thoughtful for a moment before turning his gaze to Marcus. “Plus, it’s a good chance to figure out what’s being said, see where loyalties lie.”

“Not to mention,” Levi throws in. “Tensions are riding high. Someone is bound to break and send someone else to an early grave. We couldn’t possibly skip out on prime-time entertainment like that.”

Marcus sighs. “Seriously? You know how those fucking suits make my balls sweat.”

I look up at Marcus. “Twice. That’s twice! How does someone bring up their balls twice in such a short time?”

Levi’s brows arch in consideration. “It’s really not that hard,” he tells me. “Now talking about someone else’s balls in such a short time without coming across as batting for the other side is where it gets a little tricky.”

“You talk about other men’s balls often?”

Levi laughs, his lips kicking up into a ridiculous smirk. “You’d be shocked at how often the topic comes up.”

Roman shakes his head, irritation flaring in his obsidian eyes. “Can we get back to the fucking ball?” he demands. “Are we doing it or not?”

Marcus shrugs his shoulders and lets out a heavy sigh just as another van pulls into the top of the driveway that says something about ‘Delight Catering’ on the side. “Are either of you going to spend the next few hours calling everyone to let them know it’s canceled? Because I’m not,” he says, knowing damn well that they won’t be doing it either. “People are going to show up whether we want them to or not. We might as well go ahead with it and use it to our advantage.”

Roman nods in complete agreement. “Then it’s settled,” he says, glancing down at the delivery drivers. “Start unloading and make it quick. I don’t want anyone in my house any longer than necessary.”

They immediately get to work and the four of us trail back inside, leaving the front door wide open while the catering company has the brains to drive right around back to the staff kitchen entrance. They let themselves in and get busy while I gape at the boys. “A ball?” I question. “What the hell am I supposed to wear to a ball?”

Marcus grins. “You’ve seen that massive collection Ariana has upstairs, right?” he says before pulling out a black AMEX card and handing it over. “But if none of them are doing it for you, buy one of your own and have it delivered.”

I stare at the gold card, never having seen one of these in the flesh. I gape up at him, knowing damn well that every dress in Ariana’s collection is more than my style, but the thought of getting something specifically for me is already making my dark heart brighten with excitement. Besides, Ariana’s collection is just that. They’re her dresses and I’ll never feel comfortable wearing them. “Do I … do I have a limit?” I ask, the excitement bubbling up in my stomach and making it impossible to stand still.

Marcus laughs and shakes his head. “You’ve seen the weapons collection we have, right?” he smirks. “Do we really look like the type of guys who worry about budgeting? Get what you want, babe. This ball is about showing off our new queen, not just getting intel. Make a fucking lasting impression.”

When Roman or Levi don’t bother to rein in Marcus’ wild suggestion, I grip onto the card just a little tighter and run for my fucking life before they have the brains to reel me in.

The soft, shimmering moonlight shines in through my bedroom window, hitting my back as I watch myself through the big floor-to-ceiling mirror. It creates a glow around me like some kind of halo that makes me feel even more incredible than I already do.

The boys agreed to let me hire a hair stylist and makeup artist for the day and even went as far as hiring a masseur to pamper me. It has literally been the best day of my life, but when my gown was hand delivered in a big white box with a big gold bow, my world imploded in the best possible way.

I’ve never been treated like this in my whole life. I feel like a princess, and a part of me still struggles to believe that this is my new reality. Fuck spending my day working behind a dirty bar for shitty tips. I don't ever want to go back to that old life.

My gaze travels down my gold, beaded Versace gown in awe. I spent two hours scouring every corner of the internet for the perfect dress when I finally came upon Kate Hudson’s 2003 red carpet Versace gown, and I had to have it … or at least something similar. It’s so simple and elegant, perfect for tonight. When I first started looking at gowns, I wanted something dark and edgy, something to draw from that dark corrupted part of my soul, but this gown ultimately won out. The second I laid my eyes on it, I knew it was right.

Naturally, apart from spilling out credit card numbers, I had no idea how to pull the type of strings to get the gown I wanted, but Levi stepped in and proved that he was so much more than just a devil between the sheets, and three hours later, it’s here.

The gown flows down into a small train, and I’m surprised to see just how heavy it is. I can’t say that I’ve ever worn a proper gown before. I had that silk gown the boys put me in when I arrived and another dress I wore here to a business meeting. They were gorgeous dresses, but this isn’t anything like those occasions. This shit here is the real deal.

My hair is up off my back in gorgeous curls that have been arranged into the most stunning up-do that had me in tears. My makeup has been crafted to perfection with smokey eyes and just a hint of gold, and God, the lashes. I’ve never worn false lashes but now they’re my obsession.

I kept a natural lip with just a hint of gloss, not wanting to go overboard with the makeup to keep the attention on the gown, and damn it, it’s everything I hoped it would be.

Nerves settle in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t eaten anything since my burger went splat on the marble floors, but now I’m thinking that I should have made time to eat … or maybe I just need a drink. There are going to be a lot of people here tonight, all of the boys’ extended family, all of whom I couldn’t care if they lived or died, but I still want to make a good impression. The boys are in the middle of claiming the DeAngelis Mafia Family as their own, and they need to make tonight count. A single hint of weakness and they’ll have the masses coming for them with pitchforks and fires.

A light rap sounds at the door before Marcus pushes his way into my room. “Babe, you ready?” he questions, raising his head and stopping dead in his tracks as his dark gaze trails over me. “Holy fuck,” he breathes as my gaze trails over the way he wears his suit, looking like he just stepped straight out of Serial Killers United Magazine. He’s in all black, but I didn’t expect anything different, and despite knowing exactly what he was going to wear, it still doesn’t fail to take my breath away. He’s absolutely perfect.

A soft blush creeps over my cheeks as I look up at him through my long, thick lashes. “Do you like it?” I question nervously, the moonlight shining through the window going a long way to making this moment feel even more magical.

“Do I like it?” he scoffs, offended by the question. He slinks through my room slowly, each step making my heart race just a little bit faster until he moves right in front of me and brushes the backs of his knuckles down the length of my arm, his tone softening to a light whisper. “You look like a fucking angel here to steal the hearts out of every man you come across. You’re a fucking goddess.”

I step into him, placing my hand against his chest as the moment wraps around me. Immediately getting lost in his dark eyes, I brush my glossy lips over his. “I love you, Marcus DeAngelis.”

His hand falls to my waist, holding me tighter. “Damn right, you do,” he murmurs against my lips. “Now let me show you off to the fucking world before I change my mind and keep you locked in here for myself.”

“Well then,” I murmur, a smile resting on my lips as my hand falls into his. “Who am I to deprive the masses of my beauty? Let’s go.”

22

My six-inch stiletto heels click against the expensive marble floors as Marcus leads me out of my room and through the mansion fit for a queen. Soft music fills the property and a wave of murmured chatter comes from the level below.

People started showing up half an hour ago, and while a good host would be there to welcome guests at the door, I couldn’t quite bring myself to be the first at the party. Besides, if I intend to do this right, then I need to make my grand entrance count, and what better way to do that than by walking in with Marcus DeAngelis on my arm.

It’s a perfect night as we walk toward the massive staircase. I glance out through the windows at the front of the house. The place is lit up like a damn Christmas tree and has butterflies emerging deep in my stomach. Cars litter the property, waiting in long lines and pulling up at the top of the circle drive. Guests pour out in dazzling suits and gowns that take my breath away. They make their way up the grand staircase and their cars are driven away by the valet service that I’m sure Giovanni paid handsomely for.

Marcus guides me to the top step, and as my heel touches down and I gaze over the lingering guests making their way through the foyer, already with champagne flutes in their hands, my brows begin to pinch together. “I thought this was the annual DeAngelis Family Ball,” I murmur, holding onto Marcus’ strong arm to keep from tumbling down the stairs. “Who are all these people?”

“Would you believe it if I told you they were all here because DeAngelis blood runs through their veins?” he questions, his gaze sweeping across to mine with a mischievous sparkle that has me doubting every last word that comes out of his mouth.

“That’s impossible,” I say, keeping my low tone. “There must be hundreds of people here.”

“Correct,” he says, his hand dropping to my lower back. “My guess would be this party is pushing four hundred guests, each one of them an integral member of this family. Cousins, their children, uncles, wives, grandparents—every version of extended family you can think of, and I can guarantee they are all here tonight. Apart from my father, of course. Though, he will hear all about whatever happens within these walls, I have no doubt.”

My gaze narrows and I slow my stride. “Your grandparents? Like the very people who raised your father? You’re lying.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he says, pulling me along. “There are generations of DeAngelis men and women here tonight. Generations past, present, and future. It’s the FBI’s version of a wet dream.”

“Well, shit.”

We hit the bottom step and a waiter immediately offers us a drink off a silver platter and Marcus scoops it up without hesitation and throws back every last drop. “Too fucking right,” he says, his actions speaking much louder than his words. He places the empty glass back down and replaces it with two new ones, handing me one before taking a sip of his own.

Marcus leads me through the massive property, and as we get closer to the wide entrance, the chatter from within seems to get louder. The music drowns out most of it, but as more and more guests begin arriving, I can only imagine just how loud and eventful tonight will be.

We reach the main doors as a giddy nervousness settles into my veins, forcing me to grip Marcus just a little tighter. The impulsive need to kick off these ridiculous shoes and sprint back to my room slams through me, and as if reading me like a fucking book, Marcus drags me through the doors and I’m immediately overcome with awe.

The room dazzles me with a crystal chandelier framed by gorgeous silk drapes, becoming the masterpiece of the night. I’ve only been in this room once or twice and only because I was lost, but I could have sworn that the chandelier wasn’t here before. I can only imagine how much that big bastard must have cost, but apparently, money isn’t an issue when you’re the most feared man in the country.

Tall pillars surround the room and are frosted with the most delicate lights that make the room glow. Hell, it looks freaking heavenly in here, but the men that fill the room are anything but.

Stealing my gaze from the impressive decorations and forcing myself not to ask how the hell this was all pulled together so quickly, I focus on the guests, unnerved by the way each and every eye seems to flicker my way. Before I get a chance to question Marcus, he finishes what’s left in his glass, making it two in a matter of minutes. Placing the glass down on the waiter’s tray by the door, he drops his hand over mine at his elbow and pulls me along. I lower my gaze from all the guests who watch me like a hawk, wondering how the hell a nobody like me could be so special to gain the attention of all three of the famous DeAngelis brothers.

My gaze sweeps lower, needing to have drunk a little more to brave meeting their eyes. So instead, I take in their gowns, and it takes me only a second to realize that every last gown in this ballroom is as black as Marcus’ soul.

My eyes widen and I pull back on his arm, a soft gasp pulling from between my lips. “They’re all in black,” I shriek quietly. “What the fuck, Marc? Is there a dress code?”

“Damn fucking straight there is,” he tells me, his gaze dropping down the gorgeous gold gown perfectly draped over my body, hugging it like a second skin. “You wanted to make an impression, didn’t you?”

A wicked grin tears across my lips and I realize that I’m going to need a shit load more than just a glass of champagne to get me through the night. Taking a page out of Marcus’ book, I bring the champagne flute to my glossy lips and tip it back, downing every last drop before handing off the glass. “That was a risky move,” I warn him. “Each one of the women in this room are currently painting a target on my back, and I can guarantee you that every last one of them thinks I’m an arrogant bitch with an ego too big for my own good.”

“And I hope they do,” he tells me. “These women are the ones keeping their husbands’ beds warm, and they’re going to be the ones whispering in their ears telling their sorry husbands exactly what they think of you, and even though their words will be spiteful and full of hate, their husbands will come away with one thing.”

Marcus pauses and gives me a hard stare, making me want to wring his neck for stopping there. “Seriously?” I grumble. “Is this supposed to be some kind of dramatic pause?”

Marc grins, his eyes lighting with excitement. “They’ll come away knowing that you’re dangerous. Any woman who can ruffle the feathers of a Mafia wife, is a woman to watch out for.”

I’m just about to tell him how stupid a move like that was when a dark gaze meets mine across the room and the breath is knocked right out of my chest. Levi stands with his big frame directly in front of one of the many floor-to-ceiling windows, the soft glow from the moonlight casting a halo around him. He talks with a man in a suit that looks like it cost more than I made in a year, but Levi completely zones out, watching me as though I’m every single one of his dreams.

A flush spreads over my cheeks, and as his gaze sweeps over my body, I’m hit with the overwhelming need to run to him. My thighs clench and I want to hate myself for being so obvious. He has such a profound effect on me, it’s too much. I hate it, but at the same time, I absolutely love it.

The man beside him continues to speak animatedly about who the fuck knows what, and it’s clear from the way I hold every ounce of Levi’s attention that he has absolutely no idea either.

A smile tugs at my lips and a shyness comes over me, one that I shouldn’t have considering the filthy things that man has watched me do. His intensity becomes too much, and I drop my gaze away, only to find Marcus’ heated stare. “He’s right, you know. You look like a fucking wet dream.”

Pressing into Marcus, I drop my hand to his wide chest and glance over my shoulder at Levi, knowing he’s watching my lips and reading every last word that comes spilling from them. “Then the second this party is over, the two of you better show me how much you appreciate this dress.”

Levi’s eyes flash with desire as a soft growl vibrates through Marcus’ chest, rumbling against my fingers. “Consider it done.”

A thrill fires through me, but it’s short-lived as guests stop to greet Marcus, each one of them approaching cautiously. His reputation in this world goes far and wide. I don’t miss the way he positions me slightly ahead of him, forcing me to take the brunt of the attention, which inadvertently means the kind of leering I don’t want. I meet great uncles, cousins that I never knew existed, cousins of those cousins, and aunties. Hell, I’m almost positive that Marcus doesn’t know who most of these people are, but there’s no doubt that they’re all family. The DeAngelis genes are strong here. Dark hair and dark eyes, except all the wives who seem to be at least twenty years younger with fake tits, manicured nails, and hair so full of bleach, it could start a fire.

Fights break out and everyone goes on about their night as though they don’t even see it. The music subtly gets louder as Marcus presses another drink into my hand before he swooshes me around the room to show me off like a fucking star.

At least an hour passes before we’ve done the rounds, and I’m positive that after meeting at least a hundred different people, I don’t remember a single name.

Roman breaks away from an older gentleman who looks an awful lot like an older version of Giovanni, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s Grandpa DeAngelis. Roman’s eyes are hard and cautious, watching every last person in the room with suspicion, and I can’t help but wonder what they all think of us. Are we some kind of sideshow, thinking we can slip straight into Giovanni’s position without consequences?

Grandpa DeAngelis keeps his back to us as he swirls the brown liquid in the middle of his glass and finishes it before slamming it down on a nearby table. He holds his head up and hightails it straight for the exit. “What the fuck was that about?” Marcus questions as we all meet in the middle, hovering over a table.

Roman clenches his jaw, glancing at the exit to make sure he’s going. “He had a few things to say and let it be known that he didn’t appreciate us running Father out like that. So I told him he can either get on board or fuck off. I’d be more than happy to put his body in the ground.”

“Shit,” Levi says, making me jump as he moves in from behind me with a drink in hand. He places it down on the table and a ring of condensation instantly forms around it. “He’s not going to appreciate that.”

“He can suck my dick,” Roman mutters. “He’s been in Father’s ear for far too long, pulling his strings like a goddamn puppeteer, but not anymore. Both of them can go to hell.”

I pick up Levi’s drink and take a sip before putting it straight back down, the foul taste practically burning a hole through my tongue. “You guys aren’t a big fan of your grandfather?”

“Hell no,” Marcus says, his tone darkening and sending a wave of unease over me. “The old fuck was the one to give me my first black eye. I was only five.”

I gape up at him, anger swirling deep in my stomach as the need to race after the bastard and gouge his eyes out slams through me like hot acid. Only, I don’t get a chance to even whine about it before a wicked grin settles over Roman’s lips. “Well I’ll be fucking damned,” he says, amusement thick in his tone as he watches the door. “The asshole found a set of balls after all.”

My brows furrow as I turn to look at the door and find Louis standing at the entrance, one hand on his wife’s lower back, the other reaching for a drink. He doesn’t bother getting a drink for his wife, and as he strides deeper into the room, I feel a sickening tension thickening in the air. “This isn’t good.”

“Nah,” Marcus laughs, watching the way Victor’s remaining four sons seem to pause and watch him like a hawk, their hands slowly reaching for their guns as every last guest in the room discreetly moves aside, determined not to be collateral damage if this turns ugly. “This is what I call entertainment.”

I roll my eyes and watch closely. Victor was only killed a few nights ago, and from the soft whispers I’ve heard throughout the night, all fingers are pointing to Louis, assuming it was payback for murdering his only son, and damn it, the hard set of his jaw proves it. If only these fuckers knew that both Antonio’s and Victor’s blood is on our hands … hell, Ronaldo’s technically is too. Though we weren’t the ones to pull the trigger there. Though, I have to give it to Louis, he hasn’t lashed out yet. He’s been cool, calm, and collected as he bides his time. Though I’m sure he’s upset that someone else got to Victor before he got the chance.

“Do you think something is going to happen?” I ask, my gaze flicking from one side of the room to the other, watching Victor’s remaining sons closely.

Levi shrugs his shoulders. “Hard to tell,” he says. “Louis is lethal. He’ll even give us a run for our money, but they’d be foolish to do something here with so many witnesses. Everybody knows that they’ll eventually go after him, but it’s bad taste to spill blood at a family event.”

I scoff. “I didn’t realize you guys actually had morals. That’s cute.”

Roman shoots me a hard glare and I don’t doubt that I’m going to get bitched out later for referring to anything that has to do with them as cute. “You want to see cute?” he tells me, grabbing what’s left of Levi’s drink on the table and throwing it back. “I’ll show you fucking cute.”

My brows furrow and I watch as Roman turns his back and starts walking toward the top of the room where the live band is vibing. Seeing Roman approaching, they put their instruments down and give him the floor.

“Ahh, shit,” Marcus mutters. “So, we’re doing this now.”

Roman stands front and center, but with the guests’ attention still waiting for a shootout between Louis and Victor’s sons, Roman pulls his own gun and lets off two perfect shots. One bullet sails past Louis’ wife and shatters the glass in his hand, while the other skims right over the top of Phillip’s head, making his wife drop to the ground and scream until her lungs give out, and his two young daughters turn into sobbing messes on the floor beside their mother.

All eyes snap to Roman while my gaze lingers on Phillip. He should have been killed during our little visit the other day. He’s a vile man and should be offered the most brutal ending, one that I would be more than happy to give. He gave us absolutely nothing in our quest to find Giovanni, though a part of me believed that he truly didn’t know. But what he did tell us sent a wave of nausea and terror through my veins—Giovanni is recruiting an army to force his way back in, or at least that’s what Phillip heard, and if it’s true … shit. The very thought has haunted me night after night, but I trust the boys. If they didn’t think they could handle it, they would have made the necessary arrangements.

Roman’s deep, booming tone fills the air and my gaze snaps back to him. He stands tall and with the eye of every man, woman, and child in the room on him. Half of them watch him with respect, knowing he is a leader among men, while the others watch him with fear, concerned about why he’s here addressing the family and not his father.

“My brothers and sisters,” he says, spreading his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “Welcome to our home. My brothers and I duly welcome you to the annual DeAngelis Family Ball. It is an honor to host you, and an even greater honor to stand before such an impressive show of blood.”

The room cheers and I watch as Roman’s eyes darken with a sinister excitement, loving the way the crowd eats into his bullshit. “I must thank you all for making the trip out here. We all grieve for Victor DeAngelis. His death, among others, has saddened our hearts, but I believe that he would have wanted tonight to go ahead. So it is in his honor that we celebrate tonight.”

The room erupts again, and I don’t miss the way that Roman’s gaze quickly flickers back toward mine as though proving some kind of imaginary point. He turns back to his doting crowd and holds his hands out, settling them all down as a pained expression forces its way across his face. “However,” he continues. “News of Victor’s untimely passing is not the only devastation I must share with you tonight.”

A hushed silence falls over the crowd, and as if sensing that something big is about to go down, a thick tension spreads over the room, making chills run down my spine. “I am sure by now, you have all noticed my father’s absence tonight, along with his new wife, Ariana. My father is a complicated man, and his wife nothing but a whore who lives off the desire to betray those around her. My brothers and I have suffered at our father’s hands for too many years, and I feel that it is my duty to share with you all that from here on out, the three men you have all feared for so many years have officially inherited our rightful positions at the head of this family. Giovanni DeAngelis no longer rules over you …” he says, watching the horror, shock, and fear washing over the faces of the men, women, and children in the crowd. “We do.”

23

Three. Two. One.

Booming voices erupt from every corner of the ballroom as Roman stands before them, acting as though he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb that ever existed. Because this chance doesn’t just affect the people in this room, it will rock the whole fucking world. Hell, nobody gives a shit about the tension between Victor’s sons and Louis anymore. That shit is old news compared to this.

A tall man hovering in the shadows of the room steps out and pushes his way through the crowd, staring up at Roman as the people around us warily watch Levi and Marcus. “Are you saying you and your sick brothers murdered the head of our family?” the man demands, his voice sailing over all the gasps of horror.

“No,” Roman says, the people in the room quickly shutting up so they don’t miss what’s being said. “My father is very much alive and will stay that way if he has anything to do with it. I’m sure many of you have seen the way he cowers when in our presence. My father is weak, and has officially lost control. Giovanni DeAngelis has betrayed you all. He kidnapped my newborn son and ran away, and I urge anyone who may know of his whereabouts to come forward, otherwise you will suffer his same consequences.”

“You and your brothers are children,” the man spits. “What the hell do you know about leading this family? You will turn us into a laughingstock. We’ll all be cuffed and jailed under your command.”

Roman laughs. “How lost you are, Uncle,” he says in a mocking tone, making my brows pinch together. Uncle? Is this Giovanni’s other brother who I haven’t met yet? What was his name? Shit … Joseph, maybe? “My father was already in bed with the FBI. Who do you think gave up the location of your country manor last year? That place was raided, right? You lost over four million in cash then came running to my father for help, and he sat there and promised you that he would find the fucker who did it and punish them. Who’s the fucking laughingstock now?”

Roman’s gaze lifts to the crowd as Levi and Marcus watch the room with trained gazes. “My brothers and I are no fools,” he says slowly. “We know that loyalties are not easily won in this world. Loyalty is earned, not expected, so we will allow you the opportunity to decide for yourself. Will you follow us and remain an integral member of our family, or will you disgrace your family name, your blood, to back my father?”

Roman pauses for a brief second before going on. “We do not expect an answer now. We understand that options must be weighed. So, we will allow three days, and in three days’ time, the most senior members of our family will come to me with their families’ response.”

With that, Roman stalks off the stage leaving everyone in stunned silence.

He starts making his way back to us when he’s pulled away by the same man who questioned him. “Who is that?” I ask, glancing up at Levi.

“Joseph,” he says, confirming my earlier thoughts. “He’s my father’s younger brother. Fucking bastard if you ask me. He keeps to himself but when he wants to make a splash, he makes it count.”

Unease rocks through my chest. “Is he going to be a problem?”

Levi’s lips press into a hard line. “It’s hard to tell,” he says as I notice people in the crowd discreetly moving for the exit, terrified what a reign of the famous DeAngelis brothers could truly mean. “Roman will make an offer that will sway him to our side. He’s a smart man. He doesn’t do anything for nothing.”

Roman finishes whatever hushed argument he’s having with Joseph, and with a twisted smirk settling over his warm lips, he makes his way back toward us. “Everything cool?” Marcus questions, his gaze sweeping the room to see men watching us closely, deep in thought, while others look as though they’re trying to figure out how to play the cards that they were dealt.

Roman shrugs his shoulders as a waitress in a plunging black top comes past with a silver tray of drinks, each of them looking like something that would have my stomach turning. He gingerly takes a few before handing them out to his brothers and grabbing a glass of champagne for me. I take it with a subtle nod and immediately look away. The air between us has been strained ever since the whole fucking on the SUV thing, and honestly, I’m just about ready for him to pull the stick out of his ass and actually acknowledge that it happened, or at the very least give me a high five for a job well done.

He looks back to his brothers and holds his glass up between them, and they respond by raising their own drinks. “Nothing has ever been better,” he announces with a sick, sadistic kind of pride. “We’re finally getting everything we’re owed.”

Levi smirks back at Roman and clinks his glass against his brother’s. “About fucking time.”

A low, rumbling laugh vibrates through Marcus’ chest and he throws back his drink before glancing between his brothers. “So, now that’s over. Do I need to be here?”

Roman scoffs. “No, but you have to wonder if separating yourself from us is a good idea right now. Every one of the men in this room want to take what we’ve just stolen. You turn your back now and it’s bound to get stabbed.”

Marc winks and curls his arm around mine. “I’ll take my chances.”

Before I even know what’s going on, he pulls me away, and I stumble over my six-inch heels before gripping onto him tighter. He holds me steady, and as I glance up at him, I find a deep hunger growing in his eyes.

Oh, my!

“I hope you’re not dragging me away to have your wicked way with me, Marcus DeAngelis,” I tease, knowing damn well that’s exactly what he intends to do. “We’re in the middle of a party with a bunch of men who would love nothing more than to catch you with your pants around your ankles.”

“I hope they do,” he warns me, the darkness pulsing out of him and making my thighs clench. “Then that way they’ll know that not only can I achieve the impossible, but I can do it while fucking my girl like a goddamn rockstar. Besides, what kind of leader would I be if I didn’t thrust the gift of my perfect bare ass upon my men?”

A laugh bubbles up my throat and I choke it down, not wanting to bark out an obnoxious laugh while surrounded by a group like this—a group who could break out into a war at a second’s notice and turn the formal ballroom into a bloodbath. “I don’t know about thrusting the gift of your ass upon your men,” I tell him, his darkness and hunger slamming into my chest and claiming me all the same. “But I sure as fuck know something else you could thrust into.”

A wicked grin stretches across his face as we slip out the back entrance of the ballroom. He leads me up a narrow hall, following behind an older couple who try to make a hasty escape, the idea of Giovanni’s sons taking point terrifying them. They scurry along and Marcus watches them closely, probably wondering how he can fuck with them one last time before they disappear for good, only their conversation has me coming up short. “Those boys are kidding themselves,” the gruff old man murmurs to his wife, having absolutely no idea who stalks him through the long hall. “Giovanni will not stand for this. He will come back with a vengeance, and I do not want to be here when that happens. It will be a massacre.”

“Oh, honey,” his wife says, putting her hand to his arm. “What shall we do? They’re going to demand our loyalty, and if we deny them, they will come for us. We will never be safe again.”

The old man scoffs. “Nothing,” he says. “We allow nature to take its course.”

“What do you mean?” she questions as they reach the end of the hallway.

The old man reaches for the door that leads out through the staff kitchen. “Gia Moretti,” he states bluntly. “She won’t stand back and allow them to rise up. She knows how ruthless their reign will be. They will destroy everything that stands in their way, and if she’s a smart woman, she’ll take them out before they get the chance to rise.”

With that, the old couple disappear through the door, leaving me slowing my pace at Marcus’ side, gaping up at him in horror. “What he said,” I breathe, my hands shaking with fear. “Is he right? Will Gia come for you?”

Marcus pauses outside a small closet and peers after the couple, despite them being long gone. “Nothing is ever considered a sure thing in this world,” he reminds me, knowing I’ve already learned that the hard way. “But he’s right. If she’s a smart woman with her family’s best interest at heart, she’ll make a move against us before we get the chance to rise. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already heard whispers and has a plan in place.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “Are you kidding me?” I gape, the idea of such a dangerous woman coming for my boys is absolutely terrifying.

Marcus nods, the seriousness in his eyes sending a chill over my body. Marcus is rarely serious, so when he is, it means something big. “Don’t you worry about Gia Moretti,” he tells me. “We’ll be ready for her whether she comes tomorrow, or a year from now. We have something she needs, and she won’t fuck with that.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “Tell me you didn’t steal something from Gia Moretti?”

Marcus laughs, his eyes flashing with amusement as his hands fall to my waist. “Trust me,” he says, his smirk stretching wider. “You’re not ready for that conversation. Now, that’s enough talk about Gia Moretti and her plan to destroy us. I’ve been needing to tear this fucking dress off you and sink my cock into your tight little cunt since the moment I walked into your bedroom, and not even Gia can stop me now.”

His eyes flash with that familiar, dark hunger that has my pussy aching with need. “Who the hell am I to stop you?” I murmur, leaning into him and pushing him back toward the door of the small closet. “Make me scream until my throat bleeds.”

I reach around Marcus and turn the handle of the door, and before I know it, I’m pressed up against the other side of it with Marcus’ lips at my throat, my legs wrapped around his waist, and his thick, needy cock buried deep inside me.

“Ugh,” I groan, scrunching my face in discomfort as Marcus’ warm seed leaks out of me, slowly smearing between my legs. I pause outside the bathroom door as Marcus walks on by, continuing back to the party with a more than satisfied smirk playing on his warm lips.

The door is locked, and I lean up against the wall, waiting for my turn. I can’t help but watch after Marcus, and as if feeling my stare on his back, he glances over his shoulder, eating me up with those dark, knowing eyes. They sparkle with a deadly secret and a thrill shoots through me as what we just did replays over in my head. My cheeks flush with a hot blush and he winks, sending a wave of need shooting over me all over again. Just when I think he couldn’t possibly work me up anymore, he makes a show of wiping his thumb across his delicious lips, reminding me exactly where those lips have been.

“Oh, good God,” I groan, squirming under his intense gaze.

Seeing the desire sweeping through me, Marcus laughs, the soft sound rumbling right down the long hall. All too soon, he’s pushing back through to the party, leaving me to deal with the mess spreading between my legs.

The woman before me finishes up, and I don’t miss the way she pauses as she exits, eyeing me up and down with a cautious stare, clearly not sure how I fit into this little DeAngelis brother combo. A grin pulls at my lips, and seeing the darkness filling my eyes, she quickly huffs and scurries away as though the idea of what I could be capable of doesn’t scare the shit out of her.

Laughing to myself, I push my way through to the small, private bathroom, and quickly clean myself up. I don’t know how Marcus does it. One second, we’re talking about our imminent death at the hands of the Moretti Mafia Family, and the next thing I know, Marcus is making me scream so fucking loud that we sure as hell would have raised the dead.

He came hard, and damn it, I’m positive that I came even harder. Nothing could have possibly made it any better … except for Roman and Levi joining the party. We only got to experience the three of us that one time on top of the high-rise building, but I was blindfolded. That night was all about me feeling their pleasure, but if roles were reversed and it was all about their pleasure … well fuck. Butterflies swirl through my stomach at just the thought of what I could do to them. Just to hear that soft growl coming from between Roman’s lips and knowing that it was all because of me would be like all of my Christmases coming at once.

Hearing voices at the door, I quickly focus on what I’m doing, more than aware that I’m getting distracted by just the mere thought of spreading my legs for those devious men.

The voices get louder as they make their way down the hallway. I don’t recognize them, but the harsh, whispered tones have my back stiffening with unease. I quickly wash my hands and move to the bathroom door, pressing my ear right up against it to hear the men standing on the opposite side, clearly unaware of me standing so close.

“We move tonight,” one of the voices says, the dark whispered tone putting me on edge. “We meet back here after the party and finally put an end to this shit.”

“This is our last shot,” another voice says. “If we’re going to make a move, it has to be now. I want blood. I won’t wait any longer.”

Oh, fuck.

My heart races as fear pulses through me. Whoever these men are, they’re planning some kind of attack after the party, and something tells me the boys are their target.

I have to get out of here. I have to warn them, but more than that, I have to figure out who these bastards are.

They speak for a minute longer, giving absolutely nothing else away, and as their voices begin trailing down the hallway, I let out a shaky breath. If I wait a moment longer, they’ll disappear around the corner and any chance of figuring out who they are goes right out the window, but if I walk out of here now, I risk one of them seeing me. And though nobody is as dangerous as the three DeAngelis brothers, the men at this ball can be just as unpredictable and vile. Getting caught could cost me my life, but not taking the risk could mean theirs.

Fuck.

My hands shake as I curl my fingers around the handle and slowly peel the door open. Pushing my way out into the deserted hallway, I make a break for it, keeping my pace calm as the loud clicking on my heels against the marble is bound to give me away.

I glance back over my shoulder and finally find them. The four remaining sons of Victor DeAngelis.

My heart sinks. They’ve worked it out. They know it was us who killed not only their father, but their brother, Antonio, and now they want to make us bleed.

Shit.

They’re right down the opposite end of the long hallway, and just as they go to move around the corner, one of the brother’s peers back up the hall and his eyes come straight to mine, widening with the realization that I was in the bathroom, overhearing their conversation. “Hey,” he calls up the hallway, his brothers immediately looking back at what’s caught his attention.

He turns back to face me and instantly starts making his way back up the hall. I pick up my pace, my heart pounding with fear. “Hey, get back here.”

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I bolt like a fucking line-backer, my heels slamming down on the hard marble.

“I just want to talk,” the guy calls after me, his brothers barreling down the hall after him. “She fucking heard us,” he says back to his brothers.

He quickly gains on me, and I curse myself for wearing a dress. When the fuck will I learn my lesson? From here on out, I wear tights and runners wherever I go, because apparently having one night free of this bullshit isn’t possible.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” My chants match the speed of the irritating clicking coming from the bottom of my heels, and I push myself faster, gripping the hem of my gold dress and yanking it up. Knowing my luck, I’ll probably trip over the expensive material and face plant right into the floor, and while my nose has always had a slight angle to it, I really don’t have the time for a nose job right now.

The man’s long strides are twice as big as mine, and by the time I reach the entrance of the massive ballroom, the fucker is right on my heels.

I barge in through the throng of people, my eyes bouncing around the room in a panic, desperately searching for those three familiar faces. I don’t look back as bumping into someone could put me right into his murderous hands, so instead, I slip and weave through the crowded bodies, ignoring the gasps and grunts from the people I piss off on the way.

My gaze sweeps the room for the third time, and just as I go to take another step, the desperation begins to get the best of me. A rock-hard arm shoots out and captures my waist. My back slams up against a hard chest, and before a scream can tear out of me, Levi’s lips are at my ear. “What happened?” he growls, knowing all too well that only a massive threat could have me running like that.

My gaze snaps back to the entrance of the big room, finding Victor’s son staring after me, watching through a narrowed, pissed-off gaze. I blink, and as if I’d imagined him there, he’s gone.

Roman moves in beside me and I look back just as Marcus moves in front of me, the three of them boxing me in. “I won’t ask you again,” Levi spits, more than able to feel the rush of my pulse beneath his hold. “What happened?”

“Victor’s sons,” I tell them, panting as I try to catch my breath. “They’re planning an attack after the party. They want you all dead.”

24

The last of the wait staff disappears into the night and I stare after them, knowing what this means. The party is officially over and now we’re on watch, waiting for Victor’s sons to return.

My nerves have been on edge since the fucker chased me into the ballroom. His eyes were filled with such a dark hatred and anger that it’s had a wave of chills sweeping through me ever since.

It’s been hours since the four brothers left, but every cell in my body tells me that they’re still here, still lingering and waiting for their chance to take out their cousins, just as the boys took out their brother.

My heels are long gone, but as we stand at the top of the grand stairs watching the headlights of the last wait staff disappearing down the long drive, I allow the bottom of my dress to trail across the ground. I couldn’t find it in myself to go take it off, separating me from the boys. I’ve stuck right by them all night, and while the boys carried on throughout the party as though there wasn’t a threat coming their way, I sure as fuck couldn’t.

My panic and nerves have more than gotten the best of me.

Roman steps forward, putting him right at the edge of the top step before opening his arms wide. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he calls into the night. “Let’s get this over and done with. I know you’re out there. My yard reeks of your foul stench.”

My eyes bug out of my head and I gape at Roman. “The fuck is wrong with you?” I spit under my breath, trying to keep my comments discreet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m tired,” he snaps back at me. “It’s been a long day. We might as well get it over and done with. Besides, they’re a bunch of fucking pussies. They don’t stand a chance against us. If they wanted us dead, they would have hired a trained assassin who would have demanded more than they could afford. This is nothing but a meeting.”

“A meeting?” I question, my brows furrowed as I watch the four brothers step out from different dark shadows of the yard, their hands up to show they hold no weapons. “No, it’s more than that. I heard them say they’re out for blood. This is an attack and you’re all but cheering them on.”

“Look at them,” he scoffs, his gaze traveling over his cousins as though dealing with their bullshit is beneath him. “Does it look like anything more than some fucked-up meeting trying to get in our back pocket? I wouldn’t be surprised if they offered to suck dick just to get whatever the fuck it is they want.”

“A meeting?” I confirm, glancing over the cousins. “That’s it? Just a meeting and you decided to keep it to yourself all night while I’ve been in a panic, thinking you’re all going to die.”

Roman glances back at me with a bored expression. “I’m not your man, Empress. It’s not my job to cater to your erratic emotions. You’ve got my brothers for that. Take it up with them.”

Anger bubbles through me and I narrow my gaze, reaching back to Marcus. My hand instantly comes in contact with his cock, and I palm him through his pants, not missing the way Roman’s gaze watches my every move. Anger and jealousy flash through his dark eyes, sending a wave of sick satisfaction crashing through me. “You’re right,” I tell him, copying his same bored tone. “You’re not my man. You’re a scared little boy who refuses to take what he wants because his own fucked-up emotions and daddy issues have left him shaking in his boots.”

Knowing Roman’s inability to control himself, Marcus reaches out and takes my waist before gently pulling me back out of Roman’s reach. My hand falls away from his junk as I feel his lips by my ear. “Point proven,” he mutters, nodding down to the four men creeping closer to the mansion. “Can we focus on that, before you give my brother a reason to tear my dick straight off my body?”

My hard glare never leaves Roman’s, holding it with the same intensity in which he holds mine, only forced to look away when the four cousins reach the bottom step and refuse to go any further.

Roman lets out a sigh and the four of us move toward them, not in the mood to have this conversation yelling back and forth up the stairs.

We get three quarters of the way down the stairs when Roman decides that we’ve gone far enough. He comes to a stop and his brothers meet him on the same step while I hover a few steps back, not willing to get quite so close, especially as the brother who’d chased me down the long hallway seems to do nothing but glare at me.

“There are more conventional ways to arrange a meeting with us,” Levi comments, already seeming bored with the conversation.

The oldest-looking brother stands in the center of the four and raises his chin, trying to appear as though he’s not shitting himself, but I see the fear deep in his eyes, even in the darkness that surrounds the mansion. “We were left with no choice,” he says. “Our father was killed three nights ago, and our brother only weeks before that. We are getting desperate.”

Marcus moves just an inch, and it’s enough to put the four brothers on edge, more than aware of just how unhinged their cousin can be. “Desperate men make desperate mistakes.”

The guy who’d chased me snarls at Marcus, his filthy glare looking over him like shit under his shoe. “We don’t make mistakes.”

Marcus scoffs. “Standing outside a closed bathroom door while having a conversation about your plan to meet here after the party isn’t considered a secret? Because it sure fucking sounds like one. You gave yourself away the moment you opened your mouth. Now, what’s this about?”

The older brother glares at the chaser and draws the attention back to himself, the other two silently standing by, too afraid to even open their mouths. “Louis killed our father,” he states, making it clear that they’re not as clever as they think. “He came into our family home, tied him to a fucking chair, and burned the property to the ground. I want his blood.”

A twisted grin pulls at Roman’s lips, and while I see the raw truth of him laughing at these fools for not having figured out what’s really going on here, they see nothing but a deranged, twisted man that’s excited over the idea of spilling blood. “Then take it. What are you waiting for? He was here tonight. You could have ended him at any point, and yet you’re standing here at the bottom of our stairs with your tails between your legs. You’re weak. All of you are.”

The brother presses his lips into a hard line, his jaw clenched as anger swirls through him. “We are not weak,” he spits. “There is a difference between weakness and restraint. We are smart men and know when we are out of our league.”

“Is that what you tell yourselves?” Marcus questions with an amused grin.

All four of the brothers glare at him, and I hold back a grin of my own. He has a point. It’s clear they’re here to ask a favor, but in this world, smart men know that favors don’t get you anywhere. They are nothing but foolish.

Roman watches them through a narrowed, suspicious gaze, and I can practically see the wheels spinning in his head. “What’s in it for us?” he questions, already seeing their request before it’s even been spoken out loud. “If we take out Louis and end this war once and for all, then what do we get in return?”

“Our loyalty,” the main dude spits, clearly not thrilled about it.

Roman laughs. “Your loyalty ain’t worth shit to me,” he says. “Words are nothing but words. Victor was so far up my father’s ass that he would have taken his own sons’ lives at the very thought of them pledging their loyalty to us. You’re telling me that you’re willing to stand against your father’s life work just to see us slit Louis’ throat? I don’t fucking buy it.”

“What fucking choice do we have?” he demands. “We need Louis gone, and you three are the only ones fucked enough in the head to make it happen. Whether we like it or not, you’re here for the long haul, and when it comes to self-preservation, we’ll do whatever the fuck it takes. Too many lives have already been lost, and after our brother’s role in getting you locked in that fucking castle, we owe it to you. We will vow our loyalty under the condition that Louis dies.”

Roman watches them cautiously, studying each and every one of them. “You’ll back us against our enemies? Against your own fucking blood?” he questions. “You know this move has already ruffled feathers. The family is divided, and a war is imminent. It’s knocking on our door just waiting for us to let it in. Are you prepared for what being loyal to us truly means?”

Each of them swallows hard, quickly glancing at one another before finally nodding. “Yes, cousins,” the front and center dude says. “We’re prepared.”

Roman glances to each of his brothers and the blank stare on each of their faces gives absolutely nothing away, yet somehow, they read each other’s minds perfectly. “Okay,” Roman finally says, his expression darkening more by the second. “Consider it a deal. Louis’ head for a lifetime of loyalty,” he says, slowly scanning his gaze over each of his cousins. “I do not need to remind you what happens to men who cross me and my brothers.”

“We swore our loyalty,” the chaser cuts in, not liking being questioned. “We stand by our word.”

“Very well,” Roman says. “We’ll let you know once the job is done.”

“Good,” main dude says. “We look forward to it.”

And just like that, the four cousins slink away into the shadows, and the boys turn to make their way back up the stairs, acting as though they didn’t just get hired to complete a hit that they were responsible for in the first place. “Uhhhhhh,” I say, following them up the stairs and back into the big house. “You guys realize that you’re killing a man, to get payback for the other man that you killed?”

Marcus looks back at me, a wide grin stretching across his handsome face. “Poetic, isn’t it?”

I shake my head and grumble under my breath. “Fucking insane is what it is.”

We all make our way into the informal lounge room and the boys drop down onto the couches, instantly throwing ideas off each other for how they intend to take out yet another uncle. I shake my head as I cross the room and reach up over the fireplace, pulling down a fancy as fuck sword that’s been wasted as decoration. “Aren’t you guys tired?” I complain, striding across the room and laying the sword down on the ground before searching around the room and finding the long fire poker beside the fireplace.

I go to grab it as Marcus leans back in the couch. “Fucking dead tired,” he mutters. “But there’s too much to go over from that party. We need to work out where our enemies lie.”

I drop the fire poker down by the sword and scan the room again. “Shit, where am I going to find three more long pointy things?”

Levi grins. “I’ve got a long pointy thing for ya.”

I choke on my own spit as Roman glares, cutting off whatever bullshit Marcus was going to follow that one up with. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trying to make a pentagram,” I murmur as I realize that I can use the sheath from the sword. “Figured I’d try and summon the devil so he can take you assholes right back where you belong.”

Marcus laughs and gets up from the couch before grabbing hold of me and dragging me back. “Fucking hell, babe,” he says, dropping back onto the couch and pulling me down with him. “If we’re going to the deepest pits of hell, then you better fucking believe that we’re dragging you right along with us.”

A grin plasters across my face and I turn into him, pressing my lips to his as his fingers lock onto the small zipper on my back. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

25

The moon hovers high in the sky as we barrel down the road, speeding through the twisty streets of the dodgiest area in town. My gaze lingers on the dark sky, watching the way the moon seems to travel with us, though I seem to get stalked by everything else, why not get stalked by the big old cheese ball in the sky?

“Why do we always have to do this shit in the middle of the night?” I question, my gaze flicking back to the guys.

Levi glances at me as Marcus silently sleeps like the living dead on my right. “You’re kidding, right?” he questions. “You’re not seriously asking us why we do shit at night.”

My eyes roll so hard that I fear they might roll straight out of my eye sockets. “Of course I know why you have to do this at night, I’m just over it. I don’t think I’ve had a proper night’s sleep since meeting you guys. Like, can’t you just wear a disguise? Grow a mustache or something?”

Roman’s irritated huff from the front seat has me wanting to reach through the front and nut punch the bastard, but when he turns off into an area that has every single streetlight shot out, I forget what the hell we were talking about. “Well, this ain’t shady at all,” I murmur, my eyes wide as the need to lock the door slams through my chest. “Where are we?”

Roman drives toward a big warehouse and pulls up around back, keeping the SUV hidden in the shadows. “This is my father’s warehouse,” Roman says as Levi reaches back and gives Marcus a shove to wake him. “Anything you need in this world, I can guarantee you’ll find it here. Drugs, guns, dirty money. This is the heart and soul of my father’s operation. Sure, he has other warehouses in case this one gets raided, but without this, he’s got nothing.”

Levi’s eyes flash with something dark as he slowly turns to meet my stare, and I see the twisted need to destroy his father glowing deep in his gaze. “And now, it’s all ours.”

Damn fucking straight!

The four of us pile out of the car and the boys fall in around me as though this is somewhere I need to be protected. The warehouse looks as though a good huff and puff could blow the fucker down, but something tells me that looks are deceiving. Giovanni DeAngelis is a smart businessman, and he’s not going to allow his whole operation to come undone with a simple storm. There’s more to the picture here, I’m just not seeing it yet.

The boys look left to right as though they’re expecting someone to jump out at them, but after Roman’s announcement during the party and the whole family divided, I wouldn’t be surprised. Feathers are ruffled, people are on edge and want to align themselves with who they think will come out on top, and everyone who chooses wrong will be punished. The boys were lenient, giving the family a few days to think it over and make the right decision, because in the end, anyone who stands against these three assholes is already considered dead.

We approach a back door and my gaze scans over it. At first glimpse, it looks just like any shitty old back door on an abandoned warehouse, but looking closer, it’s hard metal with an advanced tech locking system that my brain can’t even begin to work out. “What the hell?” I breathe, taking a step back to get a wider view, realizing that the whole building is made out of this stuff, but to the naked eye, it appears as anything but.

Levi scoffs and steps in front of a keypad before entering a code and leaning down. My mouth drops open as it scans his eyes and I gape in wonder. “That did not just scan his eye,” I say, unable to wrap my head around all of this. I mean, fuck! It looks like the kind of shit you see in a James Bond movie.

Marcus grins as the door unlocks and automatically slides back, allowing us entry. “The retinal scanner was my idea,” he says proudly. “Pretty fucking cool, right?”

“Super cool, and not over the top at all,” I smirk, following the boys inside.

“You do what you gotta do,” Levi says, walking out in front of us as though he knows the place like the back of his hand. “People like Gia Moretti would do anything to find a place like this. We have to keep it protected.”

My brows shoot up. “Then why would your father allow you access? Wouldn’t he have scrubbed your eyeballs from the system to keep you out?”

Roman shrugs his shoulders. “If the old bastard could, he would have.”

We walk into a dark room and go through a second security check before another big door slides open, spilling light out into the dark space. My eyes bug out of my head seeing the insanity before me. It’s like a shopping mall at Christmas time. People working like slaves with stacks upon stacks of product.

“What the ever-loving fuck is this?” I breathe, following the boys lead as they walk into the clinical space. I can’t help but notice just how cold it is, and as I glance around, I realize that all I see is products perfectly stacked and ready to go, each one of them labeled with Giovanni’s mark. “How does all of this stuff get here?” I ask, unable to tear my gaze away from everything as I slink after the boys.

Marcus glances back at me. “It doesn’t. Everything is manufactured right here.”

“What?” I grunt, pausing as I scan the giant room again. Maybe I missed something. “Where?”

“Downstairs,” Marcus says. “This fucker is three levels deep. We keep everything stacked up here for easy distribution.”

“No shit.”

A cocky grin pulls at his lips as I roll my eyes, realizing that these guys are so much deeper into their father’s business than I originally thought. Hell, they even seem like the brains of the operation.

We stop in front of a big metal door and Roman enters a code into a keypad. A little light flicks red three times before turning green. We hear big metal locks unlatching, and with that, Roman pushes against the door and walks in.

I follow with wide eyes as we step through to a computer tech’s holy trinity. Computers line every desk, big, small, even ones with rounded screens. There are things I’ve never even seen before or know what they do, but damn, they look expensive. I doubt even the FBI or CIA have this kind of technology. No wonder the boys have gotten away with the type of shit they do for so long.

“Hey, Mick,” Roman says, walking up to the guy running the world’s most elaborate computer lab. “How’s it going?”

The guy, Mick, pushes back from his desk chair, and as he turns to face us, his eyes come straight to mine. He clearly wasn’t expecting a tag along. He eyes me warily but quickly decides that if I’d been welcomed in by the boys, all is good. “Hey man,” he says, leaning into Roman and doing that weird hand thing that guys do before reaching around and clapping him on the back. He gives Levi and Marcus a welcoming nod before turning and facing a big, frosted glass wall.

I watch him with a curious stare as he steps around his impressive desk and moves toward the wall, pressing a button that has my mouth dropping open again. The frost on the glass fades away, showing off the massive warehouse with the best vantage point to see every angle of the room.

The workers all go about their jobs and I inch closer to the glass wall. “Nobody even blinked,” I mutter, knowing damn well that had I been on the other side of the glass and the boss’ three sons just walked in, I’d at least risk a sneaky glance. “Are they just that disciplined, or do they not give a shit?”

Mick smirks with a proud sparkle in his eye. “We’re completely concealed in here. It’s like the two-way glass you see in those interrogation rooms in cop shows. We see them, but they can’t see us.”

“No shit,” I breathe, completely impressed.

“Yeah,” he says. “Not gonna lie, I was impressed by it when I first started here, but the amount of wedgies being plucked, ball grabs, and dumb shit I’ve witnessed because they don’t know I’m watching makes it a little less cool.”

“Can we get back on track?” Roman says, looking bored. “We don’t have all night.”

Mick clears his throat, and his eyes widen just a fraction, proving that while he may be on friendly terms with Roman, he’s still shit scared of him, and I don’t blame the guy. He’s probably the guy Giovanni hired to scrub clean every surveillance camera in town whenever the boys decide to sneak out at night.

“Right,” Mick says, nodding and shuffling over so that the boys each get an equal view of the warehouse floor. “Everything is right on schedule. We have deliveries going out tomorrow night and a few local guys making collections over the next few hours. The shipment set for Mexico is experiencing a few hold ups though.”

“Why?” Roman growls, his sharp stare slicing back to Mick’s.

“We’ve heard some whispers about a raid. They’re expecting us to make a move tomorrow, so we thought we would hold off for a few days. I haven’t been able to get a hold of your father, which is why I called you down here. Figured you’d have a little insight on that.”

“Who tipped them off?” Levi questions, stepping closer to the glass wall and slowly scanning over each of the workers.

Mick shakes his head. “I’ve checked over everyone, gone through their phone records and traced their movements. Our guys are clean. This came from somewhere else.”

“Fuck,” Marcus says, his gaze falling back to Roman’s. “After the ball last night, it could be anyone.”

Roman nods, deep in thought, his lips pressing into a tight line. “Keep tracing it,” he tells the guy. “As for the shipment, I want you to handle it. Personally set it up with the client, don’t even tell the driver where he is going or what he’s carrying until after he’s left my warehouse.”

Mick’s brows furrow and something flashes in his eyes. “Your warehouse?” he questions. “Is something going on that I need to know about?”

Roman glances at his brothers before turning back to Mick. “Changes are coming,” he says. “Keep your head down, and everything will be fine. I like you Mick. I don’t want you to give me a reason to have to replace you. Is that understood?”

“Crystal clear,” he says, nervously glancing my way before returning back to Roman. “Now as for your … personal stock?”

Roman’s lips twist into an amused grin as my brows shoot up, realizing that this is the inside guy who’s been switching out all of Giovanni’s labeling for the boys’. “It’s fine, she knows all about it,” Roman explains. “But these are some of the changes we were referring to. We’re running our father out, so we’re going to need every last one of these products rebranded as our own.”

Mick’s eyes widen and seeing the high racks stacked to the brim with product, I can only imagine just how big of a task they’re asking of him.

“You … you want me to rebrand all of it?” he questions, watching the boys cautiously, making sure he heard Roman right.

“That’s exactly what we’re asking of you,” he says. “No more hiding. Every client now belongs to us, every dealer and run will have our names on it. I want every account payable to us. Hell, I want the fucking factory transferred into our names. Can you do that?”

Mick nods and it’s clear from the hesitation in his eyes that he knows just how dangerous a move like this could be for him.

“You now work for me and my brothers,” Roman tells him. “Look out for us just as you’ve always done, have our back and I swear to you, we will have yours.”

“You know I’ve got you covered,” Mick says. “But your father—”

“My father can’t do shit,” Levi says, stepping back from the glass and crossing his strong arms over his chest. “Though I suggest you watch your back for a while. There’s only so much we can do to help you, but he will know it was you, and while we can update the security and lock him out, there’s no stopping him from getting vengeance some other way. Don’t assume that we can always be there to save your ass, keep your eyes open.”

Sweat coats his forehead as he moves back around to his desk and drops down into his seat. “Alright,” he says, pulling up some kind of fancy system that I can’t even begin to understand. “Let’s make this happen.”

He starts madly typing away at his keyboard, and I can’t help but watch over his shoulder as he pulls up the boys’ branding and sends it directly to the printer. All shipments are put on hold, and I don’t doubt the second we leave, a shitload of workers are going to be called in to get everything ready and rebranded.

The order goes out and I watch through the glass as the workers look over their new instructions and immediately get to work, tearing off the old branding with their brows pinched in confusion. “I hope these guys are going to get some kind of bonus for this,” I mutter under my breath, imagining just how pissed I’d be if I’d learned that I had to rebrand millions of little pills, baggies, and who the hell knows what else, after spending countless hours doing the job in the first place.

The boys awkwardly look between each other before Roman rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he grunts, clearly not thrilled about it. “The workers can get double time as long as it is completed by this time next week.”

Mick’s eyes widen with surprise and he nods, more than down with this plan, though it’s clear by the look on his face that he hadn’t expected this, not in a million years. He gets busy, and as I watch the warehouse workers kick into gear, my brows furrow. “Wait,” I rush out. “If you rebrand everything, your father is going to know that you guys were the new dealer stealing his clients all along. I thought you wanted to pin it on Antonio.”

Levi shrugs his shoulders. “Plans change, babe,” he says. “The fallout from Antonio’s death is too good to change the story now. All eyes are on Louis, and I don’t intend on bringing the attention back to us. With any luck, they’ll all be dead before they can put the pieces together and realize it was a perfectly planned series of executions.”

“And as for the branding?” I question, pointedly glancing toward the glass wall.

Marcus steps in behind me, his arms curling around my waist. “Rebranding everything was going to happen at some point, so why wait? Our original plan has already gone to shit and our father was going to figure out it was us eventually. Plus, he’s not exactly in a position to stop us. Now’s the time to make our move. Besides, don’t you think it’s a little thrilling, knowing he’s about to feel the sting of our knife in his back?”

I scoff and a grin pulls at my lips. “I think he’s already feeling it,” I laugh. “But as long as you’re sure, then I’m down.”

Marcus grinds against my ass. “You’re always down.”

I roll my eyes and once the boys have finished their business, we make our way back out of the impressive tech room, leaving Mick to get busy calling in all his workers.

Marcus drops his heavy arm over my shoulder and leads me back out the way we came, keeping us concealed from all of the night shift workers. Levi stops to haul a big bag of pills over his shoulder and grabs a few stacks of dirty cash.

We reach the first exit, and as Marcus stops to hash in the code that Roman had only used twenty minutes ago, I hear the telltale sound of a big roller door opening and can’t resist turning back.

A black Mercedes pulls to a stop outside the roller door and the boys slow, turning back to see who’s coming. Roman’s shoulders tighten and for a brief second, I wonder if it’s Giovanni. Hope surges through me, and as much as I never want to see that man again, if it is him, it gives us a way to locate Roman’s son.

The four of us pause and Marcus discreetly pulls me behind a big stack of dirty cash that’s wrapped in plastic, keeping us hidden and out of sight. Though if someone were really looking, they’d be able to find us.

Roman and Levi move in front of the stack while keeping themselves discreetly tucked away. I can only see the top of Levi’s head but there’s a morphed reflection of Roman in the plastic wrap and I’m able to make out the way he slowly pulls a gun from the back of his pants.

All eyes remain locked on the black Mercedes, and as the door opens, I hold my breath. If it’s Giovanni, there might even be a chance that the baby is tucked away in the back seat.

My heart races. I’ve never wanted to see that asshole more in my life.

A pair of expensive black shoes hit the ground and I lean out from behind the stack of cash, needing a clearer look. Marcus’ hand curls around my elbow, ready and waiting to yank me back if need be, but when the man steps out of the car and his familiar head appears over the top of the open door, my chest sinks.

It’s not Giovanni, but hell, I wasn’t expecting this guy.

My brows shoot up and I gape up at Marcus. “Is that our dealer?” I question, my voice hitching a little too high for someone who’s supposed to be hiding.

Marcus scoffs, equally as stunned. We were expecting to see a lot of things here tonight, but not him, and certainly not in an expensive suit worth more than he could possibly afford and a car that looks as though it gets valet parked every night. “It sure fucking is,” Marcus says as Levi and Roman discreetly return to us.

“The fuck is going on here?” Levi questions, keeping his gaze locked on our dealer, the guy who is supposed to be shit broke, living in the worst part of town in a home that’s falling apart.

“I smell a fucking rat,” Roman says, anger sweeping over his sharp features.

The last time we paid a visit to our dealer, his home looked ransacked. Broken glass and drugs littered the floors, and it looked like someone had made a run for it with as much cash as they could carry. And while it’s definitely possible to get robbed in that neighborhood, it didn’t feel right. Roman thought it was a setup, especially considering the dealer never called to beg for his life.

We watch him a moment, watch how familiar he is with the workers loading up his car with product, and how seamless the transaction is. A lowly local drug dealer wouldn’t be pulling up like this, and the boys sure as fuck wouldn’t risk someone so disposable and unreliable to know the location of the heart and soul of their business. No, this guy is a fucking rat. He’s far too comfortable here.

“He’s been working for our father this whole fucking time,” Levi comments, seeing exactly what I see. “He was planted into our lives. I knew that asshole was too quick to offer his services after we shot his boss. Father’s got the little bitch spying on us.”

“He knew,” Roman murmurs, shaking his head as he lets out a heavy sigh and moves back to the electronic keypad. “All this fucking time. Our father knew the competitor was us. That old bastard. He’s always five steps ahead of us.”

We push out through the door and Levi quickly gets to work on the next one. “So, what do we do about it?” I question, not having dealt with a rat quite like this before.

Roman draws his phone out of his pocket and catches the door behind us before it can close all the way. “The only thing we can do,” he says, hitting a button on his phone and listening to the shrill ring of the dealer’s phone across the warehouse. “We invite him for dinner.”

26

Leaning over the top of the bar, I fill myself a glass of something smooth, needing the little hit to help me relax. It’s been a long as fuck day, and with the dealer due to arrive in the next hour, I need to be prepared.

It’s well after nine and I’m not going to lie, when Roman suggested that we were going to have him over for dinner, I kinda figured he meant a normal dinner time like seven or eight, but noooooo, not these assholes. Apparently when you invite someone over for dinner, what they really mean is ‘why don’t you come over for a midnight snack?’ I was even stupid enough not to snack so that I didn’t spoil my meal, but now my stomach is fucking pissed.

I knew I should have snuck into the dining room and stolen a juicy piece of steak a few hours ago. My hunger has turned me into a raging bitch, and when I’m like this, not even serial killers would want to stand in my way.

White rum fills my glass, and just to be fancy, I drop a few perfectly round ice cubes into my glass. I take a sip and my eyes flutter in delight, but the way the cool liquid drops right to the bottom of my empty stomach only serves to remind me that I’M FUCKING STARVING!

Straightening up from the bar, I place the cool glass down on the polished wood and go to drop my ass down on the stool, only the intense feeling of someone watching me brings me up short. I suck in a breath as my heart leaps into my throat.

I flip around, my sharp gaze sailing straight to the shadows of the darkened room, just as the boys had trained me. My gaze sweeps from left to right and back again. Coming up blank, I try to convince myself that it was all in my head, until three, looming figures step out from each of the remaining corners of the room.

Black ski masks cover their faces and my hand curls around my glass, ready to launch it at one of the fuckers’ heads, only as they move a little closer into the dull light of the bar, my grip loosens.

The three tall men slowly move toward me, each of them shirtless with nothing but a pair of black pants, their faces completely covered by the masks, showing nothing but their dark, obsidian eyes.

They don’t make a sound, and if it weren’t for their familiar tattoos, I’d have absolutely no idea who was who. Marcus stands front and center, the tattoo of Felicity staring back at me, but it’s the hunger in his eyes that has me slowly pulling myself up from the stool.

Levi is at my right, the intricate, dark lines of his tattoo peeking out from under the base of his ski mask and trailing right over his chest and down his right arm. Roman silently comes at me from the left, and I have to slightly turn my head to see him fully. His body is so tight and it’s clear that he holds a shitload of tension in his muscles. He’s never fully able to relax, but hell, for some reason, he decided to participate in whatever the hell this is, and I’m so down with that.

They all slowly move toward me, and my heart rate picks up as my eyes move from left to right, wanting to watch them all. My core clenches as a deep dark thrill shoots through me. If this isn’t what I hope it is, then I’ll never forgive them for working me up like this.

They’re still halfway across the room but I’m already panting, the anticipation enough to bring me to my knees, and hell, if that’s where they want me, that’s exactly where I’ll be.

My throat gets dry and I reach back, curling my fingers around the cool glass, and with one smooth motion, I bring the rim to my bottom lip and throw back the white rum, indulging in the sweet burn as it sails down my throat.

Their gazes darken by the second, and I see each of them straining through their pants, the desperate need to have them sending me into a flurry of desperation.

Holy hell. What have I gotten myself into?

They creep closer and closer, and my panting becomes too much. I need to have them now. I need to feel their hands on my body, filling every fucking crevice and making me scream like never before.

My body grows hotter by the second and the anticipation is almost too much to bear. If this is some sick, twisted joke and they’re going to turn and walk away, then I’m going to be pissed.

Their eyes are like hot lasers upon my skin as they step into me, standing so close I can feel the warmth radiating off their skin, I could just die.

Levi meets my stare as the desire reflected in his eyes is enough to have me melting right here on the spot. “Fuck me,” I murmur under my breath. His eyes sparkle, and though I can’t see his lips beneath the mask, I know he’s grinning at the way the three of them have me all wound up.

He drops to his knees, and as I glance down at him, I can’t help but notice the way his tight abs roll and bunch with his movements. He tilts his chin up, holding my heated stare as his hands gently curl around the back of my leg.

He pulls on it, forcing my foot off the ground before gently placing it down on his strong thigh and sliding his hands up the back of my leg until he reaches the top of my thigh-high boot. It’s a subtle movement, but the way he grips the small zipper between his fingers and slowly drags it down my leg is one of the most sensual things I’ve ever experienced. Perhaps it’s his eyes on mine as he does it, or maybe it’s just the idea of what they plan on doing to me once the boots are stripped from my body.

He pulls the boot free, tossing it aside, and I groan as Levi places my foot back down and switches it for the next, repeating the same agonizingly slow and sensual movements. I’m completely mesmerized by him. He has my complete attention, that is until Marcus’ warm hands brush over my exposed waist.

My eyes snap toward his and the fire within them makes my stomach clench. They’re so dark and deadly, and just the knowledge of a man like him wanting me has me soaking wet with need. His fingers trail down my waist, capturing the front of my jeans.

Marcus pulls against my jeans and I fumble forward a step, as my other boot is completely pulled from my foot and tossed aside. Levi releases his hold on my foot, and I quickly catch myself before tumbling straight into Marcus. His fingers are rough on the front of my jeans and he pops the button with quick, skilled fingers. A soft gasp tears from my throat as he holds my gaze, refusing to release me.

The zipper slides down, and just the thought of his hands being so close to my almost exposed pussy has me panting with desperation.

With me now a step closer to Marcus, Roman slips in behind me, his wide, strong chest pressed right up against my back. I know we have a bit of a strained relationship, but holy mother of all things sweet and holy, I’m more than willing to put it all aside for just a few hours with him.

Desperate to feel his warm skin beneath my fingers, I slip my hand behind my back and feel the sharp ridges of his abs. A soft escape of needy breath hits my ear, and my eyes immediately flutter with the sweetest satisfaction. It’s one thing knowing that Roman has it bad for me and refuses to acknowledge it, but it’s a whole different situation when he physically can’t resist the temptation and his lack of control gets the best of him. Knowing that my touch alone could bring him to his knees makes me feel more powerful than any woman should ever have the right to feel.

He moves in tighter behind me, plastering himself to my back as his fingers move up over my body. They get higher and higher, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s planning on gripping my throat, but his movements pause at the collar of my cropped tank.

His hands fist into the material and swiftly tear it straight off my body. A gasp pulls from the back of my throat and my body stiffens and jolts with the raw intensity flowing through my veins. Roman’s hands instantly return to my skin, brushing over it with need, and my body trembles beneath his touch.

Marcus pushes my jeans down over my hips, taking my thong right along with it and the desperation is too much. I turn back and meet Roman’s heated gaze over my shoulder and the fire pulsing between us is stronger than it’s ever been. I don’t know if it’s the ski mask or because we’re not one on one, but something has him willing to let go of all the tension and just relax. It’s almost as though he’s trying to hide his real emotions, to allow himself to be in the moment, but not today. If he wants to indulge in me, then he’s going to do it completely.

Reaching back, my fingers slip under the fabric of his ski mask, and I pull it up just enough to expose his inviting lips. My hand curls around the back of his head, and not being able to help myself, I push up onto my tippy toes and fuse our lips together.

His body stiffens at first. He hadn’t been expecting this. Hell, it’s probably one of the reasons he was so down to wear the ski mask, but it’s not like I was expecting this either.

My lips move gently over his, allowing him the chance to pull back or take control, and as his body slowly begins to relax into my touch, he kisses me back, reminding me just how good it really is.

My pants are pulled right off my feet and Marcus throws them aside with my boots and the shredded scraps of my tank, and as Roman’s hands continue exploring my skin, Levi moves in closer on his knees. He pushes my legs apart and Marcus steps to my side, allowing Levi the space he needs to work his magic.

His warm lips brush along my inner thigh and a soft groan bubbles through my chest, the anticipation of what’s about to happen almost too much to bear. I’m left wondering if he pulled off his mask or just raised it the same way I’d done to Roman, but it’s not important enough to tear my lips away to look.

He slowly kisses his way higher, teasing and taunting my body with what’s about to come, and my knees quickly grow weak, but Roman’s strong hold keeps me upright.

Butterflies storm through my stomach, and with every touch of their hands, their tiny little wings seem to flutter faster until Levi’s lips finally close over my clit, his tongue gently flicking that sensitive bundle of nerves. My body jolts with electricity and I gasp into Roman’s mouth before feeling the smile pulling at his warm lips.

Levi doesn’t dare ease up, teasing me with his skilled tongue, sucking and nipping as he pushes two thick fingers deep inside of me. My fingers knot into Roman’s hair and I pull back from his kiss, needing a chance to catch my breath, but the DeAngelis brothers are not patient men.

Marcus moves in closer, his fingers skimming across my ribs and up over my bare breast as his lips press down on my shoulder. His fingers trail soft circles around my nipples, pebbling beneath his touch, and when his fingers close over it and give it a gentle pinch, my body flinches. “Ohhh, fuck,” I moan, melting back into Roman’s kiss as Levi worships my cunt as though it’s the only thing keeping him breathing.

The familiar sound of a zipper is heard through the room, and considering both Marcus and Roman’s hands are on my body and only one of Levi’s hands is buried deep inside of me, I have to assume it’s him freeing his big monster cock.

A thrill shoots through me, imagining the way he’s working it up and down with a tight fist, and I can’t resist reaching for both of his brothers. My fingers skim over the top of Marcus’ black jeans, and I make quick work of freeing him, groaning as his velvety cock hangs low and hard. This thing should come with a warning.

My fingers brush up and down his impressive length as I pull the zipper down on Roman’s jeans, the desperation to feel them both rocking through me. His cock springs free and I waste no time closing my fists around them both, slowly working up and down, matching the rhythm of Levi’s tongue flicking against my clit.

My body quivers and shakes as Marcus’ soft groan fills the air. I find myself pulling free of Roman’s kiss, only to turn toward Marcus. He releases my tit and curls his hand around the back of my neck, forcing me closer before crushing his lips to mine in a bruising, dominant kiss, a low growl rumbling through his wide chest.

Levi curls his fingers deep inside of me and I gasp into Marcus’ mouth, my knees shaking and getting weaker by the second. Liking the way my body responds, Levi goes again, rubbing his fingers over the same spot deep inside my cunt over and over, making my eyes roll in the back of my head. He sucks my clit into his mouth and flicks it with his tongue before doing it again and making me groan.

My knees buckle, and if it weren’t for Roman’s strong hold around my waist, I’d already be a puddle on the ground. “Oh, God,” I pant, pulling free from Marcus’ lips as I tighten my hold on both of their cocks, picking up my pace and rolling my thumb over their tips. “I’m gonna come.”

Levi’s wicked grin against my clit is everything, and with one more swipe of his curled fingers deep inside of me, I come hard. A loud cry tears from the back of my throat as my pussy convulses, turning into a shattered mess. Levi doesn’t ease up on his tongue or fingers and I ride it out, practically fucking his face as Roman’s excited breath brushes over my shoulder. “Oh, God,” I cry a little louder, my knees buckling and my fists tightening around them.

My orgasm tears through my veins, every nerve ending set on fire, and I throw my head back to Roman’s shoulder, clenching my eyes as the high rocks through my body. “Fuuuuuck,” I groan low, letting it overtake me until it finally begins to ease.

My eyes open and I breathe hard, dropping my gaze to Levi’s and watching the way he slowly strokes his thick cock. I get the briefest glimpse of him licking his lips before he pulls his mask back down into place, and though I don’t see either Marcus or Roman do the same, I sense it as the atmosphere in the room morphs into something much darker and more intense.

Roman adjusts his hold at my waist and pushes me down to my knees, forcing me to release both him and Marcus as I crash down directly in front of Levi. He stabilizes me with a hand on my hip, and as I catch my breath and look him in the eye, I find nothing but intense hunger. I have no idea how they intend to do this. Well, I have a slight idea, but either way, I’m down for whatever they want.

Roman comes down behind me, his hand falling to my ass and giving it a firm squeeze as Marcus remains on his feet, slowly stroking his long, thick cock.

My mouth waters for him, but there’s too much jostling coming from Levi to risk taking Marcus just yet. Turning my gaze back to Levi, I find him resting back, ready and waiting for me to ride him until the sun comes up.

Roman lifts me from behind, placing me on top of his brother and I immediately take him, my already needy cunt stretching as I’m lowered down on top of him. The boys don’t make a sound, but the way Levi takes my hips and digs his fingers into my flesh tells me exactly what I need to know.

I slowly move, taking it easy to get my body prepared for more as I feel Roman moving in closer to my ass. His fingers curl over my shoulder and he pushes me down until my chest is flat against Levi’s, leaving my ass up in the air, ready for him to take whatever he needs.

I bite down on my lip and push back as his tip nears my entrance, more than eager to feel him stretching me wide. Roman takes my hip with one hand to steady me and holds his cock in the other, slowly guiding himself in.

My ass burns for just a moment, and he strokes his thumb over my hips, letting me know that he’ll be gentle and give me the time I need to get comfortable.

Letting out a strained breath, I lift slightly off Levi’s chest and pull at his mask until his inviting lips are staring back at me, and without wasting a goddamn second, I press my lips to his, letting his intoxicating kiss distract me from the pain.

My body relaxes and I quickly get used to the feel of them both buried deep inside me, and only when I’m ready do I push back against Roman, silently letting him know he’s good to do his thing, though I just hope he doesn’t fuck me like he did on the hood of the SUV. It’s one thing to have a man slamming into your pussy like that, but my ass has given strict instructions that whoever shall pass, shall do so with the utmost respect.

Catching my drift, Roman starts to move, going slow and steady while also fucking me deep. He moves back then thrusts his hips forward as I come up slightly on my knees, giving Levi space to move up into me. They match each other’s thrusts, one pushing in while the other pulls back. It’s the most erotic kind of dance. I fucking love it.

Roman pulls me up off Levi’s chest and curls his hands around my body, holding me tight to him. He grips my right tit with one hand as his other trails down my body, only stopping when his fingertips brush over my clit.

A sharp gasp tears out of me, and as he starts rubbing tight little circles, just the way he knows I like it, my gasp turns into a needy moan.

Marcus moves into my side, his big cock proudly standing at attention, and I can’t resist taking him into my mouth. My fingers curl around his base, gently squeezing as my mouth closes around him, and just because I like achieving a standing ovation from everything I do, I look up at him with my big blue eyes as I flick my tongue over his tip.

I work up and down his long cock until I feel him at the back of my throat, using both hands wherever needed. The boys hold onto me tighter, and while they still remain silent, their short hisses of breath lets me know that I’m giving them more than what they bargained for.

Roman and Levi pick up their pace, fucking me harder until I’m groaning around Marcus’ cock. My eyes roll back in my head, and despite only coming a moment ago, I can already feel my body reaching its limit.

Hands roam over my body. Teasing. Grabbing. Pinching. Flicking. And I cry out, the sound muffled by the bulging cock halfway down my throat.

Each stroke, each touch, each thrust, pushes me closer and closer to the edge, and just as Roman’s fingers close around my clit and give a gentle pinch, my body completely comes undone.

My orgasm rocks through me and everything clenches. I squeeze both Roman and Levi as the walls of my pussy begin to spasm and my brows pull together, concentrating hard on not biting down on Marcus’ cock. The high explodes through me and it’s so intense that tears spring to my eyes.

My body instantly goes weak and Roman holds me up, refusing to let me give up now. The boys keep moving and the high only gets wilder and more intense, then just as I reach my absolute peak, all three of the brothers come hard.

I taste Marcus in my mouth, feeling him spurting his hot seed right into the back of my throat as Levi grips low on my hip, his whole body flinching as he pours himself deep into my cunt.

Roman thrusts hard and stills behind me, his fingers digging into my hip as his others keep circling my clit. As they all slow their movements, I swallow down everything Marcus has on offer before finally pulling back and releasing him.

Heavy pants tear from my chest as I try to catch my breath, and as Roman releases my hip, I fall forward, barely catching myself before slamming heavily into Levi’s chest. Roman’s hand splays on my lower back as he gently pulls from within me, being careful not to hurt me, and as he moves away, I’m left with just Levi. “What the ever-loving fuck just happened?” I breathe, dropping my hand on his chest beside my face.

Levi’s heart races under my ear as he simply stands and cradles me in his arms. Marcus and Roman are nowhere to be seen, but something tells me they still have their eyes on me. Levi goes to make a move and I raise my head off his chest. “Wait,” I call out.

He pauses and I reach for the bar, nearly falling out of his arms as I curl my fingers around the white rum, pulling it into the safety of my arms. “Alright,” I say, glancing up at Levi with his mask still firmly in place as I uncap the rum and bring it to my lips, needing all the help I can get to bring me down from such a wicked high. “March on, soldier. There’s still two hours before your dealer is supposed to show up and I wanna do it again.”

27

A loud buzzer sails through the mansion as I walk in through the living room to find the three boys. A devilish grin settles over Marcus’ face as he glances back at Roman, who couldn’t look more bored if he tried. He quickly looks my way, and before my heart even gets the chance to clench, his dark eyes are gone again.

“Is that the dealer?” I ask, pausing in the doorway, trying to convince myself that his silent rejection doesn’t sting, especially after he spent twenty minutes buried in my ass.

Levi glances back at me, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge of what we’ve spent the last few hours doing, and damn it, I’m lucky I can even walk. “Sure is,” he says, pushing up off the couch and holding out a hand.

Reaching out, I gingerly take his hand as Marcus pulls out a phone and presses a button that I’m sure has something to do with the front gate. We all walk out to the massive foyer and a soft groan slips through my lips at the dull ache between my legs.

It’s only been a few hours since the boys surprised me in the bar, and I can’t even believe it happened. It was everything and more. The way they touched me and had my heart racing. I couldn’t get enough. Having just one of them to myself is incredible, but getting all three at the same time? God, no woman on earth could possibly be this lucky.

I can’t help but watch through the side window as the dealer speeds down the long driveway in a beat-up piece of shit car. A laugh bubbles up through my chest. “Wow, he came prepared for a show,” I tell the boys, more than amused by the shitty car he probably just stole off the street, though I’m not going to lie, I prefer the black Mercedes he was hauling drugs around in last night.

The shit box pulls to a stop and Roman reaches for the door, pulling it open and sending a cool breeze blasting through the foyer. We step out into the night and watch the dealer from the top of the stairs.

He gets out of the car and looks up at the massive home with apprehension. He’s nervous and he should be. The boys have never invited him anywhere, let alone a private dinner at their family home. It’s not normal protocol for a dealer and his suppliers, it’s so abnormal that just the thought of stepping inside this property should have him shitting his pants.

The dude puts on a brave face and looks up at the boys with a tight smile before reaching into the back and grabbing a bag, most likely filled with the cash he owes them. Assuming he doesn’t know what’s been going on with Giovanni and his sons, he probably thinks this is their way of sending a message about the missed meet a few weeks ago. He probably assumes that if he gives the boys what he owes them and more, he’ll get knocked around a bit and then sent on his way.

If only he were smart enough to know what happens when you cross one of the DeAngelis brothers. The asshole probably assumes he’ll be safe if he keeps kissing Giovanni’s ass.

He throws the bag over his shoulder, and judging by the way Marcus’ body stiffens, he doesn’t trust this guy one bit. Who knows what the hell he’s got hidden within that bag, though we’ll know soon. There’s no way the boys will let him get a foot inside their home without checking him first.

The dealer reaches the top step and gives the boys a tight smile. “This is about the money, isn’t it?” he questions boldly before tossing the bag at Roman’s feet, the light sheen of sweat across his forehead suggesting that he’s just a tad nervous. “I swear, the other week was a complete shit show. I had the cops on my tail and had to clear out for a while. Everything I owe you is in there.”

Roman watches him for a moment, completely ignoring the bag at his feet. The silence is loud and the boys allow it to go on just long enough for it to feel uncomfortable. “Why don’t you come inside?” Roman suggests. “We’ve put out quite a spread.”

My stomach growls at the thought of finally getting a meal, but something tells me the only thing getting roasted tonight is him.

He gives a tight smile but clearly seeing no way out, he nods and allows Roman to lead him through the door. The dealer walks by Marcus, Levi, and me, and we wait a moment before turning and following them through.

The big doors fall closed behind us, leaving the bag of cash out on the front steps, and as we walk back through the foyer, I glance up at Levi, my brows furrowed with frustration. “So … when Roman said that we’ve put on a spread, did he actually mean that? Cause I’m starving,” I murmur, keeping my tone low enough so that my whining doesn’t ruin whatever stoic, tension-filled vibe Roman is going for.

Levi glances down at me, his brows pinched as he tries to figure out if I’m being serious or not. “You haven’t eaten?” he questions. “It’s almost the middle of the night.”

I shake my head. “Why would I?” I question, confusion settling deep in my veins. “You guys invited this asshole for dinner. I didn’t want to spoil a good meal, but now I’m kinda wondering if ‘dinner’ was a code word for something else.”

A smirk pulls at his lips. “It’s definitely something else,” he says. “Why don’t you go and eat. We’ll handle this. Besides, what we have planned for this guy … it’s not exactly something you’re going to want to see.”

My brows arch high, and just like that I know that I’ll be hanging around for as long as it takes. What’s a little hunger in the middle of the night?

“So, uhhh, nice place you’ve got here,” the dealer murmurs, trying to ease the tension in the room while effectively cutting off every thought of food sailing through my mind. “I bet it would have cost a pretty penny to build something like this.”

“Wouldn’t know,” Roman says in a bored tone, not even bothering to look back as he continues leading the guy through the mansion. “It’s my father’s place.”

My eyes all but roll right out of my head. If anyone knows anything about building mansions and the costs that go into it, it’s Roman, but apparently that’s not exactly a topic he feels the need to discuss, not tonight anyway.

“Your father’s place?” the guy stammers out, his eyes widening just a fraction, his first real hint that things aren’t quite what they seem, though he should have figured that out the moment Roman called and invited him here. “Are you guys … uhh … house sitting or something like that?”

“Something like that,” Roman mutters darkly, his tone taking on a subtle hint of excitement, one that only people who have been around him for a while would be able to point out. “He’s on an extended vacation.”

“Oh, umm … cool,” he says, trying to shake off his unease.

Silence fills the mansion once again, but the second Roman leads us out the back and into the cool night’s breeze, the odd tension seems to fade away. We walk for another minute, and I do all that I can not to wrap my arms around myself and start shivering. This is definitely a blanket and warm fire kind of night, but I’m not about to destroy whatever vibe the boys are going for by having my teeth chattering in the background.

Roman leads us out to the massive courtyard that overlooks the most stunning, modern pool I’ve ever seen. There’s a light layer of fog resting on top of the water, and the expensive lights built into it make it appear as though it’s glowing. A small fire pit has been set up, and I try not to be so obvious about my relief.

Roman finally stops walking and indicates to one of the many chairs around the fire. “Why don’t you take a seat,” he offers as his brother drops down next to the warm fire. I do the same and immediately lean forward in my chair, not bothering to scoot all the way back into it as I feel the warmth brushing across my skin.

The dealer hesitantly takes a seat, and I don’t miss the way he cautiously watches Roman. I don’t doubt that he’s heard everything he needs to know about the men sitting around him. He would have done his homework, and considering he’s been working for Giovanni long enough to be in his top ranks, he’d know more than the average shit-kicker dealer found out on the streets.

Roman walks back toward a fully stocked bar and glances toward our guest. “What’s your poison?” he questions, grabbing a few glasses, presumably for his brothers.

“I’ll take whatever you’re having,” he says, his gaze flicking around the small group as he tries to make a show of relaxing, but to be completely honest, he looks anything but relaxed. In fact, he’s doing nothing but making himself appear constipated.

Roman goes about his business pouring drinks, and I try not to smile at the way he pulls out a bottle of white rum and fills it just enough before adding a few cubes of ice, just the way I like it. I’ve got to give it to him, the asshole certainly pays attention.

Marcus and Levi rest back in their chairs, both of them keeping their heavy gazes on the dealer, undoubtedly making him even more uncomfortable as they wait for Roman. Their twisted little moves have me pressing my lips into a hard line, desperate to focus on anything to keep me from laughing.

Roman finishes what he’s doing and piles up the drinks on a silver tray before setting it down on a table and handing them out, leaving me for last. As Roman hands me the cool glass, our fingers brush and his sharp gaze holds mine for just a moment, kicking my heart into gear.

I swallow hard as I take it from him, but when his expression hardens and he snatches his gaze away, anger pours through my veins like molten lava scorching everything in its path. The fuck does he think he’s doing looking at me like that? It was only a few short hours ago that his thick cock was buried deep in my ass. The least he could do is offer me a smile. For fuck’s sake.

Trying to ignore his usual asshole tendencies, I focus on the game at hand.

The dealer is offered a drink and as he takes a long, needy sip, I realize that after all this time, we’ve never even asked him his name, but then, I guess it no longer matters. When the cops come knocking on the door, questioning if we know a man by the name of blah, blah, blah, we can honestly say that we don’t, which is nice in this world. Honesty is rare around here and it goes a long way.

Finding a pair of balls, the dealer drops the glass to his thigh and glances up at the boys, skimming his gaze around the circle, bypassing me, and coming back to Roman, who’s obviously taking the lead on this one. “So, what’s this all about?” he questions. “I assume that it’s not often you invite your dealers for a late drink.”

Roman lets out a breath and leans back in his chair. “You’re right,” he says, his gaze dropping to the contents of his glass as I notice Dill and Doe prancing across the yard as though only just realizing that we’re out here. “We don’t like to bring people into our lives. We’ve always been private men; however, your sales skills have managed to catch our attention, and because of that, we have a proposition for you.”

His brows fly up into his hairline and he gapes at Roman as though he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “A proposition?” he questions, a sigh of relief in his tone. “I thought this was about missing our meet the other week.”

“We’ll get to that,” Roman says, a dark hint in his tone. “For now, let’s discuss what you can do for us.”

A grin pulls at his lips as he leans forward in his seat, the flames from the fire sending flickering beams of light across his face. “I’m listening.”

Roman pauses a moment as Dill and Doe come to sit by us, casually watching the fire all to the dealer’s horror. His eyes widen with fear at the massive wolves, but he keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear whatever the fuck Roman has to offer him. “You strike me as a smart man,” Roman starts, bullshitting his way through this by starting with a compliment. “So I am sure that you would have heard whispers that my father is being run out.”

His brows shoot up again. “I, ahhh, no. I hadn’t heard that.”

Roman nods. “Well, consider yourself now in the know,” he says before continuing. “My brothers and I will be taking over the family business, which means there will be some changes.”

“How am I supposed to fit into these changes?” he questions. “I’m just a street dealer.”

“You’ve shown promise,” Roman admits. “Your ability to sell products is like none other that we have seen … at least not for a while. Taking over our father’s business means that we will be taking over his stock, and we’re going to need someone to move it for us.”

The dealer watches Roman through narrowed eyes, and I can see the gears ticking inside his head. “How much product are we talking?” the dealer questions. “There’s only so many connections that I have in this industry. I’m not sure how much more I could move.”

“Not even for a handsome bonus?”

Interest sparkles in his eyes and he takes a moment, throwing back what’s left in his glass. “I mean, that’s a full-time job right there. What you’re asking of me, I’m going to need access to planes, cars, shipping containers.”

Roman nods, understanding how smuggling drugs works. “That’s no problem,” he says. “Perhaps you could use the same ones that you’ve been using while working for my father.”

His eyes bulge just a fraction before trying to school his features. “I, uhmm. I’m sorry? Your father? I’ve never met your father.”

Roman scoffs and stands, swirling the contents of his glass again. He begins pacing behind the chair and I watch how the dealer focuses on every last step. “You know what really gets to me?” he questions, pausing to meet the dealer’s terrified gaze. “Snakes. Liars. Scumbag dealers who were placed into my life by my father with the intention to fuck with me.”

The guy stands, violently shaking his head as he holds his hands up, feigning innocence. “I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just a dealer. Nothing more.”

Roman’s eyes sparkle. “And I’m just a businessman, nothing more.”

The dealer pales, knowing all too well that Roman is so much more than just a businessman—they all are. “Look,” he starts. “I don’t know where you would have heard something like that. Someone clearly has a vendetta against me and wants to see me slaughtered, maybe a competitor. I know Gia Moretti’s dealers are feeling the sting since I’ve been taking their customers.”

Roman laughs. “You think Gia is threatened by a dealer making a measly ten, maybe twenty grand a week in stolen product? You’re a bigger fool than I thought.” Roman leans against the backrest of his vacated chair and focuses his hard stare on the dealer as the wolves stand beside him. “We were at the warehouse last night. We saw you with our own fucking eyes. You signed your own death sentence.”

The glass drops straight out of his hand as his whole fucking life flashes before his eyes, finally realizing that fucking with Giovanni is one thing, but fucking with his sons is an entirely different game.

Roman steps around his chair as Marcus and Levi both stand, blocking his escape, though with Dill and Doe standing by, he won’t even get a step before they’re on him.

Marcus steps around the back of my seat and leans forward, curling his hand around my throat as his lips skim over the sensitive skin on my neck. His thumb moves in a gentle circle, skimming right over the artery in my throat. “When in doubt,” he tells me, a deep, wicked excitement building in his tone. “Always go for an artery.”

A thrill shoots through me and I sit up a little straighter, my eyes wide.

Roman moves in front of the dealer, his eyes deadlier than I’ve ever seen them. “Do you know what happens to men who try to fool us? Men who plot and plan for our destruction?” he pauses, letting his words sink in. “They die by our hands, their throats torn right out of their bodies.”

The man gapes at him and in a last-ditch effort to try and save himself, his fist rears back and he throws a punch right at Roman’s face, but there’s nothing quite like Roman’s reflexes. He catches the man’s fist in his hand, mere inches from connecting with his jaw.

The dealer gasps, fear rattling him as he holds Roman’s hard stare. “Doe,” Roman demands.

And just as Roman releases the guy’s fist and turns his back, Doe bounds past the small fire and launches herself at the dealer, giving him only the slightest warning before slamming into his chest. The dealer screams as Doe effortlessly takes him down.

Savage growls tear through the night as her teeth gnash against his skin, going straight for his throat. She grabs hold of him, her head violently whipping from left to right as blood spurts up around her in a horrendous wave. I gape at the wolf. My precious, sweet Doe who rests her giant head in my lap, who cries for her brother when he’s injured. I knew she was capable of wicked things, but I never thought she could do something like this.

Blood sprays across the pool, splattering in the water as a chilling scream tears from the dealer. He fights against her hold, desperate to get her off him, but she’s far too heavy. Not even one of the boys could force her off, not now. This sweet girl is in the zone and there’s no stopping her until her job is complete.

She keeps at him, the growls and scuffles in the night like nothing I’ve ever seen. Perhaps this is the scene the boys envisioned for me when they told the rest of the world that I’d been mauled by a bear … though perhaps I don’t want to know.

Marcus’ lips move over my skin. “Are you ready?” he breathes. “Any second now.”

And not a moment later, Doe tears the dealer’s throat right out of his body, sending a spray of blood far and wide. She shakes her head, flicking his throat around like a toy before looking back at Roman with a proud stare. Roman nods to her, and with that, she struts away and plops down beside Dill, dropping the throat in front of him like a gift as the dealer’s body convulses and shakes.

28

A heavy pang of regret settles into my chest as I curl my hand into Levi’s, threading my fingers through his. “Are you ready for this?” I murmur, hating how heavy today is going to be.

We stand outside the castle the boys had called not only home for so many years, but their own personal prison. I knew today would come eventually, but nothing can prepare somebody for this, nothing will ever make it okay.

Levi shakes his head. “No, but it has to be done. She’s been suffering up there for too many years. Her body should have been put to rest a long time ago. We owe her this.”

I nod before glancing up at him. He’s been taking it the hardest. He’s always blamed himself for his mother’s death, but he couldn’t be more wrong. Roman and Marcus got more time with her, and have more vivid memories, but Levi was too young and doesn’t get to remember her in the same way that his brothers do.

“Come on,” Marcus murmurs, his tone heavy and filled with a deep kind of pain that tears at my chest. “Standing out here and staring at the castle isn’t going to help put her to rest.”

Roman lets out a heavy sigh and makes his way toward the front door as the early morning sun begins to peek out over the mountains, sending a ray of light shining down over the castle. I’m not into spiritual things or believing in some kind of ultimate power, but if that ray of sunlight shining down on us isn’t some kind of sign, I don’t know what is.

The rest of us follow Roman with heavy hearts right up to the very top of the castle. Memories of my time here assault my thoughts. Some were good, hell some were incredible, but others were so horrendous that just the thought of ever reliving them has me in a ball of sweat. I can’t even imagine how it must feel for the boys having to come back here. Hell, they still have a whole lot of shit they need to move out. Those few loads they took a few weeks ago didn’t even make a dent in the piles of shit they’ve accumulated over the years.

It takes a lifetime to reach the top room of the castle, and as we push our way through, the heaviness hits me in a whole new way. The boys were only kids when she passed, and they never got their chance to say goodbye. Sure, it’s heavy and my heart is plagued with grief, but this is their mom. Whatever I’m feeling right now, they’re feeling it so much harder, and because of that, I need to do everything in my power to be strong for them—even Roman who couldn’t possibly allow himself a moment of weakness.

The room looks just as we left it—creepy as fuck.

Snow White lays in her frozen coffin, her face barely visible through the frosted-covered glass. I hated coming in here the first time, and I hate coming in here now. I’ve only just been able to stomach the fucked-up things the boys like to do in their spare time, but this is a whole new level of fucked up. I don’t know what the hell Giovanni was thinking putting her away in here, but I don’t doubt for one second that the boys will do whatever it takes to make this right.

Marcus lets out a heavy sigh, his heart out on his sleeve for the world to see. His gaze lingers on the coffin and the brave man I’d seen downstairs is a complete stranger to the man I see now. “Sorry, Mom,” he murmurs. “It’s time.”

He spreads a blanket out on the floor as Roman steps around him, moving toward the side of the coffin. All three of them look sick with what they have to do, but without them, their mom would be doomed to rot in this frozen casket until the end of time.

Levi steps around the opposite side of the blanket before moving into Roman’s side, and I keep out of their way, wanting to give them the privacy to do this themselves. I’d offered to stay down in the car or chill out in the living room while they took care of business, but Levi wanted me here.

Roman’s fingers curl around the side of the frozen casket and linger on the hinges for a short moment, knowing that once they crack that seal, there’s no turning back. He mutters something to Levi, so quiet that I don’t hear them from across the room, but whatever it is has Levi letting out a pained breath before finally nodding.

Roman pulls on the hinges and strains against them, the frozen glass working against him as Marcus moves into his other side. The hinges finally come free with a deep crack and the glass top of the casket slowly begins to rise.

Marcus puts his hand on the lid, helping it along, and when it finally opens all the way, the three of them just stare. “She looks just as I remembered,” Roman murmurs, a soft smile playing on his warm lips. “A little rough around the edges, but she still holds that subtle softness.”

Marcus scoffs. “You’d be a little rough around the edges if you were frozen solid too.”

Roman gapes at his younger brother as Levi’s eyes bulge out of his head, struggling to hold onto a laugh. His lips press down into a tight line, but the laugh is too strong and comes tearing out of him. Levi tries to choke it back down, desperately trying to swallow the booming roar but there’s absolutely no hope.

A grin pulls at the corners of my lips as Marcus smirks at his brother, pleased to have at least one person find humor in this dark moment.

As Roman stares at Levi struggling to control himself, his lips strain against his will, pulling at the corners. “Do you find this funny?” he demands.

“No, no,” Levi says, shaking his hands while trying to rein it all in. “Not at all, but apparently you do.”

Roman glares at his brother, his lips instantly settling back into their usual tight line, not pleased to have been called out for almost breaking down his carefully structured walls. “Let’s just get this done.”

A newfound seriousness comes over them as Roman reaches down to his dead mother’s decaying body. Marcus hovers close by as Levi seems to take a hesitant step back, horror deep in his eyes. The boys have lugged a million dead bodies around the streets of the city and have never had an issue, but this one is different. This one hits home.

Roman’s arms slip under her body, and as he goes to lift her out of the coffin, Marcus scoops in beneath him. “Careful of her head,” he rushes out, cradling her head as though it’s the most precious jewel in the world. His hands become knotted into her matted hair as Roman holds her close to his chest.

The two of them carefully step back together, terrified of disturbing her fragile body before slowly lowering her down to the blanket. Roman gets down on his knees, his heavy eyes expressing everything he refuses to say out loud.

Once she’s safely on the ground, Roman moves back and Levi hesitantly takes the edge of the blanket and drapes it over her body. Tears well in my eyes. For so long, I thought the boys were incapable of feeling this deeply. I thought they were monsters, unable to recognize basic human emotion, but every single day they continue to surprise me. They continuously force me to reconsider every judgmental thought I ever had about them.

They’re deep, honest men with hearts bigger than anyone I’ve ever met, but they’ve been broken and shattered over and over again. They’ve been forced to build cement walls around their hearts to not only protect themselves, but to protect their brothers. They’re stronger than I could have ever known, and it makes me hate their father more. He turned them into these beasts, stripped them of their innocence, and forced them into a world where they were corrupted and destroyed. He deserves the most brutal death, and I can’t wait to give it to him.

The boys’ mother disappears beneath the blanket and my brows furrow, not understanding why they need it. They could have just carried her out to the car like they usually do, but I guess maybe they want to do this with a little more respect. Besides, she’s been dead for twenty-something years, and I doubt they’ve ever had experience with a corpse like this. There’s no telling what could happen once her body begins to thaw.

They secure her in the blanket, and before I know it, Roman is scooping her into his arms again. He holds her bridal style instead of the over-the-shoulder bullshit the boys generally reserve for me.

Everybody stands back, allowing Roman to walk out first, and the somber look in his eyes is enough to bring me to my knees. He refuses to meet my stare, and I don’t blame him. I’ve been pushing him too far, forcing him to feel things that he’s probably not ready to admit, but now isn’t the time to push. If he needs to talk, I need to trust that he’ll come to me.

We follow Roman back out of the massive castle, and I hope to God that this is the last time I’ll have to be here, despite how this place still somehow feels like home to the boys. Once everything is said and done, I’m sure we’ll build a place of our own. Hell, maybe we’ll even get a kick out of knocking down Giovanni’s family home just to build our own in the boys’ image, a home where Roman can raise his son and have a family. I don’t know if I’ll fit into that, but the idea of not being a part of that new life darkens something deep in my soul.

We step out through the main door and it’s still crazy to me that the door opens and closes just as it was always intended. The keypad is fucked and there’s no way to keep anyone locked inside. We’ve come so far in such a little time, but the war on the horizon still terrifies me.

Snow White is placed gently into the trunk of the big SUV, and within moments, we’re sailing out through the massive iron gates and through the rolling hills. The drive is silent, each of us staring out the windshield with heavy hearts.

My fingers curl through Levi’s and I hold onto him with everything I’ve got, wishing that I could somehow take his pain. He loops our joined hands over my shoulder and pulls me into his side, needing me close, and that’s exactly how we stay until Roman brings the SUV to a stop four hours later.

Climbing out of the SUV, I glance out at the rolling, grassy hill that overlooks the sandy, crystal-clear beach below. “It’s beautiful,” I breathe, not intending to have said the words out loud.

Roman steps past me, moving toward the trunk. “It is,” he says. “I think she’ll like it here.”

Glancing back at him over my shoulder, he meets my heavy stare and I nod. “You’re right. It’s perfect.” Roman holds my stare for a moment, and as something softens in his eyes, I know that he’s going to be alright, but that doesn’t take away from just how hard this will be.

Reaching into the trunk, Roman scoops his mother into his capable arms as Marcus grabs the three shovels stashed in the back. Together, we walk as one to the very top of the green hill, and I smile as I find the grass littered with little white and yellow flowers.

Looking out from the top of the hill is a scene that takes my breath away. The sky is a rich blue with not a cloud in sight, and the late morning sun shines down upon us. The breeze flowing in from the ocean brushes against my skin, blowing my hair back off my face. I can only imagine just how beautiful the horizon would be at sunset. The boys really have chosen an amazing resting place for their mother. She’ll be happy here.

The boys get busy digging a deep hole as I drop down in the long grass beside their mother. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the chance to see the incredible men your three boys have turned into,” I tell her as I straighten her dress and fix her hair, making sure it’s perfect, the way any Mafia wife would have wanted to be presented. “You would have been so proud of them. Though perhaps you’ve been watching over them all this time and already know just how amazing they are.”

I like to think that on some level, she can hear me, but I’m not completely insane. Not yet at least.

Glancing down at her one last time, I fix the blanket around her before stepping away.

One by one, the boys take a break from digging and sit with their mother, telling her about their life, telling her the things that no mother should ever have to be burdened with, telling her how desperately they wish she had been able to stick around, how badly they needed her.

Each word that tears out of their souls kills me, but I keep my gaze on the water below, offering them what little privacy I can, until finally, the hole is as deep as it’s going to get and the boys are ready to say their last goodbye.

Marcus and Roman jump down into the bottom of the deep grave as Levi crouches beside his mother. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his eyes softening with pain as he scoops her into his strong arms. “We should have done better by you. We’ll see you again Mother. I swear, we’ll make you proud.”

And with that, he lowers her body into his brothers’ arms to be laid into her final resting place. She’s covered up with the blanket, protecting her body the best way they can before Levi offers them a hand and pulls each of his brothers out of their mother’s grave.

A heavy silence settles over the hill, and even the soft whistle of the breeze seems to fade as the boys fill the grave one shovelful at a time. We each sit at the top of the hill, looking over the ocean as the sun sinks lower and lower until finally, it kisses the horizon, plunging the earth into vibrant shades of pink, orange, red, and yellow.

29

Roman

My hand balls into a fist as it hovers by Shayne’s bedroom door. I’ve come past here four fucking times already, and each time I’ve walked straight by, too fucking pussy to stop and say what I’ve been meaning to say for so damn long. Once those words come out of my mouth, there’s no taking them back.

Shayne has been a rock to me, though she wouldn’t know it. She’s kept me grounded and focused through all of this. She keeps me breathing. Without her, I would have gone off the rails. I owe my life to her. I would have run full steam ahead into a shitty situation and lost everything, but she helps me see the clear picture ahead. She’s been forcing me to live, not just sail on by without a fucking care in the world. I don’t know how, but she’s breathing life back into me, and in return, I’ve been a fucking prick.

I can’t handle it. Once I tell her that she’s somehow become my whole fucking world, she becomes an even bigger target with an even bigger chunk of my soul to destroy if she were to be taken away from me, just like every other woman I’ve allowed into my world.

It’s fucked up. Loving her means to keep her at an arm’s distance, but a woman like Shayne would never accept that. She’d tell me to shove my fucked-up need to keep her away straight up my ass and fuck off with it. What can I say? The girl has a way with words.

My hand falls away and I mentally berate myself for being such a soft cunt. Shayne would never back down like that. She’d grab the fucking bull by the horns and force him to listen to her. She’s a stubborn spitfire like that.

Soft murmurs come from within the room, and instead of pulling away, I find my hand coming straight back up. The door isn’t closed properly so I give it a gentle push, sending it gliding across the top of the plush carpet.

My brothers lounge back in her bed, Levi sprawled across the end while Marcus lays on the opposite side, his hand braced behind his head. Shayne sits cross-legged beside him, and her gaze immediately snaps up to mine. Suspicion rises in my chest, but as I take in the scene a second longer, I realize that no one’s been getting their rocks off in here, at least, not yet. There’s no telling with Shayne. My brothers are hornbags and she’s generally down for anything they throw out there.

Not going to lie, I’ve never been so fucking jealous. Every night I hear them fucking her like they can’t breathe without her, but little do they know, the sound of her whimpers, gasps, and pleasured groans have me crippled, gasping for air. Every. Fucking. Night.

I’ve been lucky enough that she’s allowed me close, allowed me to touch her just long enough to keep the blood pumping through my veins, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be without her any longer.

It’s been a few days since we sat up on that hill, saying our final goodbyes to our mother, and there’s been a big gaping hole in my chest ever since, and while my brothers see straight past it, Shayne hasn’t. She sees me like no one ever has before.

Her eyes linger on mine and without a single word spoken between us, she knows why I’m here. She scoots across her bed moving closer to Marcus, placing her hand down in her vacated space and silently inviting me over.

I can’t fucking resist.

I push in past her bedroom door and my brother’s murmured scoff sounds through the room. “Look who finally made it past the door,” Levi grumbles, not bothering to look back over his shoulder.

Irritation stirs in me as I keep walking, but when Marcus’ gaze lifts to mine, my hand immediately begins reaching for the switchblade in my pocket. “What was that?” he questions, a smirk resting on his lips. “Your fifth attempt?”

The blade flies from my fingers, plunging deep into the pillow beside his face, making Shayne gasp in surprise. “Come and say that to my face,” I warn him.

Marcus goes to make a move, not one to back down from a fight, but Shayne puts her hand on his hip, keeping him grounded. “Knock it off,” she mutters, slicing a hard stare toward Marcus. “This is my safe space. There’s none of that bullshit going down here. Is that understood?”

Marcus rolls his eyes and settles back into his position beside her as he yanks my knife out of the soft pillow and makes a show of sliding it into his pocket, warning me that I’ll never see that particular blade again, but as Shayne’s eyes come back to mine, I couldn’t care less.

My brothers talk quietly between themselves, but it’s clear that Shayne has absolutely no interest in whatever the hell they’re talking about, her attention is all mine. I stride up toward the side of her bed, and don’t fucking hold back. I’m done with that shit. What’s the point of denying what’s so clearly in front of my face?

Dropping down onto the side of her bed, I curl my arm around her side and pull her down to me. She catches herself against my chest, her soft fingers splaying against my shirt and no doubt feeling the rapid beat of my heart beneath.

Her curious eyes linger on mine as I look up at her. “You okay?” she murmurs so softly that I doubt my brothers can hear her. “Do you need to talk about the baby?”

I shake my head. “As much as it kills me to admit, I think he’s perfectly safe with my father. He won’t physically hurt him, not while he’s still so young. The abuse didn’t start for us until we were able to understand what the fuck was going on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. He’s a cruel man, but he understands that children are born innocent. He’ll have some poor woman working night and day to care for the baby, only checking in every now and then to ensure that he remembers his face. Then when he’s a few months old, he’ll start to nurture him just enough to make him love, just so when the time comes to destroy him, it’ll hurt that much more.”

Shayne closes her eyes, the reality of my father’s plan for my son darkening a piece of her corrupted soul, but as she opens her eyes again and looks deep into mine, her brows furrow. “That’s not what you’re here to talk about, is it?”

I don’t respond, but I don’t need to. She knows me on a deeper level than I even know myself, and I don’t know how the fuck that happened while I was busy pushing her away, but she gets it. She always has.

My hand falls to Shayne’s on my chest, and I curl my fingers around the soft skin of her wrist, feeling the steady beat of her pulse below and watching the way her eyes widen with understanding. “We don’t have to do this,” she whispers, giving me the out she’s so used to me needing.

My hand curls up around the back of her neck and I pull her down to me, feeling her breath across my lips. “It’s time, Empress.” The softest whisper escapes her lips before she closes the gap and brushes her lips over mine. She kisses me softly, too scared to push for what she really wants, knowing how quickly just a bit of pressure could have me backing right out of her room.

Shayne pulls back and her gorgeous blue eyes meet mine, seeing just how serious I am about this.

“Out,” she demands, her chest rising and falling with rapid movements as she holds my stare.

“Huh?” Levi grunts, his head snapping up to try and steal her gaze away from mine.

Shayne kicks her foot out, connecting with his hip and sending him sprawling back on the bed, and if she’d kicked him any harder, the fucker would have gone flying right onto the floor. “You heard me,” she says, reaching behind her to pinch Marcus under the arm. “That goes for you too. Both of you, out.”

Marcus jumps away from her as he whines. “What, why?”

A grin pulls at my lips. He makes it too easy to mess with him. “Because I’m going to fuck your girl until she forgets who you are,” I taunt him, knowing she’ll never go for the idea of just being mine, especially not now that she’s head over heels in love with my two asshole brothers, though I don’t know if she actually realizes it yet.

Shayne groans and shoves me in the ribs before glancing back over her shoulder to Marcus. “We just need to … talk,” she tells him.

“Right,” he scoffs.

“Go now, Marcus,” she warns him. “Before I tell him how you told me about the time you shot him in the ass when you were kids.”

Betrayal tears through me as I gape at my brother. “We made a pact,” I spit. “Where’s your sense of loyalty?”

Marcus shoves Levi in the back before glancing down at his nonexistent watch. “Oh, shit. Is that the time? We better get going.”

The boys disappear through the door and I don’t miss the way Marcus pulls the door shut behind him, going the extra mile not to click it into place, but in all honesty, an easy escape is probably in both of our best interests, seeing as though the two of us have rarely had a single conversation that didn’t include trying to tear each other’s head off.

Shayne’s soft gaze falls back to mine. I swallow hard as I scoot up on her bed, leaning my back against the headboard so I can meet her eye to eye. Wanting to be right in front of me, she moves over me, straddling my lap before nervously gripping the hem of my shirt and playing with the material between her fingers.

Her gaze drops, and I catch her chin before she can lower it. “Don’t,” I rush out. “Don’t look away from me.”

Her brows furrow and she watches me for a moment, the silence growing louder between us. “Why now?” she whispers.

“You know why,” I tell her. “It’s been there since the very beginning, and I know you feel it too. I can’t deny it anymore, Shayne. I can’t keep pushing you away.”

“I don’t want you to.”

My gaze drops to my arm where the tattoo of her bite stares up at me and a hollowness spreads through my chest. “I’ve put you through the worst kind of hell,” I remind her. “I’ve done terrible things. I’ve denied you over and over again, pushing you away like you mean nothing to me. I’ve hurt you, Shayne. I didn’t trust you when it mattered the most. You should still be pushing me away. You deserve so much better than me.”

“You’re right,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing over the tattoo. “I’ve spent months trying to tell myself that what I feel for you isn’t real. Especially after what happened when Marcus got shot. I wanted to hate you so much, but you just kept showing up for me, you always have. You’ve protected me the only way you knew how, right from the very start. You made it impossible for me to hate you, and I don’t want to keep trying. I want to be with you, Roman. I’m not scared of this.”

My dark gaze bores into her innocent eyes. “You should be.”

Shayne shakes her head and hesitantly brings her hand up before brushing her fingers over the side of my face. I can’t help but lean into her touch, letting it soften something deep inside my chest, something I’ve never quite felt before. “When will you finally realize that denying yourself happiness and love isn’t living at all? Everything has always been taken from you, and I don’t know how he’s done it, but at some point in your life, your father has made you believe that to fall for someone is to be weak, and I don’t believe that for one second. I think being vulnerable and opening yourself up to someone else, to let them in, shows that you’re stronger than he could ever be.”

“You’re making me question everything I’ve ever known, Shayne, and that scares me more than the thought of losing you.”

She shakes her head. “You’re never going to lose me,” she murmurs. “Don’t you see? You’ve had me since day one. I’ve always been yours.”

A grin pulls at my lips as the seriousness in her eyes begins to fade. “I don’t suppose you mean just mine?”

Shayne’s lips twist into a crooked grin that has something fluttering deep inside me, something I’ve never experienced before. Is this what that weird butterfly thing is that chicks are always talking about? “No chance in hell,” she tells me. “Me and your brothers are a package deal. If you want me, then you need to accept that I’m wholeheartedly theirs, just as I am yours.”

Her fingers twist into the back of my hair, and I can’t help but notice how the tension seeps out of her shoulders. “I just have one question,” she says, her eyes locked onto mine. “Why now? You’ve always been so adamant that we would never happen. You’ve been pushing me away every chance you got. I just … I don’t understand.”

Silence consumes me as I try to figure out my response. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. I think it was burying Mom. She was barely my age when my father took her life, and it got me thinking just how short life can really be. What if that was you? My father could have easily ended your life when he took you to those cells in the desert, and I can’t stop thinking about how I never would have gotten the chance to tell you how fucking badly I have craved your touch since the second I laid eyes on you. Life is too fucking short for me to keep pushing you away. We could all be dead next week, and I want to live knowing that if I were to get a bullet through the head, I had everything I needed.”

“You’re really sure about this?”

I nod, hating that I’ve pushed her away so much that she barely believes me now. “I’m sure, Empress. I won’t push you away anymore. I can’t promise that it’s always going to be easy. You’ve got three assholes who fight, argue, and get jealous over the stupidest shit. We have short tempers and throw fucking switchblades when challenged. But bear with us. I call you Empress for a fucking reason.”

“Really?” she murmurs, her brows arching with interest. “And why’s that?”

“Because I’ve always known that you would rule over us. It was inevitable.”

Her eyes sparkle with the sweetest warmth, and it’s almost as though I can feel the heat spreading through her veins. She adjusts herself on my lap, moving in closer, still hesitating as she doesn’t know how to be with me yet, what boundaries she can push and where she needs to hold back. She leans into me, her eyes hooded as I feel her soft breath brushing over my lips. “Are you in love with me, Roman DeAngelis?”

My voice drops to a soft whisper as my lips move over hers. “Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

Shayne sinks into me and captures my lips in a deep kiss, a soft moan rumbling deep in her chest. Satisfaction and pleasure roll through me and hope surges through my veins. Fuck, I think I even feel a shred of happiness for the first time in my life. A weight lifts off my shoulders and is replaced with a fiery freedom that crashes through my chest, and for the first fucking time in my life, I feel as though I could do anything, and it’s all because of her.

My hands curl around her waist as my lips pull into a smile. Is this what I’ve been missing this whole time?

Holy fuck. I feel invincible.

A laugh bubbles up my throat and my arms curl tighter around her waist, pulling her in hard to my chest. A breath escapes her and she laughs as the hunger takes over. A needy groan vibrates through her chest as she reaches for my shirt, quickly bunching up the fabric and tearing it over my head. Her hands instantly come back to my body, roaming all over my skin as though she can’t quite get close enough.

Her desperation to have me spurs me on, and while I want to take my time, the need to be inside her pushes me on. I’ve only felt those tight walls of her sweet cunt around my cock twice, once on the hood of the SUV and once on the rooftop, and hell, I doubt she even knows that was me, but I’ve craved it every moment of every day since.

Our teeth gnash together, desperate and wild as my hands fist into the back of her tank. I tear it clean off her body, pleased to find no bra standing in my way. The fabric falls between us and she pulls back, breaking our kiss as she pants to catch her breath. My lips drop straight to her neck, exploring every inch of creamy skin that I’ve dreamed of tasting for the longest time, and she’s so much more than I bargained for. Her taste, her feel, her touch.

Fuck, I’m a goner.

She grinds on top of me, and even through her tiny shorts, I feel the heat coming off her. She’s ready and nothing is standing in our way, not now. My cock strains against my sweatpants and a groan pulls from deep within my chest. I have to have her now.

My arm curls around her waist and I go to throw her down, more than ready to worship every inch of her body, but more than that, I need to taste that sweet cunt on my tongue. I need to watch her come undone under my touch. I need to make her scream, but apparently, I’m not the one running this show. “No,” she growls, her hand snapping out and catching the headboard before I get a chance to throw her down into the soft blankets.

My brows furrow as I meet her heated stare and she shakes her head. “You’ll get your turn,” she pants, tightening her grip on the headboard. “But I’ve been waiting too fucking long to slide down over your thick cock and ride you, and nothing is going to stop me.”

Well, fuck. How could I deny a woman who speaks such sweet words?

I ease up on her waist, letting her know that the floor is all hers. Whatever she wants, she’s going to get. Hell, even if that means I get to fuck her a million times before I get the chance to finally taste her. It’ll all be worth it. Gripping her hair, I pull her head back, forcing her eyes to mine. Her lips hover so close that I can feel her heated breath mixing with mine. “Do your fucking worst.”

A devilish, dark sparkle hits her eyes, and a grin stretches across my face. I think I just unleashed a beast, and holy fuck, I’m so down for it. And to think she was the one trying to send me and my brothers back down to hell, but I’m starting to wonder if she’s more devil than angel.

She reaches down between us and slips her hand inside my sweatpants, her tight little fist curling around my straining cock. Satisfaction rocks through me. I’ve jerked off a million times since meeting this little she-devil, and nothing can compare to the feel of her fist squeezing my cock.

With my sweatpants restricting her movement, I lift my hips, raising us both off the mattress before yanking my pants down, giving her free rein to do whatever the hell she wants. “Holy shit,” she breathes, her forehead dropping to mine as she tries to catch her breath. “How are you all so big?”

A wicked grin pulls at my lips, and sure, hearing her referring to the size of my brothers’ cocks ain’t really the best thing for a man’s ego in this position, but considering our fucked-up little relationship, I’ll have to let that one slide.

Sensing her desperate need to be touched, I pull her up off my lap just enough to tear her shorts down her gorgeous thighs, and damn it, she’s not wearing any panties. She kicks them off the second she can, and I don’t waste any time lowering her back down, feeling just how ready she is for me.

Shayne grinds against me as she pumps her fist up and down, roaming her thumb over my tip and grinning with excitement flashing in her bright blue eyes.

She’s fucking gorgeous, but when she looks at me with that devilish little smirk in her eyes warning me that she’s about to fuck me like a goddamn boss, it’s all I can do not to come right there in her hand.

Shayne presses up onto her knees, and not being able to wait a second longer, she positions my cock right by her entrance and slowly lowers herself back down, her heat consuming me like never before. She groans and gasps the lower she gets, gripping my arms and digging her nails into my skin as she adjusts to my size.

She goes balls deep and I suck in a hiss of breath through my teeth. “Fuck,” I growl, the rumble vibrating through my chest as she gasps and rocks her hips, adjusting herself. “I’ve missed this sweet cunt.”

My hand curls around her body, traveling down until I can grab a handful of her perfect ass. I squeeze tight and she rocks her hips again, making us both flinch with undeniable pleasure. She eases up on my arm and settles her arms around my neck, balancing herself before she truly starts to move. “Oh, fuck,” she moans before a sharp grunt and gasp sail through her lips.

She bounces on top of me, her slick pussy moving up and down my cock, coating it in her arousal. Her head tips back and I capture her bouncing nipple in my mouth, flicking my tongue over the tight bud. “YES, ROMAN!” she cries out, a light sheen of sweat coating her body as she gets worked up.

She slams down over me and my cock flinches, her tight pussy effortlessly gliding up and down my length like a fucking glove made just for me, proving just how amazing she is. I always knew she’d fuck like a goddamn pornstar.

She squeezes me tight, and I release my grip on her ass cheek, slipping my hand down further and feeling where we meet. My fingers mix with her arousal, and I pull back just an inch, slipping them up higher to her ass and pressing against it. She gasps and then groans. “Oh, God, yes,” she says, breathing heavily as I apply a little more pressure to her ass.

She pushes back against me and I grin. “Fuck, you’re a greedy little thing.”

“Don’t fucking deny me, Roman DeAngelis. Give me exactly what I want.”

I push deeper into her ass and love the way she comes alive under my touch. Hell, I didn’t think any woman was capable of giving more energy than what she was already giving, but Shayne continues to surprise me. She goes off like a fucking rocket, squeezing my cock tighter as she moves up and down.

She rocks forward, grazing her clit against me. “Oh, fuck,” she cries out, throwing her head back and groaning low. I’m desperate to shoot my load deep inside her needy cunt, but there’s no way I’m about to spoil the show. I’ll hold out as long as she needs, even if it kills me.

She takes me deeper, harder, and faster, and my fingers bite into her creamy skin. “Shit, Roman,” she cries out. “I’m going to come.”

Damn fucking straight. I can’t wait to feel her come undone around me.

I thrust up into her, taking her even deeper before flicking my tongue over her nipple. She groans, her eyes clenching as she pushes herself just a little bit further, wanting everything she can get, and fuck, I don’t blame her. I’ve made her hold out for so damn long.

Her arm tightens around my neck as I pull her in closer, our bodies grinding against one another while she moves, then as she rocks her hips forward and her sweet little clit rubs against me, her body breaks into a wild spasm.

“Shiiiiit,” she moans, her cunt squeezing and convulsing around me, shattering into a million exhausted little pieces. She throws her head back, her eyes clenched and her grip tightening on me, and fuck, I let myself go, coming hard into her tight cunt, pouring every last drop deep inside her.

“Holy fuck, Empress,” I breathe, straining to catch my breath. I’ve been fucked by all sorts of women in a million different positions, but nothing even comes close to the way she just made me come.

Her body slowly begins to relax as she collapses into me, panting to catch her breath as her pussy continues to spasm. “Oh my God,” she mutters, her lips moving over my shoulder as I curl my arm around her body again, holding her close and keeping her from falling into an exhausted heap on the mattress. “That … fuck.”

She trails off, not having the energy to complete her sentence, and I smile, knowing I just found my forever.

Shayne takes a moment, slowly regaining her energy, and only when she starts to wriggle on top of me do I raise her chin off my shoulder and catch her lips in mine. “I hope you weren’t finished,” I tell her, pulling back from our gentle kiss before lowering her down to the mattress and hovering over her spent body. “Because I’m hungry for dessert.”

She sucks in a breath as I lick my lips, and without wasting another goddamn second, I slide down her body, spread those beautiful thighs, and finally close my lips over her sweet little cunt.

30

Shayne

My knees shake as I make my way to my private bathroom in disbelief. Surely I’m imagining the last two hours. That had to have all been in my head.

Roman. Fucking. DeAngelis.

Hooooly shit.

I knew it would be good, but goddamn, he had a lot of time and effort to make up for and make up for it he did! I’ve been with him a handful of times, but it’s either been as a group or a thorough pounding with the sole intention of clearing his head. The emotion was always taken out of it, but what we just did … that was different. It meant something and it was everything I’d hoped it would be.

Roman DeAngelis has finally cracked and admitted what we both have known from the very start, he’s wickedly in love with me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s been pushing me away since day one, but every single time, it’s only made the connection between us stronger. Now, the only problem is getting me to admit the same.

I know the feelings are there, same with both Levi and Marcus, but actually saying them out loud is terrifying. Maybe the boys are much stronger than I am, after all. But to be fair, those three little words may have slipped out with Marcus, but I was in the moment, my back slammed up against a small closet door during a ball, and I can’t be blamed for the word vomit that tore out of me after such a thorough fucking.

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I prance to the shower, leaning in and turning the spray on full blast as I allow myself only a moment to come to terms with everything that’s just happened.

Does this mean that Roman and I are together now? I’m almost certain it does, but when a man like Roman DeAngelis is making the rules, one can never be too sure. All I know is that the moment he stepped into my room and looked deep into my eyes, I knew it was time. And hell, it’s been a long time coming.

A soft gasp slips through my lips as I step directly under the water, far too distracted by Roman to have checked the temperature first. The water quickly warms and I ease back into it, tipping my head under the hot spray. I’m covered in a sheer layer of sweat, and after two hours of hot, needy fuckery, this shower is like a sparkly, bright red cherry on top.

After rinsing shampoo from my hair, I grab the soap and lather it between my hands, and just as I’m about to spread it over my body, a soft rap sounds at the door before it’s pushed open. “I’m gonna figure out something for dinner,” he says. “Are you all good in here?”

His eyes darken as he watches my hands roam over my body, spreading the soap over every inch of skin. “I’m more than good,” I tell him, my tone dropping at the sheer memory of his thick cock pushing deep inside of me as his lips claimed my throat, but today, his tongue was definitely the MVP. This man has skills that most could only dream of. “Perfectly alright, unless there’s something you needed …”

A low groan tears from deep in his chest as my soapy hand travels lower and lower down my body. “Fuck,” he murmurs, swallowing hard, mesmerized by my movements. He adjusts his cock in his pants and if it weren’t for the fact that he has one hell of an important business meeting to prepare for after dinner, he’d probably already be in here with me on my knees and his thick cock hitting the back of my throat. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

My hand dips between my legs and a soft gasp slips between my lips as my thumb brushes past my clit. My eyes flutter at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, but as I focus on Roman again, his eyes are flaming with a wild need. “What a shame you’re busy,” I taunt. “I’ll have to call one of your brothers up here.”

His eyes blaze and I laugh, pulling my hand back. I’m more than happy to go again, but I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little worn out. I’ve been dicked high and low, left and fucking right. One dick, two dicks, three. This pussy needs a break, if only for a night. “Go,” I laugh. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

His dark gaze narrows as he watches me a moment longer, but after a short pause, he finally nods. “Okay, just call out if you need anything.”

A warm smile spreads over my face, and as the strain from his need seeps away and he’s left with nothing but adoration, I’m once again reminded of just how fucked up this is. It’s going to take some getting used to. Hell, what are we supposed to say to each other now that I don’t need to argue with everything he says? I’m sure we’ll find that common ground eventually and everything will just fall into place, but it’ll definitely be an adjustment.

Roman goes to walk away, and as his gaze drops, it immediately becomes plagued with deep thought. The door closes between us and I let out a heavy breath. He’s nervous about tonight’s meeting with the family, all three of the boys are, but I believe in them. They’re going to gain the family’s loyalty and Giovanni will have no choice but to bow out.

Not wanting the boys to get lost in their thoughts for too long, I quickly finish in the shower and grab a towel. I dry off and get myself sorted out before stepping back out into my room and finding something to wear that demands respect but doesn’t scream desperate. The options are endless, but at the same time, I also feel as though I have absolutely nothing to wear. After all, tonight’s meeting is going to be monumental, and I want it to be perfect.

Fuck, it sucks being a woman.

After twenty minutes of back and forth, I settle with a pair of black pants, knee-high boots, and a crop. Fuck the whole trying to impress bullshit. It’s too hard. I gave it a good try, but I can’t keep changing my mind like this. It’s driving me insane. Besides, if they don’t like me the way I am, then fuck them.

Striding out of my room, I listen for the boys. I can faintly hear Roman down in the kitchen, and the soft thumping of Levi’s drums sails through the air. A sweet peace settles through my chest. I could more than get used to a life with the boys. It’s unconventional, but it’s perfect.

My stomach growls and I start making my way down to Roman when goosebumps spread over my skin and an unsettled feeling fills my stomach. My back stiffens and my gaze shifts through the hallway as the odd sensation of being watched nags at me.

I narrow my gaze and take a slow breath, turning and looking up and down the hall to find it completely empty. “Marcus?” I question, my tone dropping with suspicion. I’ve had this strange feeling once before, and it came just moments before the three DeAngelis asshats stalked me through the castle with the murder puppies. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, but the assholes won’t be getting the best of me like that again.

Marcus doesn’t step out of the shadows, and I let out a frustrated groan before turning back and continuing down the hall. “I know you’re there, Marc,” I mutter, knowing damn well he hears me. I keep moving but guilt slams through me, and I find myself pausing to look back at the shadows. “I know I told you that Roman and I were just going to talk, and well, I think the neighbors even know how that turned out, but I swear, this doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Silence. Complete fucking silence.

I roll my eyes and turn back. I guess tonight we’re playing games. Marcus has been possessive since the very start of our twisted little relationship, so I’m really not surprised. Though, it would be a shitload easier on everybody if we just sat down and talked it through like normal people do.

I pick up my pace and grin to myself as I feel him keeping up with me. He can be an asshole at the best of times, but sometimes, his assholery is just the right kind of twisted that sends the best kind of thrill soaring through my veins. Now, if he wants to stalk me right through the property and into a dark room, I’d be down for that.

The dirty little thought pulls my grin wider and I pick up my pace, seeing just how ready he is to play, and as I glance back over my shoulder, I see the slightest glimpse of his black hoodie disappearing into an open doorway, I laugh.

“Well, well,” I tease, stopping and turning back. “Isn’t it funny how the tables have turned?”

I start heading back toward the room, ready to catch him in the act in the most twisted game of hide and seek, and just as I reach the open doorway that looks into the darkened room, Roman’s voice comes trailing up from the kitchen. “Dinner, fuckwits.”

The soft thumping of the drums stops before Levi’s deep tone bounces through the mansion. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, irritated about having to stop. “Coming.”

I take a step into the dark room just as another voice cuts through the silence. “Only fuckwit around here is you,” Marcus calls through the house, his deep tone coming from downstairs.

My eyes widen with fear as my heart leaps out of my fucking chest.

Oh, fuck.

A petrified scream rises in my throat but before the sound can come tearing from between my lips, a dark figure comes bounding out of the shadow, his dark eyes locked right on mine. His hand slams over my mouth as his tight grip curls around my waist.

My heart’s rapid beat is almost painful, and I struggle to catch a breath, my pulse deafening in my ears. The stranger pushes me back against the wall, shining just a ray of light on his face, and proving once and for all just how wrong I’d been.

The man is all versions of tall, dark, and handsome with one hell of a strong grip, but one thing is for sure, I have no fucking idea who he is. Short, black dreadlocks frame his sculptured face as black eyes stare back at me. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” he warns me. “Scream, and I’ll kill your little fuck toys downstairs, is that clear?”

Panic surges through my chest as I try to figure out a game plan. The man is far too strong for me to try and get away, but there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to take out the guys. There’s one of him and three of them.

I slowly nod, and the man hesitantly releases his hand from my mouth, allowing me to suck in a deep breath. “What do you want?” I spit, fixing him with a lethal stare.

“Tell them you need a minute,” he demands, his tone fierce and full of authority, yet there’s something there that tells me he’s not about to pull a knife and slaughter me, so there’s that. But then, can I really trust that?

I swallow hard, not sure what to do, but he’s not exactly giving me a choice. If I scream, I’ll most likely be dead before the boys can even get up here, but if I don’t, I’ll have to find out the hard way what he wants.

Sucking in a breath, I prepare to scream for my fucking life when he leans into me, his wide chest pressing against mine like a lead weight. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” he warns. “I have six men downstairs with three bombs set and ready. The DeAngelis brothers are surrounded and they have no fucking idea. Now, I warned you that we could do this the easy way or the hard way. What’s it going to be?”

Fuck.

There’s no way in hell I’m about to risk their lives like that, and with no sane choice left, I let out a sigh and glare at the asshole in front of me as I call out to the boys below. “Just need a minute.”

“Smart move,” the guy warns. “Now, you’re going to come with me, and you’re going to do it without making a goddamn sound.”

31

Twigs and low-lying branches dig into my skin as the too confident for his own damn good dread wearing psychopath leads me through the woods behind the DeAngelis mansion with two of his men following behind. His grip on my arm is tight, but he doesn’t hold me with the same crippling fist like others have in the past, and I have to wonder if maybe he’s not as bad as I think he is. Stupid, but maybe not all bad.

“They’re going to kill you,” I warn him as we break through the opposite side of the woods and out to an empty street. Two black SUVs sit up on the curb and we storm toward them, my feet barely able to keep up with their ridiculous pace.

“Let them try,” the man grumbles. “If they know what’s good for them, they’ll keep the fuck away.”

An unladylike snort comes tearing out of me as I glare up at the man. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?”

He glares right back. “And apparently, neither do you,” he says as we reach the first SUV. He stops by the back door and reaches around me to pull it open before making a point of staring inside the cab. “Get in.”

Everything screams at me not to get in the car, but I won’t get even a foot away before they’re on me, and I don’t want to see what happens if I try something they won’t appreciate. Besides, I have the GPS tracker in my arm now, and while I never actually checked with the boys that it’s working, I have to trust that they know what they’re doing. They’ll come for me, the only question is, how long will it take for them to realize I’m gone?

I scoot along in the backseat of the car, less than impressed to find another man already waiting inside. I try to stick to the side, but finding the dreadlock asshole moving in beside me, I have no choice but to scoot along to the center.

Dread blooms in my chest as I watch the two other men climb into the front seats of the car, and before I know it, the driver is taking off at a million miles per hour. The other SUV follows, and my brows raise. I hadn’t realized there was anyone in there. I figured it was for the other men still left inside the mansion.

We turn down a few side streets before finally pulling out onto the main highway, and I don’t miss the way the driver puts his foot to the floor, giving the SUV as much gas as it can possibly handle and shooting down the road like a fucking jet.

Three other black SUVs fall in line, and my back stiffens looking all around us as we turn into some kind of convoy. “What the hell is this?” I demand, despite knowing that I’m in absolutely no position to be asking questions.

No one answers me, but I didn’t expect them to. So instead, I sit in silence, taking note of every turn and every small detail that I wish I was privy to every other time I’d been taken against my will. Though, I have to be honest, these guys haven’t cuffed me or shoved a bag over my head, and that’s either really nice of them, or really fucking stupid. I haven’t decided yet. Either way, kidnapping 101 would highly suggest that these assholes are amateurs. The boys would never make such a foolish mistake … unless they weren’t planning on keeping this little meeting private … or maybe they weren’t planning on keeping me alive long enough for it to matter.

Fuck.

We drive for an hour before the car pulls off onto an abandoned dirt road and nerves shoot through my veins. We’ve got to be close to wherever the hell we’re going. Another fifteen minutes pass and I start to get agitated. If they’re taking me somewhere to lure the boys out, then what’s the point of hiding so far away? They’re only making it harder on themselves.

My hands ball in and out of fists on my lap and the dreadlock dude watches me, taking note of every weird little quirk and reaction as though he’s trying to make sense of me. I tune him out and after another ten minutes that seems to go on for a lifetime, the dirt road gets an upgrade and turns to gravel.

The SUV slows and I peer out the window, trying to see through the fog of dust kicking up under the tires of the cars in front. Old, rickety buildings begin to appear on either side of the road and my brows furrow, realizing this is some kind of abandoned town. There’s an old gas station, an old grocery store, and what looks like a dance studio. These places appear as though they haven’t seen the light of day for over a hundred years, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to this small town that forced everybody out, but more so, only an hour away from civilization. Why hasn’t this been bought by some big developer and turned into a mall or gated estate? It definitely has the potential and the space. Personally, I’d be happy with an epic water park, but that’s just me.

We drive deeper into this strange, abandoned town until the convoy finally begins to slow. We pull into an old factory that looks as though it might have printed millions of newspapers in a past life but now it’s just sitting here waiting to crumble.

“Out,” dreadlock guy says, his fingers curling around the door handle.

He steps out into the dusty factory, and I follow behind, squinting into the late afternoon sun that shines in through the broken windows. The dust particles catch in the light, and as a group of men form around me, I find myself looking around. I don’t see anyone else in the big factory, but that doesn’t mean that we’re alone.

What the hell do they want with me?

The men bring me to a stop in the center of the factory building and my chest tightens, realizing that I’m only moments away from finding out the reason why they’ve brought me here. Silence surrounds us, and as the seconds tick by, it only seems to get louder. I could hear a pin drop.

The familiar clicking of heels against the dirty concrete sounds from deep in the factory. The sound gets louder with every click and my heart pounds faster. It’s definitely a woman, but who? And what does she want with me?

I follow the sound of the heels, squinting into the shadows, and after three more steps, I finally see her.

A beautiful woman struts toward me in a strappy, black cocktail dress that fits her subtle curves perfectly. She’s older than me, maybe in her mid-forties, but she doesn’t look a day over thirty. Her dark hair is twisted up into a neat up-do as her soft, natural makeup gives off the fiercest don’t fuck with me vibe.

This woman is a badass, and though I’ve never met her before, I have a nagging feeling that I know who this is.

Gia Moretti.

“You’re a hard woman to get a hold of,” she says, her gaze sweeping over every inch of my body and shamelessly judging me. Her lips press into a flat line as her gaze narrows, and when she finally nods and a flash of approval flickers in her eyes, the nerves settle in my stomach. “Do you know who I am?”

My gaze narrows, certain that she has some bullshit elaborate plan to use me against the boys. “I know who you are,” I tell her, trying to appear as though the idea of being in this woman’s presence doesn’t scare the shit out of me. “I don’t know what you want with me though, but I do know that you must have an epic sized pair of balls to take me right out of the DeAngelis mansion. A feat like that doesn’t come without consequences.”

Gia watches me for a moment, her gaze narrowed. “Is that a threat or a compliment?”

My lips press into a line as I shrug my shoulders. “I have no idea. Take it how you like,” I tell her before indicating to my wrists. “I’m assuming that since I’m not bound or blindfolded, that I’m not here as a prisoner.”

“No,” she finally says. “You’re not a prisoner. Simply a guest.”

Testing her words, I hesitantly step forward, taking me out of the center of the circle created by her henchmen, and I’m not surprised to find them stepping with me. “Ahhh,” I say, arching a brow. “So, I may not be a prisoner, but I’m no guest.”

“Can you blame my men for being wary around you?” she questions. “We have been watching you for a very long time. Any woman who could have Giovanni DeAngelis shaking in his boots and gain the attention of all three of his sons is a woman who I need to know.”

Uncertainty flutters through my chest. “What do you mean you’ve been watching me? How do you even know who I am?”

She takes a step toward me, her chin raised with authority. “I know a lot of things, Miss Mariano, just as I know that you murdered your father in cold blood and slaughtered one of my men with a chainsaw.”

I shake my head as the memory of what I did to James comes crashing through my head. It was brutal and cold-hearted. It was like a wakeup call, telling me just how far I’ve fallen, but it was also done in the privacy of the boys castle playground. There’s no way she should know about that. “How … how do you know about that?”

“When you are in my position, you’ll find that people like to offer up information in exchange for—”

“Life?” I scoff, cutting her off.

“Precisely,” she says. “Now, tell me why you thought it was necessary to slaughter one of my men?”

Panic surges through me and I swallow hard, fearing that one wrong word out of my mouth could see a bullet straight through my head. “He was a nobody, just some rich asshole who thought he could get away with horrible things,” I explain. “He kidnapped a woman from her home and raped her countless times. I rescued her from him, and when he thought he could come for me instead, we casually let him know that type of behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. It was a simple misunderstanding.”

Her gaze narrows but the hard set of her jaw gives nothing away. “And what happened to the woman?”

I shake my head. There’s no way in hell I’m about to give up any information on Jasmine. “The woman is none of your concern. She’s been through hell and deserves to live in peace,” I say, fixing her with a hard stare, warning her to back off. “Now, please tell me what this is about.”

“You’re defiant,” she muses. “I like that.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, I ignore her comment and try to move her along. “You and I both know that you’re on a clock here. The DeAngelis brothers track my every move, and they will no doubt be here any minute. So, I suggest that you say what needs to be said before they arrive and rain hell over this place.”

A fond smile pulls at her lips and she nods. “You’re a clever girl, Shayne. Stubbornly stupid, but clever. You’ve figured out this world quickly and adapted to survive. Many other women before you haven’t made it this far. But you are right, the infamous DeAngelis brothers will be here shortly, and I’m sure they’ll have plenty to say when they arrive.”

“Why do I get the feeling that this is so much more than seeking revenge for killing one of your men?”

She steps toward me before slowly circling. “Because it is, dear,” she murmurs, leaning in to whisper in my ear. She completes her circle, walking right around until she meets my eye again. “James was a problem since the day he joined my ranks. You did me a favor by taking his life.”

“Then I suppose you owe me one.”

Gia laughs and shakes her head. “Let’s get one thing straight,” she starts. “I do not owe anybody anything. You took James’ life for your own satisfaction. The fact that it benefits me is purely coincidental.”

I let out a sigh. I could have seen that coming a mile away. “He was in business with Giovanni.”

“I am well aware of his indiscretions,” Gia says, her eyes darkening with anger. “However, I did not drag you all the way out here to talk about James. We’re here for you.”

My brows furrow. “Me?”

“Indeed,” she says, stepping into me again. “Why do you think Giovanni took you in the first place?”

I pull back, uncomfortable with just how close she stands. “Because my father owed him a gambling debt. I was his payment.”

Gia scoffs. “Is that the bullshit they fed you?” she demands, shaking her head and rolling her eyes in exasperation. “What a joke. Giovanni targeted you because he discovered that you are my biological daughter, the sole heir to the Moretti fortune, and you are set to inherit my position at the top of the Moretti family. He intended to marry you off to his eldest son to gain access to me and my family.”

I gape at her, my jaw dropping to the floor.

What the ever-loving fuck?

32

She’s insane, well and truly fucked in the head. “Umm … what?” I say, a laugh bubbling up my throat. My mother? The fuck is this bitch on? “Come again?”

“You heard me, child,” she says, unimpressed by my response. “I am your mother. I gave birth to you in a small hotel, deep in the heart of Seattle, twenty-two years ago. No one was to know of your existence. The Moretti family was rising in power and had many enemies. It was not a good time to be raising a child, you would have been targeted, and I could not accept that. This life is no life for a child.”

I swallow hard, trying to come to terms with everything. I never knew who my mother was. My father never spoke of her, but I learned at a young age not to ask him questions, especially ones that he didn’t believe were any of my business. “You’re my mother?” I repeat.

She nods, holding my stare. “I am.”

My heart races just a little bit faster, trying to comprehend what being the daughter of Gia Moretti truly means. “You’re my mother, and you thought shipping me off to live with my father was the best thing for me?”

She nods again. “Yes, your father was a respectable man. He had a nice home and had his finances in line, plus I supplied him with enough cash to keep you well and truly looked after. You had everything you needed. Private schools, nice clothes, a car. How dare you insinuate that I didn’t have your best interest at heart.”

A booming laugh tears from deep in my belly as I become overwhelmed by every last ridiculous comment that comes flying out of her mouth. “My father was a violent drunk,” I tell her. “He gambled every last cent we had. I didn’t go to private schools or have any fancy cars or clothes. I hid in my room at night to avoid getting beat and would eat my breakfast out of the closest trash can to avoid starvation. By the time I was a teenager, I was locking my door because I was too fucking scared that he was going to welcome himself in. You didn’t supply me anything. I suffered every fucking day and have the scars to prove it.”

Gia steps into me, gripping my chin to tear my gaze up to hers. Anger swirls deep in her eyes, though something tells me she won’t hurt me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I pull out of her grip, that same fiery anger burning in my veins. “You’ve got the wrong kid, lady. I ain’t no private school, Mafia princess.”

I go to turn when I hear the sound of tires skidding along the gravel road and relief pours through me. Whatever the hell this is can be over. The boys can take me back home, and I can pretend that I didn’t hear a damn word, or that her eyes aren’t scarily similar to mine.

Gia’s guards flinch as the boys barrel out of the car and make their way toward me, their eyes quickly scanning over mine to make sure I haven’t been harmed. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she warns them as they move closer. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here.”

Roman’s stare shoots to Gia and my brows furrow noticing how casually they move. Why aren’t they storming in like usual? Why aren’t their guns already in their hands? “You had a lot of nerve coming into my home and taking what’s ours.”

“Yours?” She laughs as all three of the boys step straight through the circle of guards, not one of them trying to stop them. “You kidnap my daughter and expect me to stand back and watch you corrupt her?”

Marcus steps into my side and curls his hand around mine, silently letting me know I’m safe, but I turn to face them, my gaze shifting over each of their guilty expressions. “You knew about this, didn’t you?” I demand, spitting my words at each of them and tearing my hand from Marcus’ as the fiercest wave of betrayal crashes through me, destroying the trust I have for the boys in one fell swoop. “How could you not tell me something like this?”

Levi clenches his jaw, his gaze snapping back to Gia’s before returning to mine. “It was part of the deal. We keep you safe from Giovanni, and she allows you to stay with us.”

I laugh, my hand curling around my stomach. “Allow me?” I scoff, turning my furious gaze on the woman who’s supposedly my mother. “You don’t have the right to allow me to do anything. Your blood may run in my veins, but you are no mother to me.”

“How dare you,” she spits. “I checked in on you every month. I paid your way through life.”

“Well, you did a fantastic job,” I scoff, turning back to the boys. “Get the fuck in the car. We apparently have a few things to discuss.”

Guilt crosses their gazes again and I shove my hand into Marcus’ side to get him moving, but Gia strides forward, halting our escape. “You are not going anywhere until I am done with you.”

I glance back over my shoulder, my irritation making me stupidly brave. “You were done with me the second you shipped me off to live with my father. You said so yourself, you were rising in power. You had the funds and the resources to raise me in an appropriate setting and keep me safe. Hell, ever heard of boarding school? Instead, you chose to send me away to a man you barely knew. Admit it, you just didn’t want to be my mother. You wanted to ship off your mistake and live your life at the top of the world.”

Gia shakes her head and something breaks deep in her eyes. “I did not know your father was abusing you. Had I known, I would have stepped in. One of my men would meet with your father once a month and return with a full report. Clearly, someone has betrayed my trust, and I will look into it.” She moves toward me and takes my hand, warmth filling her eyes. “I know you don’t want to believe me, but you are wrong. I would give it all up to go back and be the mother you always deserved.”

Sincerity pours out of her and my eyes well with tears. “What would have been so horrible about raising me by your side?” I whisper over the lump in my throat.

Gia glances at the boys by my side and shakes her head. “Look at them,” she says. “Look at the life they’ve been raised in. They learned to slaughter men before they learned to drive. How could I inflict that same life on my only daughter?”

I swallow hard and glance at the boys, a part of me knowing that she’s right, while the other part of me desperately wishes I had the life I was always meant to have. “I don’t know about you,” I murmur. “But when I look at them, I see three incredibly strong men who’ve overcome all odds. They’re not weak for being raised with their father, they just had to learn the true meaning of what it takes to survive much earlier than anyone else, and because of that, they’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Gia watches me through a curious gaze and her intense stare has me ready to crumble. “You’re in love with these three men, aren’t you?”

I nod, knowing she sees it just as clearly as I feel it.

She lets out a sigh before quickly glancing toward the dreadlock henchman. “That’s going to be a problem.”

The guard nods back to her and she returns her gaze to me. Then without a moment of warning, the dreadlock guard raises his gun and lets off five perfect rounds in the space of two seconds, each bullet spearing right through the eyes of the remaining guards in the room.

They drop to the ground and my eyes bug out of my head. “What the hell?” I screech as Marcus grabs me and yanks me behind him, all three of the boys with their guns out, two trained on Gia while the third is aimed at the sole remaining guard.

“I am sorry you had to witness that,” Gia says, not disturbed by the boys’ guns on her in the slightest. She takes a heavy breath and focuses her hard stare on me. “I’m sick, Shayne,” she finally says, telling me what it is she’s dragged me all this way to say. The boys stiffen beside me and my brows furrow, not understanding what’s going on. “I have a year, maybe two left, and when that happens, it will be expected of you to step into my position.”

Horror tears through me, but before I get a chance to tell her how sorry I am for her illness, while also telling her that she’s insane if she thinks I’m going to step into her position as head of the Moretti family, she continues. “The DeAngelis family is our greatest enemy and has been for generations. It’s taking me great restraint not to pull my gun on them now and end their miserable lives, however out of respect for you, I will not. But the issue at hand is that the moment you step into my position at the head of the family, every one of your dirty little secrets will be exposed, and the moment they discover your romantic connection to these men, you will be slaughtered like an animal.”

My gaze shifts to the dead men around us. “That’s why they’re dead?” I question.

Gia nods. “I cannot risk word of this getting out.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Exactly.”

Silence rests between us as a heaviness rests over my shoulders. I still don’t know how I feel about the most dangerous woman on the planet being my mother, and I sure as hell don’t know how I feel about her being sick and dying within the next two years and forcing me to take a long as hell walk in her shoes. It’s clear that’s why she’s come to me now, but the whole thing has my chest constricting and struggling to breathe.

Not sure where to go from here, I’m thankful when Levi steps up and asks the one question we all want to know. “So, what now?” he questions. “We’re sure as hell not giving her up.”

Gia shakes her head, her eyes constantly coming back to mine. “I don’t want you to give her up,” she tells the boys. “I want you to continue to keep her safe, keep loving her, keep giving her the life she was always meant to have.” She pauses as she steps toward me again. “Just know that I will always be watching, always lurking, and when it’s time, I will find you again.”

With that, she nods to her guard and the two of them start walking out of the old factory, but just as they go to step out through the big doors, I race after her. “Wait,” I call out, bringing them both to a stop. Gia looks back with hopeful eyes and something breaks within me. “Earlier when you said that I was hard to get a hold of. What did you mean by that? Have you tried to reach out before?”

A fond smile pulls at her lips as she nods. “I have,” she says. “However, your boys have erected quite the walls around you.”

“How do you mean?”

She shrugs her shoulders, trying to think of an example. “Ahh, most recently, my men broke that pregnant woman out of Giovanni’s cells.”

“What?” Roman rushes out, his eyes wide as he steps forward beside me, his hand coming out and pressing against my stomach as though he needs my physical touch to keep himself grounded. “You had Felicity?”

“Was she yours?” Gia questions, her eyes hardening at being interrupted by none other than a DeAngelis. “I figured that baby belonged to one of you.”

“What did you do to her?” Roman demands.

Gia shrugs her shoulders, not at all concerned by Roman’s relationship with Felicity. “The usual. She knew the castle and we figured she’d be our best shot at gaining access to Shayne. We freed her from your father’s cell and told her that if she could get Shayne out, that she could keep on running with her own life. We gave her the gun, the passport, and the getaway car. She had everything she needed to succeed, but she still failed. She was weak.”

Roman steps forward and the guard flinches. “She was captured and put back in a cell to rot. You could have saved her.”

Fury rises in Gia’s eyes, and she moves right into Roman, his height dramatically towering over her just as it does me, but yet she manages to appear so much taller. “I let her go, even after failing her only task. I released her. My men didn’t pursue her in the woods. It is not my fault that she was captured again, and it’s certainly not my fault that you three were too daft to go after her.”

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” she snaps. “It wasn’t just your father’s men in the woods that night. You slaughtered my family right along with his, something I will not forget.”

“Don’t act as though I’m the villain here,” he warns her. “You brought your men onto my turf. It’s not my fault they got slaughtered, that’s on your shoulders. You know the rules.”

Pushing Roman’s hand down from my stomach, I force my way between them, giving Roman a hard shove back, as let’s face it, I don’t have big enough balls to shove Gia as well. “Okay, I think everything has been said that needed to be said,” I tell them, nodding to Marcus and Levi to take their brother off my hands before he barges right past me and starts another war that we’re not in the position to fight.

They step in and pull Roman back and Gia does the same, giving me space before turning her heated gaze on me and visibly trying to calm herself. “It would be wise to keep this knowledge of your lineage to yourself,” she warns me. “It would not be good for anyone if word got out that I had a daughter. There are a lot of wicked men gunning to step into my position, but the only person I see strong enough to lead a family like mine, is you.”

I nod and she takes another step back. “You best get out of here,” she says. “Don’t you have an important meeting to get to?”

Marcus stiffens along with the other two and shoulders in front of Roman. “How the fuck do you know about our meeting?”

She gives him a thumbs up. “Good job on plausible deniability,” she taunts. “Gold star for you.” Meeting his blank expression, she rolls her eyes. “I am Gia Moretti of the Moretti family. It is my job to know when my enemies are falling, and you three, are most definitely falling. It was a brave move, I have to give you credit for that, but I have stood against your father for too many years. He will rise again, and when he does, you three better watch your backs … that is, if I haven’t beaten him to the punch.”

Gia grins at the boys, the insinuation thick in the air that at least one of the men in the DeAngelis family is feeding her information, and fuck, the boys don’t like it one bit.

Without another word, Gia promptly disappears with her dreadlocked guard, leaving me with only one thing to do—curse these three motherfuckers out until my throat bleeds.

I slowly turn, the rage boiling inside me, and as I meet their heavy stares and watch the guilt pour across their handsome features, I take a deep breath, knowing damn well that there’s about to be some long as fuck sentences tearing from deep inside me, and this bitch is gonna need all the help I can get. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU ASSHOLES?” I demand. “YOU KNEW THAT GIA FUCKING MORETTI WAS MY FUCKING BIOLOGICAL MOTHER AND YOU DIDN’T SAY A GODDAMN WORD? FUCK!”

Roman lets out a heavy sigh and steps between his brothers, putting himself right in front of me. His fingers brush over my arm and I flinch away from him, the betrayal stinging me like never before. “Come on,” he murmurs, his brothers hesitantly moving in behind him, more than ready for me to whoop their bitch asses. “You can curse us out in the car, but Gia is right. We need to get back home before we miss this meeting, otherwise we’ll lose them for good, and everything we’ve worked for will be all for nothing.”

I glare up at him, my sharp stare boring into his liquid lasers. “Fine,” I tell him. “But I’m driving, and you better believe that I’m going to take it out on the car, and don’t think for one second that you will get a fucking word in. The three of you are going to sit in the back in complete silence and I’m going to curse your bitch asses until my throat is raw. Got it?”

They all nod and I turn on my heel, stalking back toward the black SUV only to see Gia’s car escaping from the back of the property. “Hurry the fuck up,” I tell the assholes at my back. “Get in before I leave you here.”

And just like that, I storm around the car and get in the driver’s seat, having to slide the chair forward just to be able to reach the pedals. My fingers slam against the automatic start and the engine roars to life as the three sorry fuckers who thought it was a good idea to betray my trust slide across the backseat. The door has barely closed behind Marcus when I hit the gas, and without skipping a beat, I let them have it.

33

Expensive Lamborghinis and Ferraris litter the front drive as I bring the SUV to a stop outside the DeAngelis family mansion. “Fuck,” Marcus mutters, the first word he’s said the whole way back. “Can’t you park around the side or something? All these motherfuckers are going to see us climbing out of the back together like a bunch of delinquent school kids.”

“Get the fuck out before I cause a scene,” I tell him, my throat scratchy from yelling at them for the last hour.

The boys groan and slide out of the car as I cut the engine. Family members who look just like them watch from the top of the stairs and I smirk at the slight embarrassment filling their veins. Though, it won’t last long. They’re at the top of their game. They could be caught with their pants around their ankles, fucking a custard pie while singing Mary Had a Little Lamb and they’d still manage to look like the most lethal men on earth.

Small victories, right?

Roman and Marcus walk ahead as Levi waits for me, not wanting me to walk alone into a room full of DeAngelis Mafia killers with questionable morals. His hand presses against the small of my back and as he leads me up the grand stairs, I find myself falling closer into his side.

“Can we put everything aside and show a united front, just for the next few hours?” he questions, his tone low and private. “Then I swear, after that, you can go back to hating on us.”

“Lucky for you,” I mutter darkly, “my throat is too sore to keep cursing your bitch asses out.”

“Good,” he says, sending a tight smile to some dude lingering on the stairs. “After this meeting, I’ll find something to ease your throat and we can explain how we found out about your … lineage.”

I groan and pause, stopping him as I glance up into his addictive, dark eyes. “If anyone finds out in there—”

“They’ll kill you,” he says bluntly, finishing my sentence. “You cannot let it slip. These guys … they put on a brave front, but when it comes to Gia Moretti, they’re shit scared. She’s not someone our people want to fuck with, and until now, we’ve happily lived side by side. While our family is significantly bigger, hers is a new brand of brutal, and that’s saying a lot coming from me. She’s not a forgiving woman, and the fact that she stood back and allowed Roman to mouth off to her like that speaks volumes. She has big plans and for whatever reason, she needs me and my brothers alive for it.”

Panic flutters through my chest as I glance up to the top of the steps to find Marcus and Roman watching us, making sure we’re alright. “Is she going to come for us?”

Levi presses his lips into a tight line and slowly shakes his head. “No, I don’t believe so. I haven’t had much experience with the woman, but I do believe that she is genuine in her feelings toward you, and I don’t think she will do anything to jeopardize that relationship, at least, not yet.”

Fuck.

I swallow hard and nod before continuing up the stairs. Roman and Marcus wait for us, and as one, we push through the doors to find the foyer flooded with bodies. I suck in a breath. I expected a lot of things when walking in here, yet for some ridiculous reason, I hadn’t expected them to bombard us at the front door.

“Shit,” I breathe, scanning over all the faces that turn our way, annoyed to have been held up. “Would it have killed you guys to lock the door before coming after me?”

“They would have found a way inside whether the door was locked or not,” Roman murmurs, handing out fake smiles and curious glances, wondering which of these assholes will finish their night by stabbing them in the back. I have a few guesses, but one can never be too sure.

Nerves bloom deep in my stomach as we make our way through the formal dining room, and I can’t help but notice a few familiar faces from the ball a few nights ago. But unlike the ball, those faces are now filled with apprehension, pinched brows, and frowns.

Tension fills the room, but that tension is nothing compared to the feeling of stepping through to the empty dining room to find the boys’ grandfather sitting at the head of the table as though that’s where he belongs.

Roman sighs deeply, and I follow the boys as they make their way through the extravagant room, all eyes focused on their grandfather. I don’t miss the way that each of their shoulders pull back and the tight muscles beneath become rigid and hard.

“Grandfather,” Roman mutters in welcome, clearly not too thrilled to see him so soon again after the ball, but it’s not as though this meeting was avoidable.

The old man leans back in his seat, his thumb twisting over the heavy gold rings lining his fingers as he places a glass tumbler down on the table. “What is the girl doing here?” he demands, his deadly stare trailing over me with distaste, reminding me so much of Giovanni. “These meetings are not open for women, and especially not the current whore of the month. Do away with her.”

Marcus laughs. “That’s not going to happen,” he says as we reach their grandfather. The three boys step around him, surrounding his chair and making his eyes nervously flicker toward them. I hang back, not wanting to be in the way of this particular pissing contest.

Marcus leans down, hovering by his grandfather’s side. “Shayne stays, but you on the other hand … you’re in our seat.”

Their grandfather scoffs and pushes back in the chair before standing and turning to face them, not daring to step out from the prime position in the room. “You three are a joke, children merely playing dress up,” he spits, the insult bouncing straight off them. “You are not ready to lead this family. Now where is your father? What have you done with him?”

Levi grins and tilts his head in that creepy way that has shivers trailing down my spine. “Come on, old man,” he murmurs. “You’ve been trying to get rid of our father since the day he ran you out, but I have to be honest, it was ballsy of you to make an appearance at the ball. Tell me, did you show only because you knew he wouldn’t be there? Sounds like a cowardly move to me.”

The old man’s eyes flash with fury as he steps out from behind the chair to shove his fingers into Levi’s chest. “Don’t you forget who founded this family,” he growls. “Without me, you three would have nothing. I built this family; I was the one who rose in power. I put in the work, and your father took it straight out of my hands as though he was entitled to it. He doesn’t know what it means to run an empire, and nor do you three smug brats. You think you can waltz in here and claim a seat at the head of my table, well think again. This is my home, my family, my blood, and you’re stepping down before you embarrass yourselves. You’ll get my family once I’m in the ground, and even then, you’ll have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

A smirk pulls at Levi’s lips and I can only imagine what bullshit is about to come flying out of his mouth. His grandfather’s eyes tighten, realizing just how easily the boys will follow through on his threat, and just as he clenches his jaw and his hand slips back for a weapon, a voice sails through the dining room. “Really, Father?” Louis says, striding toward the table and pulling out a seat. “You’re going to shoot your grandson with the whole family just outside these doors? Bold move, no matter how foolish it may be.”

My brow arches, and as if on cue, the rest of the family spills into the dining room and takes their seats around the grand table. With so many eyes on his back, the old man stands down, reaching for his glass tumbler and moving to the side. He takes a seat, directly beside the head of the table as the three brothers step into the prime position, watching in silence as their family gathers around them.

There’s no elaborate meal or fancy waiters walking around in penguin suits like the last time I sat through a business dinner, tonight is simply business. They’re here to say what needs to be said and then they’ll be ushered straight out the door, hopefully with their lives intact.

I keep myself away from the table, not wanting to stand with the boys in case it causes some kind of stir within the family, more so than what it already has. But I don’t think anybody, apart from their grandfather, has the balls to comment on it.

My gaze sails over the men surrounding the table, and I recognize a few of their faces from the ball. The boys’ cousins are here, and the way they take the chairs furthest away from Louis speaks volumes. Joseph is here, sitting away from everyone like the lone wolf that he is, and I can’t help but feel like this is some bullshit kind of high school cafeteria seating plan. Everybody sits away from their greatest threat while trying to keep a position that gives them an advantage. It’s high school politics in the flesh.

Roman stands in the center of his brothers, all three of them taking up the space at the head of the table and looking over the nervous men before them.

“Thank you all for making the trip out here tonight,” Roman starts, taking the lead as usual. “I know you’ve all had a long drive here, only to be kept waiting, and we apologize for that. However, we had urgent matters to attend to.”

Their grandfather scoffs, his tone sailing right down the length of the long table. “What could have been so important that you kept my family waiting on a day like this?”

Roman arches a brow, intrigued by his grandfather’s audacity. “If you must know, this afternoon, the love of my life, Shayne Mariano, was kidnapped and held hostage by the Moretti family.”

Gasps and roars of outrage tear through the room as eyes fall to me, each one of them probably wondering how the hell I’m still alive.

Louis stands, his hand slamming down on the table. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands. He’s certainly no fan of mine, but an attack against me is classified as an attack against the whole family, and for that, they would be outraged on my behalf.

Roman holds his hands up, indicating for the room to shut the fuck up, and that’s exactly what they do. “It has come to our attention that our father has been making plans to move against Gia Moretti and her family, and as a warning, they came into this house, our home, and took Shayne right out of her bedroom. Now clearly, we were able to retrieve her without casualty, but this is a direct hit on us because of my father’s stupidity.”

“Why would he do that?” Louis questions, his brows furrowed. “We had peace with the Morettis. Starting another war with them now would be catastrophic.”

“You tell me, Uncle,” Roman fires back at him. “I know you don’t have the greatest fondness for my father, but you’re able to read him like a book. You declared only a few nights ago that you would remain loyal to him. So, you tell me why he would make such a foolish decision that would impact the whole family?”

Louis shakes his head, pressing his lips into a tight line, lost for words. “I … I do not know. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. Giovanni wouldn’t do that.”

Roman leans forward on the table, his gaze sweeping across the room, “From the mouth of Gia Moretti herself—Giovanni has been attempting to infiltrate her family. He plans on taking her out and gaining control of the Moretti fortune. I don’t know how he intends to do that, but it is a foolish game.”

Roman skips right over the part where his father intended to marry his eldest son off to Gia’s daughter, and I’m grateful. That little piece of information can remain private for now. Hell, maybe it should stay buried until the end of time. Nobody needs to know.

“Is this the man you trust to rule over our family?” Roman continues. “Is this what you want for your future? To be at war with Gia Moretti? You know what she is capable of. She holds no boundaries, no morals. Not one of us is safe. Our children, our friends, family. Standing with my father now, is welcoming Gia Moretti into your homes, into your bed. She is a leech who will suck the blood right out of us until there is nothing left. So, what’s it going to be? Wait for my father to rise up and destroy us from the inside out, or stand with us and be the future of this family, stronger and more powerful than ever before?”

Uneasy murmurs erupt through the room as men turn to their neighbor to question what the fuck to do. From the looks of it, most of these men were planning to stand by Giovanni, trusting he will rise up and overpower his sons. But learning of his plan to stand against Gia has changed everything except how terrified the men are of the brothers before them. They’re unhinged, lethal, and reckless, and they make no secret of that. Following them could mean a world of torment, a life in chains, but following Giovanni into a war with Gia would mean certain death.

My gaze settles on the boys’ grandfather, and I watch as his smug expression slowly hardens, realizing what everyone else in the room is quickly figuring out too—the boys are going to win this. They’re going to officially gain power over the family, just as it should have always been.

A chair scraping against the marble floor sends everyone’s sharp gazes to the back of the dining room to find Victor’s eldest son. “My brothers and I have spoken at great lengths over the past few days, figuring out our next steps, and we declare here tonight, that we will support Roman, Marcus, and Levi in their rise to power. They may be brutal, cold, and heartless killers, but they are the future of this family. No leader would be stronger. They have our loyalty.”

Shocked murmurs tear through the room as wide eyes gape at the four brothers, every last person knowing that their father would be rolling in his grave right now. Though, we know something they don’t. Their loyalty doesn’t come free. The boys have to earn it, and I’m sure they’ll do so with pride.

His declaration sets off a chain reaction. One by one, men stand and declare their loyalty to the boys while their grandfather acts as though every single declaration is a personal attack against him.

Everybody has their turn, but when Louis stands and focuses his hard stare on his nephews, the tension rises in the room. “Every single man in this room is foolish to believe these three children are capable of ruling over our organization. Giovanni is not here to defend his actions. Who knows if this bullshit with the Moretti family is even true. However, my fellow family members have already made their declarations and therefore leave me with no choice but to fall in line or risk my life by walking away. Do I believe that Giovanni will return to claim what’s rightfully his? Yes I do. And because of this meeting, when that happens, every last one of us is fucked.”

Louis drops down as an amused smirk plays on Marcus’ lips. “Feel free to walk out,” Marcus tells him, his tone filled with a deadly warning, the unspoken truth about what will happen to him the second he gets up floating in the air.

A heavy silence fills the room as Louis’ hard stare remains locked on Marcus. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he finally says, grabbing his glass off the table and throwing back what’s left of it.

Marcus laughs, and I can only imagine how much his uncle’s resistance is sweetening their cousins’ deal. The boys are going to take great pleasure in ending Louis’ life, but Marcus will relish in it. He’s a special brand of crazy.

Roman slices his lethal glare to his uncle, something sinister playing in his eyes. “We won’t forget what happened here tonight,” he tells him, his lips pulling into a twisted grin and forcing a light sweat to appear on Louis’ forehead. Perhaps he forgot who he was dealing with.

Roman turns back to the rest of the table, raising his chin and the pride shining through his eyes warms something deep inside of me. The boys have wanted this for so long, and after the abuse they’ve suffered at their father’s hands, they deserve everything and more. Finally, it’s right there in the palm of their hands. Now all they need to do is hold onto it, because in a world like this, it could easily slip between their fingers. “Alright, if everyone has spoken their piece, then I say we call it a night.”

“What about your second in command?” A voice comes from across the table.

I have to step to my right to see the person’s face, and my brow arches finding Joseph, the boys’ final uncle who rarely has anything to say, nor wants anything to do with any of this. Hell, I’m surprised he’s even here. Though I have a feeling it’s out of obligation.

Roman indicates to his brothers at his side. “Do you believe between the three of us, that we really need a second in command?”

“Yes,” he says, bluntly, not trying to offend, simply just stating a fact. “Every leader who has stood at the head of that table has had a second in command. Who do we fall back on if you three were indisposed? Who will lead us then?”

Roman glances at his brothers and as one, all three of their dark gazes fall on me. “Oh, hell no,” I say, my hands flying up in defense as an eruption of rejection fills the room.

Roman’s hand slams down on the table, silencing his family once again. “ENOUGH,” he roars. “It is done. Shayne Mariano is our second, and in the event that we cannot lead, she will step into our place. Anyone who has an issue with that is invited to come and speak with us privately.” His stare meets every eye in the room, and sensing the unspoken threat, they all wisely keep their mouths shut, and with that, he indicates to the door. “We’re done here, you may all leave to spend the night with your families. As of tomorrow, we will start the search for my father, and it will not stop until he has been put down and my child safely returned to my arms.”

No one hangs around.

The room clears in a matter of seconds, and I’m not surprised when Louis is the first one out the door. The boys turn to me, and Levi indicates to the back of the room, silently telling me to follow. They make their move, big, long strides that I have to struggle to keep up with.

Marcus pulls back, waiting for me to pass before following behind me, pressing his hand against the small of my back to lead me through a hidden door in the back of the formal dining room. My brows furrow as I look up ahead of us through a dark passageway. I've never been through here before. I didn’t even realize there were passageways through here. It’s creepy, and chilling, and absolutely everything I expect out of the DeAngelis family home. They probably use these secret passageways to escape when bombarded with raids and enemies. Knowing the boys, I’d be stupid not to assume they haven’t hidden out in here a time or two just to overhear conversations that weren’t meant for their ears.

We rush through the dark passageway, and a shiver sails down my spine. “What are we doing?” I mutter, reaching out for Levi in front of me to avoid tripping over his feet.

“Coming through on our end of the deal,” Roman says from up ahead. “Now hurry up, we don’t have time to fuck around.”

My brows furrow and the boys pick up their pace. I try to keep up with them and Marcus scoops me up so I don’t get left behind. Then all too soon, they come to a stop outside an old door. Roman glances back at his brothers. “We get the drop on him. Make it fast.”

They nod and I swallow hard. “And me?” I breathe.

“Stay the fuck out of the way.”

That I can do. In fact, that I am very good at.

The door is opened just a sliver and the boys slip out the small opening as I follow behind them. We come out at the side of the property into the dark night, and I hear the hushed conversations of the boys’ family making their hasty escapes.

“There,” Levi says, nodding up ahead.

I follow his gaze to where Louis scurries away from the mansion, practically bolting to his car in order to get out of here with his life. Beyond him are Victor’s four remaining sons, waiting in anticipation. What better opportunity to take him out than now?

Roman grins and pulls his gun before twisting the silencer onto the top, not wanting to alert the other scattering family members. He holds up the gun, and without skipping a beat, takes a clear shot straight through the back of Louis’ hand as he reaches for his car door.

He cries out, roaring in pain as his head whips around, searching for the threat. His eyes are wide and fearful but there’s a dark edge hidden beneath the surface, reminding me of what the boys said months ago—Louis DeAngelis is just like them. He’s a fighter, he’s wild and unpredictable. Lethal. He needs to be pushed to the breaking point, and when he is, he turns as easily as if someone had flipped a switch.

If anyone hears his cry, they don’t look this way, trusting their basic instincts to keep moving.

The boys spring into action racing in after him as he’s blinded by the pain. They’re on him in seconds, and even with his hand out of action, he’s still able to fight back. He’s weak, and as he gets in a few punches, I realize the boys are only playing with him. I’ve seen them fight more than I care to admit, and this here is about proving a point.

Levi cuts in front of his brothers, grabbing Louis by his bad hand and twisting it behind his back. He screams out as his nephew plasters himself to his back, leaving his body exposed to Roman and Marcus. “You won’t get away with this,” Louis spits, seeing they’re clearly done playing with him.

Nobody moves, but Louis screams out again, and I can only assume that Levi tightened his grip on his hand. “We already are, Uncle,” Marcus purrs. “Look around. No one is coming for you. They all want you dead just as much as we do. Where’s your precious leader now?”

Louis smirks, a secret playing in his eyes. “Yours is going to be the shortest reign ever lived,” he taunts them, groaning as Levi tears his arm further behind his back. “Turn around, assholes.”

My head whips around just as the brothers do, and I suck in a terrified gasp, seeing Giovanni standing at the top of the property, his eyes cast down on us with a fucking wall of soldiers at his back.

Terror flies through me as the boys stiffen, furious anger streaming through our veins. Roman roars, his hand flinching at his side before lashing out like lightning, a blade slicing straight through Louis’ throat.

Time slows as Levi releases his uncle, letting his body fall heavily to the ground. Someone races toward me as shouts are heard across the property, and I’m distantly aware of them coming from Victor’s sons. Something curls around my wrist and I’m tugged back inside the secret door before feet pound against the hard ground.

My pulse thunders heavily in my ears and as I try to keep up with the boys, I realize that tonight is the night I’ve feared for so long.

Tonight is war.

34

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, racing after the boys in a complete daze, my head whirling with the unknown while fear pulses heavily through my veins. We run back in through the dining room and past the foyer where Marcus pauses for a brief second, peering out through the window to check just how long we have.

“Two minutes tops,” he curses, pushing off the wall to propel himself back to his brother. “It’s gonna be fucking close.”

“Did anyone see my baby?” Roman throws over his shoulder as Levi barges past him to tear open the internal garage door.

Levi shakes his head as I try to think back to the image of his father standing over the hill. “I … I don’t know,” I rush out, storming into the garage behind the boys, unsure where to go or how I’m supposed to be helping them. “I only looked for a second. I … I don’t—”

“DID ANYBODY SEE MY FUCKING BABY?” Roman roars, cutting me off in his desperation.

“Didn’t see him, bro,” Marcus says, reaching a big metal door in the back of the garage as Levi slams his hand against a scanner. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not here.”

A green laser scans Levi’s fingerprints before I hear the heavy bolts clanking open and allowing them access. Roman reaches past Levi and grips the metal door before pulling it back to display rows upon rows of weapons. The boys don’t waste a second, barging into the armory and loading up with everything they can get their hands on. Automatic weapons hang over their shoulders as they shove handguns in the back of their pants. With pockets full of loaded magazines and long daggers protruding from their combat belts, they seem ready for anything.

I gape at the sight, disgustingly out of my league, but what choice do I have? It’s either fight or die running. There is no hiding out or cowering in a corner. It’s time to put everything the boys have taught me into practice and hope that the assholes Giovanni hired to fight his war are as stupid as they look, because the element of surprise is the only thing I’ve got going for me, and that surprise is going to expire quickly.

Having wasted too many precious seconds gaping at the armory, I race in after the boys and grab a belt, hastily fastening it around my hips. I grab guns and shove them deep into my belt before taking every knife I can find. I strap them to my thighs and even shove a few down the inside of my boots.

Weapons dangle off me like some kind of arms dealer, and I glance up at one of the many automatic guns hanging high on the shelf. I could cause a lot of damage with a gun like that, but I haven’t had any practice, and knowing my luck, I’d accidentally shoot the boys before I could even get a clear round off toward Giovanni and his men.

I let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Footsteps pound against the marble floor in the foyer, and my heart kicks up a gear. My eyes widen, listening to the sound of feet storming toward the garage. “Roman?” a voice calls out. “The fuck you at?”

Roman’s brows furrow for a moment before stepping out of the armory and looking back toward the internal door. “Back here,” he calls out. “Load up.”

It’s only moments before the boys’ four cousins come bolting into the armory and I gape at them in surprise. I would have thought they’d have taken off at the first sign of Giovanni like the rest of this family. They quickly scan the room, seeing what they want before diving straight in.

“How long?” Levi grunts, grabbing a grenade and looking it over.

“He’s close,” the eldest cousin says. “Maybe a minute. Two if we’re lucky.”

Marcus shakes his head. “Thirty seconds.”

My eyes bug out of my head and a cold sweat settles over my skin. “Fuck.”

Roman and Levi both look my way, and I don’t miss the strain within their obsidian gazes. They don’t want me here just as badly as I don’t want to be here, but it’s in my blood. Gia Moretti is my mother and I’m apparently some kind of heir to her fortune. Backing out now would make me a coward. Besides, where the boys go, I go. They were the assholes who decided to make me their second in command, so I have no choice but to forge full steam ahead into battle.

Seeing the resolve in my eyes, the boys get back to loading up what they need, and as Roman slips a final knife into his belt, he looks back at his cousins. “You don’t have to do this,” he tells them, knowing what the odds are of each of them surviving. “There’s still time to slip out the back door.”

The eldest cousin checks over a gun and snaps his gaze to Roman’s. “We pledged our loyalty,” he mutters, his voice dark and rich with determination. “What would that make of us if we were to turn our backs now?”

Roman scans his gaze over the four boys before coming back to the eldest. “The likelihood of you all surviving this…”

His words trail off and all four of his cousins nod. “We know,” the eldest says. “Now, where is the rest of your fucking army?”

Marcus grins, and throws his gun up over his shoulder, a dark sparkle in his eyes. “You’re fighting with us now,” he says, a wicked smirk pulling at his lips, reminding me just how fucking lethal these guys are. “We don’t need a fucking army.”

We hear the shouts of Giovanni’s men outside and Roman glances over his brothers. “This is it, boys. The moment we’ve been waiting for. Remember, my son is our priority. We get him first, and then we get to play.”

Darkness swirls in all of their eyes, and I see nothing but bloodlust. They’re savages, complete psychotic heathens with the most sinister craving for blood. They’re brutal, lethal, and violent, and I fucking love it.

“Let’s go,” Roman calls.

Our group pours out of the armory, and rather than wasting precious minutes going back in through the foyer and down the massive stairs, Roman slams his fist down over the button for the automatic garage door, keeping us on ground level.

They’re going to expect us to come through the front, so whatever edge we can get, we’ll take.

We stand in front of the massive garage door as it slowly rises, and with every inch, my stomach swirls. Marcus moves in closer to grab my waist and turns me into his chest. His hand falls to my chin and he yanks my head up, forcing my eyes to his. “I’d tell you to go and hide, but I don’t think you’re going to do that. So, whatever the fuck happens out there, stay behind one of us. We won’t be able to protect you every fucking second, so you’re going to have to come to the party and do your part, but if you keep behind us, then those fuckers will literally have to go through us first to get to you.” I nod as he pauses, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Don’t try to be a fucking hero. If someone slips past us and they’re coming for you, call for us. Someone will help you. Is that understood?”

I nod again. “Got it.”

His lips crush down on mine in a quick bruising kiss that takes my breath away, and as he pulls back from me and we find the garage door high enough to slip under, my nerves start to get the best of me.

“Marc, go.” Roman demands.

Marcus doesn’t hesitate, slipping under the open garage door and taking off like a fucking rocket toward the thick brush around the property. “Where’s he going?” I rush out as Levi takes my hand and pulls me toward the garage door.

We all slip under it, the boys’ cousins sticking to us like glue. “Marc has sniper training,” Levi explains as we rush around the side of the property, far out of view of Giovanni and his men. “He’s got the best shot out of all of us. He’ll be able to take out a few of them before they even reach us.”

“Shit, but wouldn’t your father have men hidden out in the woods? You could be sending him right into a trap.”

Roman glances back at me, his eyes softening just a touch. “Marcus can handle himself,” he explains. “I don’t want you going into this worrying about us. We’ll be fine. You need to be thinking about yourself.”

Levi nods as we slam our backs up against the side of the house, lying in wait. “If things get dicey,” he says, “if something happens and we can’t save you, then I want you to find an out. Take off into the woods. Call for Dill and Doe and run for your fucking life. They’ll guide you out of the woods and to safety. Just know, whatever happens, we will find you.”

I let out a shaky breath. The thought of having to cut and run makes me sick, but if I hang around waiting for death, that makes everything we’ve been through all for nothing. “Promise me, Shayne,” Levi continues, his voice taking on a strained, hard edge. “Promise that you’ll run if it comes to it.”

I swallow hard and nod, tears filling my eyes. I hastily wipe them away, trying to gain control of my emotions. This is certainly no time to turn into a babbling, whiny bitch. “I promise,” I tell him. “But I swear to God, if you assholes die, I’ll kill you myself.”

Roman scoffs. “Nothing can kill us, Shayne. We’re the motherfucking grim reapers.”

And with that, we take off into the night.

Levi pushes me toward Roman, and I hurry after him, keeping right on Roman’s heels as he bounds through bushes and toward the very front of Giovanni’s army, ready to take them face on. I’m not going to lie, standing right at the front of the pack isn’t exactly the position I want going into this, but I trust the boys to keep me safe. Marcus is out there somewhere keeping watch over us, and I need to believe that he’s got my back.

Levi and the cousins rush off in different directions, and I quickly realize that we’re surrounding Giovanni’s army from all angles. A grin pulls at my lips. They’ll never see us coming.

Roman pulls me down into a bush that looks over the front of the property, right to where we see Giovanni strutting down the long driveway as though he’s some kind of god. His men stand at his back, not one of them holding Roman’s baby. “Fuck,” he says, his gaze scanning over each of them. “He’s left my son somewhere.”

“He’s got to be somewhere close,” I murmur. “Your father wouldn’t let him out of his sight for long. He’ll want him somewhere he could easily get to him if his plan turns to shit.”

Roman nods, agreeing with me, but the only problem is that none of us know where the fuck that could be. “Come on,” he says, his hand falling back into mine.

I follow him out of the bush, keeping in the shadows of the night. “There’s got to be at least eighty men,” I say. “I know you guys are good, but there’s no way we can take on all of them by ourselves.”

“Have faith, Empress. We’ve faced worse odds,” he says, pausing to wait for his father to get just a little closer. “Just a little bit longer.”

A few seconds tick by, and the moment Giovanni steps into the very center of the circle drive, preparing to take the stairs, a shot rings out.

One of Giovanni’s men falls with a loud cry, the bullet piercing right through the center of his head. A spray of blood decorates the man beside him, and I cringe in disgust as the blood catches in the faint moonlight.

Giovanni holds up his hand, bringing his men to a stop as they frantically search around, desperate to find the shooter, but they’ll never find him. Marcus is too good.

Another shot rings out, and a man on the opposite side of the pack drops like a sack of potatoes, the bullet piercing through his chest. He cries out in agony, and I watch as men duck down in fear. “They didn’t know,” I breathe as Roman’s hand squeezes in mine. “Your father’s brought them here to be slaughtered, and they had no fucking idea.”

“None,” Roman says. “He would have told them it was just a show of force to get us to kneel to his demands. They’re not prepared for this. They’re just random men off the fucking street. It’s a shame really, but it’s either them or us, and I choose you every fucking time.”

Another shot goes off and another before Giovanni holds out his hands. “ENOUGH,” he roars through the night, his face reddening as his gaze flicks from left to right, trying to pinpoint his sons. “SHOW YOURSELVES AT ONCE.”

Roman laughs and tugs on my hand. “Show time.”

And with that, everybody steps out, creating a barrier around Giovanni and his army.

A grin pulls at my lips, seeing Levi directly to our left and Marcus stepping from the woods on our right. Giovanni glances around, knowing just how much of a threat the boys would be coming at him from three different directions. He looks nervous, but his determination soars above that.

“Really now?” he says, holding his hands out. “You think you’re a match for me? I have a hundred men here tonight and you stand before me with nothing but yourselves and your cousins? I came for a fight, but this will be a slaughter.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Father. You’ve never fought a day in your life,” Roman laughs, mocking him like any emotionally abused son should. “What are you hoping to achieve here? We’ve already won your seat at the head of the table. The family has sworn loyalty to us. You’ve lost. You’ve got nothing left.”

Giovanni scoffs. “You threatened the family into pledging their loyalty,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But where are they now? It’s just words, Roman. If they are not standing at your back, ready to end my life, then you don’t truly have their loyalty. The family is still mine. It’s always been mine, and you are nothing but a moronic child who thinks he’s ready to play in the big leagues. Give it up, son. You can still walk away. This is your final warning. I would hate to have to end you like I did your mother, but I will.”

Roman slips one of his many guns from the combat belt at his side and in a rapid flash of lightning, two perfect rounds ring loudly through the night. The two soldiers at Giovanni’s side go down and Giovanni barely even flinches. “Too fucking late to come begging for forgiveness now,” Roman calls. “Tonight, you die.”

As if someone flipped a switch, the army roars at Giovanni’s back and comes storming toward us like a stampede, bounding around Giovanni in their desperation to take us out. Roman fires off a few more shots, effortlessly taking out soldiers as Marcus and Levi join the fray. Their cousins hit the soldiers from the back and it turns into an all-out war, the army evenly spread around Giovanni like some kind of protective shield.

There’s no way to get to him unless we take out the army first.

“Grab a knife,” Roman throws over his shoulder, preparing himself for the fight of a lifetime. “Preferably a big one.”

Fuck.

I swallow hard and grip the handle at my thigh before pulling the long dagger out of its sheath, and just to be prepared, I grab a gun in my other hand as well.

Shots ring out through the expansive property like thunder, and a bullet whizzes past my face as a shriek tears from the back of my throat. “You ready?” Roman demands as the army grows closer, his voice traveling over the roaring sound.

I swallow down my fears. I promised Felicity that I would care for her baby, and if this is what I have to do to ensure I keep that promise and get that baby into the safety of his father’s arms, then that’s what I’m going to do. “Born ready.”

Roman scoffs, seeing through my bullshit, but he nods, appreciating that I’m with him no matter what. “Let’s do this.”

We forge forward toward the army, and Roman lets off a few more shots, getting a few easy kills out of the way before focusing on the fight. He jumps straight into action, pushing himself in front of me and keeping me protected at his back, but there are too many men to hold back.

My eyes are wide and terrified as I watch men pour around Roman, each one going for him with fury, but he holds his own, far too skilled and full of power than any of them could have possibly seen coming. He’s superhuman, that’s the only way to describe it.

He slams his gun right up into a guy’s gut and pulls the trigger, effortlessly taking him down while his other hand shoots out, knocking out another soldier. Men drop as quickly as they can come, and it’s clear that these soldiers Giovanni recruited are nobodies with absolutely no formal training. Roman was right, it is a shame that we have to kill them, but they got themselves involved in this mess and now they have to suffer the consequences.

Two men get around Roman and my heart races as they come for me. Nerves pulse heavily through my veins. It’s one thing to kill a man who’s already down or chained to the fucking metal beams holding up the ceiling, but having them actively fighting and probably a shitload stronger than me, now that’s something new.

They bear down on me, and instead of bitching out or shitting my pants, I pull on my game face. I can do this. I was fucking born … well, no. I certainly wasn’t born for this, but I was trained a little bit and have a big enough chip on my shoulder that I can maybe make a good go of it.

With determination in my veins and fury in my chest, I storm toward them, meeting them before they have a chance to meet me. My dagger swings through the air and I spin widely, a battle cry tearing from between my lips. The blade sails straight through the first guy’s waist, and his eyes widen like saucers, looking at me in disbelief. His hand drops to his waist just in time to catch the contents spilling out of it, and I gasp at the sight.

“CRY ABOUT IT LATER,” Roman grunts. “FOCUS.”

Fuck.

I blink, only now realizing there are tears in my eyes and slam my hand out again, thrusting the dagger toward the second guy. He skirts out of the way and looks at me as though I’m the vilest little bitch he’s ever laid eyes on. He shoots forward, his fists come out at me, and I quickly stumble back a step, raising my other hand and pulling the trigger.

My arm jerks back with the momentum of the shot as the bullet sails toward his head, going so damn fast that I barely see the moment it tears off half his face. A scream tears from the back of my throat as he drops down, but I push my fear aside and forge forward. There are too many men crowding Roman, and I refuse to let him go down with me cowering behind him.

We fight side by side, and when things get a little shady for me, he sweeps out with a knife, amputating an arm or two. We quickly cull the soldiers, and with Levi and Marcus working their way from the side and the cousins at the back, it’s not long before I can start to see through the throng of people.

An explosion rocks through the ground as bodies are hit with the blast, flying across the property. The blast sends me back onto my ass, and just as I scramble to get back up, a heavy boot presses against my chest, slamming me back to the ground. I scream out, but all is lost as I look up and meet Giovanni’s dark stare as he presses the tip of a blade against my throat.

I suck in a breath, my body going still as I stare up into the face of pure evil. He smirks down at me, knowing the boys would move mountains just to see me smile, and with a victorious smirk, he turns his ferocious stare on Roman.

“STOP THIS NOW OR I END HER MISERABLE LIFE.” Giovanni’s voice soars over the sound of the battle, and Roman’s head whips around. His eyes go wide and I see his whole fucking world flashing before his eyes.

My heart breaks and without a moment of hesitation, he steps back from the army of men, drops his weapons, and falls to his knees before his father.

35

The battle ground turns to silence.

Giovanni’s soldiers step away from the boys, panting and gasping, half of them slowly bleeding out on the ground. They quickly gather in the center of the massive circle drive, leaving Marcus and Levi wondering what the fuck is going on. They raise their gazes and the moment they see their father standing over me with a knife, barely a flick of the wrist away from taking my life, they stumble back, the worst kind of fear flashing in their eyes.

Roman’s knee rests next to my hand and I stretch my fingers out, desperate for his touch and he quickly reaches down, grasping my hand in his. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells me.

“Now, now, Roman,” Giovanni says, tsking his son. “What have I taught you about telling lies?”

Tears spill from my eyes as I remain impossibly still, taking shallow breaths to avoid pressing up against the tip of Giovanni’s blade. My life is over tonight and I know it with complete certainty. This is the last time I will ever see the boys again. There’s no way in hell Giovanni is going to allow us to walk away from this. He will take my life to punish the boys, and they will forever be forced to live under his rule.

Roman’s heavy eyes linger on mine, and I see nothing but pained guilt and devastation. He knows it too. This is the end. I’m just another girl, in a long line of women who have been destroyed by his father.

Marcus and Levi are stripped of their weapons and shoved by the soldiers until they stand before their father, but their eyes are only for me. “On your knees,” Giovanni demands, spitting each word like they’re poison in his mouth.

They resist their father’s demands until the soldiers kick their legs out from under them, dropping them onto the bloodied grass. Marcus groans as the soldier leans over him and nails him in the ribs, and I cry out, hearing the distinct sound of his bones breaking.

Giovanni’s gaze flickers back down to me as though he’d forgotten I was here, and he looks across at one of his soldiers. “Take her,” he spits.

His heavy boot comes off my chest, and I suck in a breath as the knife backs off my throat. My grip remains locked in Roman’s, and I try to scurry away as Giovanni steps back to make room for the guard, but it’s no use. My body is weak and the more I resist, the worse my death is going to be.

The soldier pulls me off the ground, tearing my hand out of Roman’s as a pained cry pulls from deep in my chest. He drags me away, stopping only a few feet from where the brothers watch me over their father’s shoulder, each one of them staring at me as though I’m their final hope.

My arms are yanked viciously behind my back to the point where I fear my shoulders will pop out of their sockets, and as I sob in pain and fear, the soldier slams his knee up into my back. His hand circles my throat and squeezes hard. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll slit your goddamn throat and fuck you in front of your boyfriends while you bleed out under me.”

I swallow hard, not doubting for one second that he’ll try it, though one of the boys will fuck him up before he gets the chance, only that will prompt Giovanni to have to punish them, and I can’t fathom what else he could possibly do.

My heart breaks and I try to force the fear down, trying to be strong for them and figure out some kind of way out of here, but I’m way out of my league. We’re fucked with no way out.

“What about them?” one of his soldiers questions, turning back to glance at the four cousins who look much worse for wear, though the fact that they’re still alive speaks volumes. Soldiers stand at their backs, keeping them from making any kind of escape.

Giovanni’s lips press into a tight line and it’s clear that he’s conflicted with this one. Victor was his closest brother. He confided in him, and these are his only remaining sons, but apparently that doesn’t count for much in this world. “Kill them,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Make it quick.”

The cousins pull against the soldiers, grunting in agony, and before they even get a step away, they’re executed like animals. Their bodies fall to the ground and a pained gasp escapes through my lips, horrified by Giovanni’s cruelty. These were boys that he helped raise into men, he watched them grow, cared for them, and shared in their life as their most fearless uncle. They gave their loyalty to the brothers, but their hearts were with Giovanni, and yet he betrayed them like they were dirt under his feet.

The guards step over their fallen bodies and I tear my gaze away, unable to wrap my head around the disgusting display of betrayal. When the brothers kill, it’s necessary, it’s because someone has fucked up and they have a wrong to right. Sure, they do it in wild, absurd ways that get them all kinds of hot and bothered, but what they don’t do is betray those who trust them. They are cruel men, but they have kind hearts, despite what they say.

Giovanni, he’s something different. He cares for himself and himself alone, and he doesn’t give a shit who he has to step on to get to the top. He is a vile monster with absolutely no moral compass, and I hate that I won’t be offered the opportunity to tear his throat out through his ass.

Levi’s eyes linger on mine and my heart breaks. A fat tear rolls down my cheek, and as it drops to my collar, his gaze hardens, darkening with desperation. He turns a furious glare to his father and I swallow hard, already hating what’s next. “What do you want?” Levi spits, done with his bullshit games. “Name it and we’ll fucking do it, just leave her out of this. She’s already suffered enough.”

Giovanni laughs, his gaze coming back to mine. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” he says, his lips kicking up in a twisted smirk, referring to the night his guards pulled me out of my bed and he forced me to choose which of his sons should die. They were on their knees just like this, shock collars locked around their throats. He glances up and down the row of his sons and sings to himself. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, which of my sons has got to go.”

On some level, I know he’s just fucking with me, but the thought of him taking any of them to the grave has tears streaming down my face. “Fuck you,” I spit, my words struggling through the soldier’s tight grip on my throat as I do whatever I can to take his attention off his sons. “Where’s the baby?”

“The baby?” he laughs, pulling a phone from his pocket and holding it up to the boys. “Oh, you mean this one?”

Roman’s face pales and I strain against my captor’s hold, unable to see the screen, but whatever it is, I know it must be bad. “I press one button on this phone, and it goes off.”

Fuck no.

My heart sinks when Roman’s hand cuts out toward his father, taking the knife right out of his grip, and effortlessly slicing the mens’ throats at his brother’s back before stepping into his father and holding the dripping blade to his throat. “Call it off,” he growls, his tone so low that it vibrates right through to my chest. Levi and Marcus begin getting to their feet as Roman continues. “If you hurt one fucking hair on his head, I swear, I will make you regret it.”

Giovanni stands eye to eye with his son, the blade at his throat all but forgotten as his lips pull into a wicked grin. “Stand down, Roman. Submit to me and the child is yours.”

A soft exhale pulls from Marcus as he steps in behind Roman, his hand pressing against his back. “Come on, brother. Let us live to fight another day. I’m not ready to lose this yet.”

Roman doesn’t budge, holding his father’s gaze as he silently shakes with rage. “Roman,” I whimper, swallowing hard. “Please. Give him what he wants, and your son is yours.”

Roman scoffs, breaking his father’s stare as he turns his broken gaze toward me. He steps back, watching me as though I have all the answers, but I’ve got nothing but pain and fears. There’s not a damn thing I can offer to make this okay, and looking deep into his eyes now, it’s clear he thinks this is a trap, but it’s a risk that he has no choice but to make.

His son’s life hangs in the balance and there’s not a damn thing he wouldn’t do to save him.

Three soldiers step in behind the brothers, dropping them to their knees before binding their wrists with tape, taking the knife out of Roman’s hands, and tossing it back toward Giovanni. I clench my jaw watching my men fall from the highest pedestal, and without warning, my knees are kicked from behind and I fall into the bloodied grass.

Giovanni laughs and steps toward his sons before turning the phone in his hand. He looks down at the baby adoringly before something sinister twists across his face. He does something on his phone and then glances up to meet Roman’s stare just as a booming explosion sounds in the distance, the blast lighting up the sky for only a moment.

My breath catches in my throat before an agonizing scream tears out of me, blinded by rage. Tears blur my vision, and I don’t see anything, only hear the sound of Giovanni’s howling laugh. I blink the tears away to find Roman breathing heavily, soldiers desperately holding the three brothers back until Giovanni throws the phone down in front of them. “Relax,” Giovanni scoffs. “You make it so easy. Your brother is fine.”

Roman just stares at the image of the baby, his chest rising and falling with violent gasps as Levi pulls against the soldier’s hold. “Brother?” he spits. “You mean his son. Your grandson.”

Giovanni slowly paces before them. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” he sings, the words so low I barely hear them. A chill sails over my body and I shake my head, my heart racing a million miles an hour.

“Did I say brother?” he questions, stopping in front of Roman and meeting him dead in the eye. He leans down, smirking right at him. “That’s exactly what I mean. That child you’ve fought so hard for, he’s mine. Your little girlfriend was nothing but a cheap, used up whore.”

No. No, this can’t be right.

My chest sinks, my heart stopping in its tracks as I look to Roman to see nothing but devastation torn across his stunning face, his heart breaking right before my very eyes. I pull against the soldier’s hold on my body, trying to push him off me. I’d give anything to run into his warm arms and tell him that everything is going to be okay, but how the hell is he ever going to go on from this, from believing all this time that he’s had a son, only for him to be ripped out from under him.

Giovanni laughs to himself, pulling back as Roman pulls against his binds. “That’s right, son. She was a tight little bitch with a nasty bite. Ariana couldn’t give me what I wanted. She was a washed-up whore, so I took what I needed from Felicity. She was able to carry a son, one that I will raise in my image, one that will be everything you three could never be.”

Fucking hell.

Pride surges across Giovanni’s face as he watches his son fall to pieces at his feet.

There’s no doubt that he could be lying, that he could be making this up just to fuck with Roman’s head, but the pride in his tone, the joy at finally getting to tell his son what he’s done is just too real. The baby really is Giovanni’s son.

“Weak,” Giovanni spits, looking over the three of them before turning to me. “This is what you’ve done to them. They were strong, fearless. They would have been gods among mere men, but you made them weak.”

I shake my head, knowing just how wrong he is. “No,” I tell him. “They’re not weak. They’re the strongest men I know, and you’re just scared because you’ve realized that they’re so much more than you will ever be, and without you, they will rise up to create an empire you could only ever dream of. You’re the only weak bastard I see, and it’s about time someone put a fucking bullet right through your head.”

“My, oh my, Miss Moretti. You’ve got a nasty little mouth on you,” he says. “If my sons were half as strong as you thought they were, they would have knocked that shit right out of you, brought you in line to be a good little whore, but you’re wild and reckless, which is exactly why I need you.”

Giovanni meets the eyes of his soldier. “Pull her to her feet.”

He does exactly as he’s been asked, yanking me up by the throat until my feet are firmly planted beneath me. Giovanni strides across the blood-soaked lawn, looking over me with interest. “You know, I think there’s going to be a change of plans,” he announces, his voice dropping low as his tongue rolls over his bottom lip. “I had hoped to marry you off to Roman to gain access to the Moretti fortune, but now that Ariana is nowhere to be seen, I think I might take you for myself.”

Horror tears at me as I suck in a gasp, my eyes flicking straight to the boys to see the same disgust reflected in their eyes. Marcus shakes his head, the idea of losing me to his father tearing at his soul, while Levi clenches his jaw, looking as though he’s about ready to break free of his binds and tear his father’s heart out of his body with his bare hand. But Roman, he simply looks broken. His father took Ariana from him as a young man, and while that was no great loss in the end, it has still scarred him, and he always believed that Giovanni killed Felicity, the woman he wanted to marry. Learning that she was alive and pregnant this whole time, only now to realize that child wasn’t his … fuck.

And now they could be losing me too.

No fucking way. I’ll never let it happen.

I spit at Giovanni, hating myself for the atrocious act, but feeling it’s necessary seeing as though my hands are pulled behind my back, making it impossible to gouge his eyes right out of his face. “Over my dead fucking body,” I growl, watching as he retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his face. “I would rather swim in a pool of acid and feel my eyeballs explode inside my body than become your wife.”

“Careful now,” he mutters darkly. “You’re tempting me, but don’t worry. I’ll be sure to use you for everything you’re worth before letting you drown in acid.”

Bile rises in my throat as my chest heaves with heavy breaths. “I wonder what my mother would say if she heard this,” I tell him, trying to be brave though I know he sees right through me. “In fact, her men only stormed through here this afternoon. I wouldn’t put it past her to keep eyes and ears in this place.”

His eyes flash with a hint of nervousness, and as his nostrils flare, he quickly pulls himself together before leaning into me. “I hope she’s watching and listening to every little thing,” he murmurs. “Because then she’ll get to see exactly what I do to her precious daughter and hear her blood-curdling screams as I take her life from this world. Now, be a good little wifey and play a game with me.”

Giovanni turns his back and strides toward his sons, his shoulders softly bouncing as though he’s laughing. He reaches Roman, the furthest from me before turning to meet my stare, my stomach sinking with dread.

I slowly shake my head, knowing exactly what game he intends to play. “Tell me, wife. Which of my sons will die today?”

I don’t say a word, remembering exactly what happened last time. He didn’t have the balls to kill his sons, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t end that night with a brutal murder.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,” he sings almost like a chant, and then in a flash of lightning, he grips Roman’s shoulder as his hand whips toward him, the long, delicate blade sparkling in the dim moonlight.

It pierces right through his stomach and a wailing scream tears out of me. The soldier holds me down as Roman’s eyes widen in agony. His head whips toward me, his broken stare boring into mine as Marcus and Levi are held back by the guards.

Giovanni grins as the long blade is yanked back, sending a spray of blood across the lawn. He steps back from Roman, and the guard releases him, letting his heavy body fall to the ground and slowly bleed out.

Giovanni laughs as the screams continue to pull from deep within me, my throat burning from the piercing sound, but Giovanni is just as ruthless as his sons have always warned. He takes a step, his eyes sparkling with laughter, and without remorse, he looks me dead in the eye, grabs Marcus by the shoulder, and plunges the dripping blade deep into his stomach.

My body goes numb as Marcus lets out a pained cry, and my screaming turns into a horrendous wail. He grunts and the sound kills what little is left of my heart. “No,” I whimper as Marcus’ face turns a ghostly shade of white.

Levi pulls hard, fighting with everything he’s got knowing what’s coming next, and I cry out for all three of them.

The knife is pulled free from Marcus’ stomach, creating the same sickening splash against the grass and just like Roman, he’s pushed down into the hard ground to bleed out, his sad eyes pinned to mine, begging me to run.

I pull against the man at my back, my efforts weak and useless as I watch with a heavy heart. Levi’s eyes are on mine, giving the soldiers hell as he tries with every last ounce of energy he has to try and free himself and get to me, but we’re out of time. “Don’t look,” he begs me, trying to save me from my own demons. “Don’t look.”

A heaving sob tears from my chest as Giovanni steps up to his last son and I shake my head. “No, don’t,” I cry, the sound broken over the building lump in my throat. “Don’t do it. You’ve proved your point. Let him go.”

“And only do two thirds of a job?” he howls with laughter. “I hardly think so.”

And just like that, the knife sinks deep into Levi’s gut as the final part of my world is shattered.

Levi cries out, his head falling forward as the soldier releases him, letting his body fall into Giovanni, sinking the knife deep into his stomach. He groans, the sound sending a wave of agony soaring over me as I watch my worst nightmare come true.

Giovanni pushes back against his son’s shoulder and yanks the long, thin blade out of him before dropping it into the grass and wiping his hand on his black suit. He releases Levi and I watch as he crumbles into the grass with his dying brothers, all three of their dark, obsidian eyes locked on mine, Roman looking as though he almost welcomes death.

Tears fall from my eyes, my whole world crumbling around me with absolutely no hope. Giovanni strides toward me, and I don’t even bother to look up. “Come now, Miss Moretti,” he tells me, stepping into me and curling his blood-stained hand around my arms. “Let’s make this official. You will become my bride.”

Giovanni pulls at my arm, and as the soldier releases me, I take my shot. I rip my arm out of his tight grip and race toward the boys, dropping down to my knees and grabbing at their hands, desperate to pull them up. “Come on,” I cry, tugging at Marcus’ hand, flicking my gaze back to Giovanni to see him coming closer. “Now. Come on. We have to go. Get up. You’re not dying here. Not today.”

Marcus squeezes my hand as Levi’s fingers brush over my blood-soaked knee. “Run,” he grunts, the words getting caught in his throat. “Run. Now.”

I shake my head, not wanting to leave them here. “No,” I rush out, Giovanni bearing down on me. “Not without you.”

I tug on their arms, reaching for Roman but he pulls back. “LEAVE US AND FUCKING RUN.”

Giovanni grips my arm, and as he yanks me up, desperation catches hold of me and my hand scoops through the grass, my fingers curling around the gold handle of the long, thin knife he used to stab all three of his sons.

I slam it up and the blade pierces through his shoulder. He cries out in agony, his grip loosening on my arm, giving me just a moment to break free. I take off at a sprint, tears staining my eyes as I run out toward the thick woods surrounding the property, soldiers racing after me.

Bullets whiz past my face and I scream out, slamming one foot down after another as bright beams of light flash toward me. I risk glancing back over my shoulder to find five black SUVs racing down the long drive with a man on a motorbike, three of the SUVs heading for me, while the other two storm toward Giovanni and his soldiers.

Gunshots ring out and my hands fly up over my head, not sure where the fuck they’re coming from or who they’re even aiming at.

The SUVs cut in behind me, circling me and forcing me to change direction as the move separates me from the soldiers. The black SUV speeds up, driving right alongside me, and I glance across to the driver as the window rolls down, the man on the motorbike pulling up right beside me.

Gia Moretti stares back at me through the driver’s window, an automatic gun held tightly in her hand. She nods to the man on the motorbike, the wind whipping her hair all around her face. “Get on,” she calls through the night, her voice barely a whisper as it gets lost in the breeze.

My head whips across to the man on the motorbike, and as he flips his visor up, I recognize the dark, mysterious man who’d kidnapped me only a few short hours ago. Before I even get a chance to ask what the fuck is going on, his arm snaps out, curling around my waist and hauling me up onto his lap.

He takes off like a rocket, shooting out in front of the SUVs, his long, dark dreadlocks flying in the wind behind him. I hold on for dear life, my body plastered to his as I stare back over his shoulder, watching Giovanni in the distance, his soldiers helping him to his feet as the two remaining SUVs back off.

He stares after us, his hand gripping his shoulder as he watches me leave, and as the motorbike hits the front gates and tears out onto the main road, I watch as he slowly turns toward his dying sons.

Three booming gunshots sound through the night and are the last thing I hear as I leave the DeAngelis family mansion for good, tears streaming down my face.

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Heathens (Depraved Sinners #2) Read Online Sheridan Anne http://www.wownovels.com/heathens-depraved-sinners-2-read-online-sheridan-anne Thu, 16 Dec 2021 06:42:22 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/heathens-depraved-sinners-2-read-online-sheridan-anne Genre: Dark, Mafia, Romance Authors: Sheridan Anne Series: Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 120472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Heathens (Depraved Sinners #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Sheridan Anne
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B09J44TJGP
Book Information:
Twinkle, twinkle little star Heathens coming, brand new scar. Slaughter turns to pained goodbye. Never knowing if I’ll die. A DeAngelis family war is brewing and these heathens are the vicious ringleaders, pulling the strings of their pawns for the greatest show of all—a show that will guarantee sweet, sweet victory. Only victory comes with a price. The question is, what are they willing to lose to get the one thing they’ve always wanted? They kidnapped me. Haunted me. Allowed me to believe that I could trust them, and I foolishly did. I’m in deeper than I could have known, and now there’s no going back. When blood spilled, I ran at the first chance I got. That was my biggest mistake. Do. Not. Run. It’s been drilled into my head since the moment they took me. A searing bullet through the chest is enough to seal my fate, and no matter how much I scream, they refuse to believe my innocence. They’re out for blood and they won’t stop until they’ve watched the life fade from my eyes. These heathens are nothing but the callous, cruel monsters the world has always known them to be and they hold every last card between their devious fingers. Their own flesh and blood fear them. They’ve locked them away for the greater good, but they won’t be kept down, not anymore. This war just took a turn for the worst and navigating my way to freedom might just cost me my life. Depraved Sinners is a New Adult, Dark, Reverse Harem, Contemporary Romance series. It contains explicit sexual content, graphic violence, drug abuse, and coarse language. It is recommended for mature readers. Depraved Sinners is planned as a four book series.
Books in Series:	Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
Books by Author:	Sheridan Anne

1

The smell of gasoline lingers in the air, wafting from the wreckage beside me as I stare up into the barrel of Roman’s gun. His eyes darken just as a gunshot rings through the night. My body flinches as a raw, terror-filled scream tears from deep in my chest, certain I’m dead. But as Roman topples toward me and barely catches himself against the wrecked car, my eyes widen in horror.

A gasp lingers on my lips as I take a mental note of my body. There’s no searing pain, no blood, no life slipping from between my fingers. That bullet was supposed to be mine, yet somehow, I’m still breathing.

The headlights from the wrecked car spread a soft glow through the property as Roman’s pained curse fills the air. He clutches his side as disbelief filters through his obsidian eyes. I watch him in horror, and as he moves his hand away from his waist, there’s just enough light for me to see the bright red blood seeping through the front of his shirt, staining his fingers.

“No,” I breathe as he hovers over me, the gun still in his hand as his hard gaze drops, taking in the stain quickly spreading from his waist.

Rage pulses through his stare and it doesn’t take a genius to know that this isn’t somewhere I want to be. All hell is about to break loose, and I’m stuck on the ground with a shard of glass protruding from my stomach. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

I swallow hard as his eyes shoot back up to mine. “Don’t fucking move.”

Roman spins, immediately clocking the gunman across the expansive property. The man is not alone. Two others stand on either side of him, all three of their guns raised high. It’s hard to see from here, but there’s something eerily familiar about these men.

“Who are they?” I gasp, a soft whimper tearing from my throat the moment the words pass my lips. My hand clutches the shard of glass as my heels dig into the cool grass, desperately trying to propel myself away from Roman and what’s bound to be a fatal shootout.

No one shoots at one of the DeAngelis brothers and expects to get away with their life. If you’re stupid enough to take a shot, then you better make it count. Unfortunately for these fuckers, they just sealed their fate, but I can’t find it within myself to hate them because their recklessness just bought me precious seconds. Without them, I’d already be dead.

Barely a moment has passed when the three strange men begin spreading out, knowing that one missed shot at Roman puts their lives in immediate danger. There’s no doubt about it, they will die tonight, the only question is, will I die along with them?

Roman clocks their every step, somehow managing to keep a skilled eye on all three of them as they move in different directions.

Anger washes over his face and he clenches his jaw, clearly not in the mood to be dealing with this shit while he has his heart set on killing me for the crime he believes I’ve committed against Marcus. He’s unforgiving, brutal, and lethal. A man like Roman doesn’t hang around to ask questions. He acts first, thinks later, and this may be my only shot at keeping myself alive.

Roman groans and crouches down, hiding behind the wrecked car as he looks back at me, irritation strong in his fiery eyes. His jaw is clenched and his breathing labored. It’s clear that the bullet wound through his waist is causing him pain, but it’s not enough to slow him down. He’s a machine, a soldier, just as his father raised him to be.

He reaches for me, and I flinch as he wraps his strong hand around the glass protruding from my stomach. My eyes widen, realizing what he’s about to do. “No, no, no, no, no,” I rush out, the fear overwhelming my already aching body.

Too fucking late.

He grips the glass and yanks it out of my waist as a searing pain tears through my stomach. “FUCK,” I cry, tears brimming in my eyes. The glass is tossed aside, shattering on the wide driveway, but Roman doesn’t give me a moment to recover. He grabs my arm and gives a hard tug, pulling me closer to the wrecked car and keeping me hidden from the three men who want him dead.

“Don’t fucking move,” he demands again, the smell of gasoline getting stronger in the air.

I search his deadly eyes, still trying to pull myself away from the man who wants to end my life. “What does it matter?” I spit, tugging my arm free and holding onto the groan as each little movement reminds me that I was just in a car wreck. “You want me dead anyway. I might as well take my chances with these guys.”

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Psychos (Depraved Sinners #1) Read Online Sheridan Anne http://www.wownovels.com/psychos-depraved-sinners-1-read-online-sheridan-anne Thu, 21 Oct 2021 00:11:57 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/psychos-depraved-sinners-1-read-online-sheridan-anne Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Authors: Sheridan Anne Series: Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	(Depraved Sinners #1) Psychos
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Sheridan Anne
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B099QHCBPC
Book Information:
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch three psychos by the toe. If I squeal, they won’t let me go. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Roman. Levi. Marcus. Psychos—that's what they are. The DeAngelis Brothers. Men tremble at the sound of their names while women run, their lives flashing before their eyes. They’re the monsters under your bed, the boogeymen in your closet. Every living soul fears them. They’re relentless and they’re coming to play. They’re the sons of the most notorious mafia boss, the leader of the DeAngelis Family, and they’ve just set their twisted sights on me. They stalked me through my apartment, haunted my hallways, and crippled me with fear. They led me straight into their trap and captured me as though they had every right. Little did I know, these three psychos already owned me. I was gifted to them like a caged animal and that’s exactly how they intend to have me. I’m their prisoner. Their play toy. Their most exciting game. And unfortunately for me, death is my only way out.
Books in Series:	Depraved Sinners Series by Sheridan Anne
Books by Author:	Sheridan Anne

1

Fuck homelessness and fuck turd-tastic landlords. They can shove a stick of dynamite up their bitch asses and play with a box of fireworks while hoping to God they don’t blow themselves up. We shall call it dynamite roulette and it will be the game of the century.

Letting out a sigh, I stumble to the fridge and I glare at the stupid piece of paper pinned beneath a magnet. ‘Notice to Vacate’ is printed in bold red lettering across the top and I can’t help but feel as though it was printed this way just to mock me. “Fuck you too,” I sneer, ripping the freezer door open and scowling at the contents.

My fridge is supposed to be my happy place, but the barren wire shelves are just a reminder of how awful the last six months have been. A single tub of half-eaten ice cream stares back at me, and with the week I’ve had, I’m shocked there’s any left at all.

It’s been one of those extra shitty days, and having my landlord shove the eviction notice under my door was the cherry on top of my shit sundae. I am royally fucked, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do once these thirty days are up.

In all seriousness, I should probably lay off my landlord. It’s not his fault that my rent hasn’t been paid. I knew the eviction was coming, and to be honest, my landlord gave me longer than expected. Though he doesn’t exactly deserve an award for his patience. The man’s been trying to get between my legs since the day I moved in here. He doesn’t give a shit about me being homeless, the asshole is just trying to see how far my desperation will get him. He should know by now that no amount of money, not even a roof over my head, is going to have me bending over for him.

My fingers curl around the tub of Oreo ice cream and I let out a heavy sigh before closing the freezer door with a little too much enthusiasm. It’s just after four in the morning and I’m freaking exhausted. I’ve spent an entire shift at the club dodging assholes and straining to hear customer’s orders over thumping music.

My head aches. The club has recently hired a new DJ who’s a little more techno than he has the right to be, and every shift that I share with him has been nothing short of a nightmare. Not to mention, having to deal with my asshole boss who thinks it’s acceptable to treat his female employees like a piece of meat is always such a special treat. I need to get out of there, but for now, it’s my only income, and I can’t quit until I’ve got something else lined up. Though, no high school GED and no other qualifications means that it’s either bartending, stripping, or selling myself to pricks on the street. I don’t have great options.

Digging around in the kitchen sink, I search for the cleanest spoon I can find before dragging my feet down the short hallway to my bedroom. Kicking my shoes off at the door, I push my black ripped jeans over my hips and thighs until I’m awkwardly stepping out of them. My dirty black tank sails over my head in one quick motion, and I toss it into my ever-growing laundry pile near the closet. Setting my ice cream on my bedside table, I find a face wipe and begin scrubbing off the fake version of myself, more than ready to call it quits on this day from hell.

My mattress sags beneath my weight as I plop down and cross my legs, tucking my mismatched bra and panties beneath the blankets. Pushing the power button on the TV remote, an old rerun of Game of Thrones appears on the small screen. With a sigh, I peel the lid from my ice cream and dig the spoon deep into the yummy goodness.

There’s nothing quite like unwinding with a tub of ice cream after a shitty night … hell, a shitty six months.

The Oreo ice cream melts against my tongue as I twist the spoon in my mouth. I swallow hard watching Daenerys take control of her big-ass beast of a man, and damn, the scene has me reaching toward my bedside drawer. I take my hat off to her. She’s a fucking boss ass bitch living the freaking dream. Who wouldn’t want to fuck Khal Drogo? Just the thought has goosebumps spreading over my skin.

Shoving the ice cream back onto my bedside table, my hand falls right to the bottom drawer. I dump its contents on the floor beside my bed and start digging through the endless options. Majority of these little guys don’t even work anymore. Their batteries are either fucked or I’ve lost their chargers, but there’s one special guy who will weather all storms and always come through for me. I call him Tarzan, but not the animated version, the Alexander Skarsgård version. We’ve had some really amazing times together while watching that beast of a man swinging through the jungle.

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