Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
The Skull spoke again. “Write it out, Gwen. All of it. The rage. The betrayal. That you came so hard for all three of us last night and this morning that you saw stars. Rant about how we broke every rule your editor paid us to follow. Write it. We’ll wait.”
I didn’t move, but I stared at the open laptop. They made it sound so fucking easy, like this would solve my problems. It was preposterous, yet I was walking over to it, sitting on the couch, and looking at the blank document waiting for me. The cursor blinked as if it were daring me.
I slammed the lid shut. “No.”
The Stag moved this time, crossing the room in three silent strides. He didn’t touch me, just crouched, so we were eye level. Pale blue eyes, no mask, nothing between us now except the truth.
“You think we’re the villains here,” he hissed. “Maybe we are. You wrote men who take what they want and never apologize. We just… answered the fucking call.”
My breath hitched.
He stood. “We’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready to stop pretending you want us gone.”
They left me there. I lasted ten minutes before I opened the laptop and started typing so fast my fingers ached.
12
Iwrote until all I could focus on was the blur of words I furiously added to the story.
I wrote about fear. Rage. And finally, the moment I realized Kai had weaponized my own fantasies against me, whether she realized it or not.
I wrote about the first time one of them had kissed me like he was claiming territory. Then when the second growled against my throat right before he bit down. Or when the third man looked at me when he slid deep inside and whispered I was his like he prayed to a god for.
I wrote until the document was pure, filthy, and unadulterated truth. My truth.
And then I walked into the kitchen carrying the laptop like a loaded gun. They were all in there. Waiting patiently. I set the laptop on the dining table and turned it toward them.
“Read it,” I said. My voice didn’t shake anymore, not since I poured my heart and soul into my book, purging myself of it.
The Black Mask pulled it toward him first. The other two leaned in, shoulders brushing. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the occasional scrape of a chair.
I kept busy—cleaning, stoking the fire, and even showering. When I finally stepped back into the kitchen, The Skull looked up first. Something raw and unguarded flickered in his eyes.
“Jesus, Gwen.”
The Stag’s jaw flexed. “You named us.”
In my book, they were Roman, Tag, and Pope. I’d used their authentic speech patterns, their real scars, and ink that covered their enormous frames. I put them on paper—so to speak.
I lifted my chin. “You wanted the truth. There it is.”
The Black Mask shut the laptop with a soft click. “We’re not actors, Gwen. Kai hired us through our private security firm for ‘immersive psychological intervention.’ Her exact words. Ironclad NDA. Explicit no-sex clause.” His eyes locked on mine, unflinching. “We lasted less than an hour before we torched it.”
The Skull snorted. “Try twenty minutes.”
The Stag leaned in, elbows on his knees. “We’ve faked kidnappings for jaded billionaires. Stalked starlets who paid us to make their pulses race. Never once broke protocol.” His gaze dragged over my mouth like a promise. “Then you looked at us like you were begging to be wrecked. So we wrecked you.”
I swallowed hard. “And now?”
The Black Mask let the silence stretch until it felt like a hand around my throat. “Now we stay until you look us in the eye and tell us—truly tell us—to leave.”
My heart punched my ribs. “And if I say it? If I mean it?”
The Skull’s grin was slow, filthy. “You won’t.”
The Stag’s voice dropped to a growl. “Because we all know what you really want.”
“So, fuck it,” The Black Mask said, almost gentle.
“Let’s burn this whole thing down together,” The Stag added.
I drew a breath that tasted like smoke and sin.
You know what?
Fuck it.
I stepped toward them, the robe slipping from my shoulders to pool at my feet, and walked straight into the fire they’d been stoking all night. Their roles were now nothing but ash.
Whatever came next, we’d face it the same way we’d faced everything else since they broke into the cabin and answered my unspoken fantasy.
Together and unrepentant.
13
The next three days blurred into a fever dream that felt less like time and more like a single, endless exhale.
My three masked men claimed me on every surface sturdy enough to survive us. The cheap plastic covering on the kitchen table still bore the faint crescent dents from my fingernails. The couch cushions never quite went back to their original shape after Calder folded me over the arm and fucked me until my knees buckled.