SWEET SALVATION

Ruthless Games #3

CALLIE ROSE

Copyright © 2020 by Callie Rose

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Books by Callie Rose

CHAPTER 1

WATER SLUICES down from the shower head, washing away the sheen of sweat that covers my body. Droplets cling to the red roses on my right arm, trailing down to drip from the end of my amputated limb.

Fighting one-handed is hard as fuck, but I’m getting better at it.

Muscles I never knew existed before are sore from my training sessions with Ryland, and even though we’ve only been doing it for a few days, I can already feel my body strengthening and adapting.

Good. We’ll all need to adapt fast in this changing landscape.

I roll my neck as I step directly under the spray, letting the heat seep into my body. We just finished a two-hour sparring session where Ryland helped me make adjustments to the fighting techniques he’s teaching me to compensate for my missing limb.

He was nominated to be the one to teach me all of this stuff since, out of the three men, he’s the one who has formal martial arts training. Theo and Marcus are good fighters because they have to be—they’ve all learned to defend themselves with any weapon at their disposal—but Ryland has actual training in Jiu Jitsu and a couple other forms.

And now that we suspect Luca and the Viper are the same person, all three men want me to know how to defend myself.

It’s hard to believe it’s only been five days since our visit to Luca’s house. Five days since that quick glimpse at the tattoo on his wrist sent me reeling, my mind putting together the pieces of an elaborate puzzle and finally seeing the complete picture.

Luca has been playing everyone. His “game” was an elaborate setup, a distraction designed to pit the most powerful families in Halston against each other and allow Luca to fortify his control of the city.

We still don’t have proof.

All we have is the certainty that we’re right, a gut feeling that this entire situation is utterly fucked.

That’s enough for me, and it’s enough for the men.

But if we’re going to convince the other players that Luca is the real enemy, we’ll need a hell of a lot more than just our word. We need fucking evidence.

Unfortunately, that’s proving harder to find than I’d hoped. Luca has done a good job of distancing himself from the Viper, keeping the connection between those two names basically non-existent.

We’ll find something though.

We have to.

Letting out a breath, I grab the shampoo bottle from the small shelf set into the shower wall and pour some onto my dark hair. Then I set the bottle down and begin to work the shampoo into a lather. Sudsy water pours down my face and neck, and when I hear the quiet click of the door opening, I don’t open my eyes.

I know who it is.

There’s the soft shuffle of clothes being discarded, and a second later, the shower door opens. Even through the spray of the water and the sweet smell of the shampoo, I can pick up the soft bite of leather and the clean scent that I recognize instantly as Marcus.

He steps up behind me, the broad expanse of his chest brushing against my back as he takes over massaging the shampoo into my hair. He’s already half-hard, his cock pressing into my lower back, and his touch is both tender and rough as he rubs his fingertips against my scalp.

I make a soft noise in my throat, leaning back against him with my eyes still closed. “You could do that lower if you want.”

He grunts, but once he finishes with my hair, he moves his hands down to my shoulders, leaving the suds in my dark locks. His strong hands knead away the tightness in my muscles, sending a pleasurable shiver down my spine.

I’m not surprised he decided to join me in the shower.

He’s been insatiable lately, unable to keep his hands off me. It’s not just him either. I’m the same way, and I can feel the same desperation in Theo and Ryland too. The fact that Ryland’s and my training sessions don’t devolve into sex every time is a testament to how serious he is about teaching me self-defense.

We’re all scared of losing each other. We almost lost Marcus already, and we barely survived that.

Whenever I’m around any of these men, it’s almost impossible to restrain the urge to wrap myself around them. To crawl into their laps and hold them as close as two people can get. To lose myself in their embrace and pretend that the electric connection that surges between us might be enough to keep the rest of the world out.

It isn’t enough. I know that. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to try.

“How was your training session?”

Marcus’s deep voice cuts through my thoughts, the sound rumbling against my back.

“It was good.” I drop my head a little, letting water pour over me as the tension in my shoulders unwinds. “He said after seeing me beat the shit out of Natalie, he knows I’ve got what it takes to be a fighter. He’s just helping me shape that into better technique.”

Marcus huffs a breath that’s almost a laugh. “From what he and Theo have told me, you looked like an avenging goddess. I wish I could’ve been there to see it.”

I turn around in his arms, tilting my head back to rinse out the last of the shampoo before I blink my eyes open to look up at him. Earth and air gaze back at me, the rich brown of his left iris contrasting with the split brown and blue of his right one. His eyes are mesmerizing, and not just because of their unique color. It’s what’s behind them that pulls me in every time, drawing me the way the moon draws the tide.

I will never know enough about Marcus Constantine. Even if I spend my whole life by his side, my curiosity about him will never wane.

I want everything.

Every piece of who he is.

I won’t settle for anything less.

“If you’d been there, I probably wouldn’t have hit Natalie,” I tell him honestly, my arm wrapping around him. I can feel the scars of his bullet wounds on his back, and I trail my fingers lightly over them. “Every time my fist flew toward her face, I thought of you. I thought of where you might be, of the pain you might be in, of where your corpse might be if you were already dead. It hurt. My whole body felt filled to the brim with it, and I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. I wanted to kill her for what she did to you.” My jaw clenches, tears burning the backs of my eyes at the memory of my pain and rage. “So I guess she’s lucky I just smashed her face in instead.”

Something glints in Marcus’s eyes, something feral and dangerous and possessive. It’s the kind of thing that used to scare me, back when he first reappeared in my life, invading my space, my thoughts, and my dreams.

Obsession.

Pure, raw obsession.

It used to overwhelm me. It used to terrify me, knowing that I was the single focus of Marcus’s attention. That even before we’d said two words to each other, he knew more about me than most of the “friends” I’ve had over the years.

Now, seeing that look in his eyes doesn’t make my stomach flip-flop with nerves. Instead, it sends a bolt of heat shooting through me, making liquid arousal pool in my belly.

“Fuck, angel.” His large hands come up to frame my face, slicking my wet hair back as he looks down at me. “When you say shit like that…”

He doesn’t bother to finish that sentence, showing me what he means by moving even closer to me. His cock presses against my stomach, fully hard now and hot against my skin. My pussy clenches in response, arousal spreading through my limbs as I wrap my arm around his neck, closing the last small fraction of space between us.

I’m not a violent person by nature, but I would kill for this man.

The truth of that realization takes me by surprise, and I blink up at him, my gaze tracking over the strong curve of his jawline and the perfect bow of his full lips. His brown hair has gotten wet, making it look shiny and darker than usual.

At the moment, he looks like the thing he always calls me—an angel.

A dark angel, beautiful and deadly.

Rising up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. Marcus groans into my mouth, sliding his hands down my wet, slippery body to wrap around my waist as he hauls me against him. Our kiss is deep and sloppy, hungry and desperate, fueled by everything that’s led up to this moment.

I could drown in this man, I think. I could fall into the depths of his soul and never resurface. Never want to.

As if he’s trying to drown himself in me too, Marcus’s lips move harder against mine, his tongue sliding against my own in a dance that makes my clit throb. When our kiss finally breaks, his ravenous lips move over the curve of my cheek and along my jaw, collecting the water droplets that trail down my skin.

I arch backward, trusting him to hold me up as I give him access to more of me. He takes everything I’m offering, scraping his teeth along the column of my neck before biting down on the flesh of my shoulder. The sudden bite of pain makes my nipples harden, my stomach clenching as I grind against him.

He growls against my skin, lapping away water as his lips and teeth and tongue explore every inch of me they can reach. When he trails downward to my breasts, I lean back even more, and he splays one large hand between my shoulder blades to support me as his mouth closes over one nipple.

“Fuck, angel,” he mutters, his voice muffled by my skin and the water cascading around us. “I can never get enough of you. I keep fucking trying, but it’s never enough.”

There’s a hint of frustration in his voice, and I know his words are more than just talk. I feel the same frustration he does, the same urge to somehow defy the constraints of our physical bodies and meld ourselves into one.

I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about Marcus, Theo, and Ryland.

I didn’t know this kind of craving was even possible.

And I’m beyond caring if it’s healthy or wise. I don’t give a shit if it’s insane. I fought this thing long enough, and now I’m done fighting.

We’ve got bigger battles on the horizon anyway.

Marcus moves his attention to my other nipple, rolling it between his teeth before biting down hard enough to sting, and my muscles tighten as a bolt of pleasure shoots straight down to my clit.

“Fuck!”

As a loud cry falls from my lips, he releases my nipple and laps the pain away, making my yell morph into a needy groan.

Adjusting his grip on me, Marcus trails his lips lower. I straighten fully as he drops to his knees in front of me, his hands coming to rest on my hips. When his fingers delve between my legs, running through my folds before spreading my pussy lips wide, I bite down hard on my lower lip. My knees wobble a little, and I reach out to flatten my palm against the shower wall, steadying myself.

It’s times like these when I really wish I still had two fucking hands. I need to hold on to the wall for balance, but I want so badly to run my fingers through Marcus’s wet hair too, to grab a fistful of the dark strands and drag his face closer to my pussy.

Because it’s still several inches away. He hasn’t touched me with his tongue yet. Instead, he’s just staring at me, absorbing every detail of the most intimate part of my body like there’s going to be a test later. Like he wants to remember it for the rest of his damn life.

The way he’s got me spread open leaves nothing to the imagination, and his touch is full of a familiar ownership that makes my heart beat harder.

As if my pussy is his to touch any way he likes.

As if all of me belongs to him.

“Marcus…”

My voice is low and hoarse. Water is dripping down the side of my face as I stare down at him, and I can feel the slickness of my arousal coating my pussy, a different kind of wetness entirely.

For a second, his brown and blue irises flash up toward me, fierce satisfaction burning in their depths.

He likes that I’m desperate.

He fucking loves it.

But at least he doesn’t make me wait long.

The second his gaze drops down again, his head moves forward. Still keeping me spread wide for him like a fucking buffet, he runs his tongue all the way up my pussy before circling my clit in a slow, deliberate motion. My toes curl against the slick shower floor, my fingers clenching as I fight to keep my grip on the wall.

Pleasure ripples out in heavy waves as Marcus continues to work over my clit, and when I start shifting restlessly, pressing against his mouth, he grabs my hips again, forcing me to stay still.

The fingers of one hand dig into the flesh of my hip while the other slides around behind me. When I feel him delve between my ass cheeks, I let out a startled sound.

It doesn’t stop him though. It doesn’t even slow him down. With the same possessive touch as always, he slides one finger inside the tight ring of my asshole. Heat flashes through me, a fresh wave of sensation joining the pleasure emanating from my clit.

“Marcus. Fuck!”

I repeat his name, unable to come up with anything more articulate as he slides his finger in deeper, fucking my ass with it at the same time he attacks my clit with his tongue. The steady sweep of his tongue combined with the foreign feeling of his finger in my ass makes my legs tremor.

My heart is beating harder, and all thought of sore muscles is gone. The only thing I’m aware of, the only thing that exists right now, is Marcus.

His touch.

His tongue.

His hot breath against my skin.

When he wraps his lips around my clit and flicks the sensitive bud over and over again, the pleasure coiling inside me snaps. My head drops down as my whole body shakes, and despite my hand on the wall, I’m in real danger of collapsing.

Of course, Marcus would never let that happen. The orgasm is still working its way through my body when he withdraws his finger and surges to his feet, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him as if I weigh next to nothing. My arm goes around his neck automatically, and I bury my face against his shoulder as I ride out the pleasure.

“I love making you come, angel,” he murmurs, his deep voice dripping into my ear like honey. “I love your sounds. I love your taste. I love you.”

He punctuates the last word by shifting his grip on me, lifting me up a little to line himself up before bringing me down hard on his cock. He fills me in one swift motion, bottoming out inside me and grinding my clit against him. My thighs squeeze his waist as he helps me rise up and sink back down again, finding a rhythm as I stroke his cock with my inner walls.

We’re still standing beneath the spray, and the part of me that can think anything at all marvels at the fact that he’s still holding me up as if it’s nothing. He hasn’t even braced me against the shower wall.

When his hand glides over the curve of my ass to slip between my cheeks again, I’m not surprised—but anticipation still makes my breath catch. He draws a small circle around the puckered hole, teasing me by slipping his finger inside just a little.

I try to grind back against him, clenching around his cock as I silently urge him to go deeper with his finger. He just chuckles, still teasing me as he fucks me slowly.

“You want more, angel?”

“Yes,” I gasp, lifting my head up from the curve of his shoulder to meet his gaze. “Please.”

His eyes burn with predatory heat, and I swear I can feel his cock thickening inside me. “How much more? Because if you let me have your ass, I’m going to take it. All of it.”

I know what he means. He means more than one finger, or even two.

My stomach clenches as a shot of adrenaline and arousal surges through me, and I nod, biting my lip. The air around us is thick with steam, and little water droplets cling to Marcus’s long eyelashes, making them look even thicker.

“Take it,” I murmur. “Take anything you want.”

His nostrils flare, and he moves so fast it almost makes me dizzy, lifting me off his cock and setting me on the floor. As soon as my feet touch the smooth tiles, he kisses me hard and deep. Then he pulls back and spins me around, bracing my hand on the wall again.

I resist the urge to clench my thighs together to ease the throbbing ache in my clit, letting Marcus spread my legs wider instead. My eyelids droop as I feel him grope and massage my flesh, and I glance over my shoulder to see his gaze trained on my ass.

This time, when his finger finds my tight hole, he doesn’t tease me. He slides it inside as deep as it will go, fucking me in smooth motions.

“Fucking beautiful,” he mutters, sliding his other hand down to massage my clit.

His two hands work in tandem, building up the pleasure inside me even as he adds a second finger in my ass. The pressure is a lot stronger as he stretches me out, and I bite my lip again, trying to relax.

I want this. And I know Marcus would never, ever hurt me—not in any way I can’t handle.

I can feel hunger and arousal radiating from him, burning through the connection between us, but he’s patient as fuck, working my clit and my ass simultaneously until I can feel my own arousal slipping down my thigh. My breath is coming faster, my whole body tingling with a current of pleasure.

When Marcus pulls his fingers out of me, the sudden sensation of emptiness is jarring. I miss the feeling of being full of him, consumed by him.

The fingers that were toying with my clit slip lower, sinking into my pussy and pulling a groan from my lips. When he withdraws them, more wetness seeps from me, and I know his fingers are coated in it. I look back over my shoulder once more to see him stroking his cock, spreading my arousal all over his shaft.

Then he fists himself at the base and lines himself up with my ass, grabbing one cheek in a bruising grip and spreading me wide.

He’s big.

So fucking big.

Even just the tip of him is so much more than his fingers, and I grunt as my ass stretches around him.

“Let me in, angel. Let me have you.”

His voice is raspy, and something in his tone makes heat sear through my veins. He’s trying to go slow, trying not to hurt me, but I can hear in his voice how close he is to losing that thin shred of control. The thought of him taking what he wants, what he needs, makes my own desire flare, and I push back against him, breathing deep to keep my body as relaxed as possible.

“Good girl,” he groans. “So fucking good.”

I don’t answer. I can’t answer. Neither of us speak for several moments as we work together to bring him deeper into my body, our heavy breaths punctuating his small thrusts.

When I feel his hips connect with my ass and realize that he’s buried inside me completely, I sag against the wall a little, my clit throbbing in time to my racing heartbeat.

“You’re so tight. Fuck. You’re killing me.”

Marcus grinds against my ass, one hand digging into my hips as the other trails up my spine. His fingers wrap around my throat, not tight enough to cut off my air, but enough that I’m sure he can feel my pulse fluttering wildly.

When he draws out and thrusts back in, it’s like learning all over again what it means to be overtaken. He does it again, and I arch back into his thrust, urging him on.

It’s not a hard fuck. It’s not fast. We’re both too close to the edge for that. We’re each trying to walk the tightrope of pleasure without falling off the other side. Trying to make this last as long as possible, even as our movements become jerkier and more desperate.

I need to come again. I’m so fucking close.

But I don’t want Marcus to ever stop fucking me.

“This won’t be the last time,” he grunts, as if he’s somehow read my thoughts. His grip on my hips tightens as he thrusts into me again. “This is mine now. Ours. Someday I’ll watch Ryland or Theo fuck your perfect ass while you ride my cock. Would you do that, angel? Would you let us have all of you?”

His words send a dozen filthy images flying through my mind, and my pussy clenches automatically as I imagine what it would feel like to be fucked by two of my men at once. To be held between them, completely at their mercy, filled by them.

Worshipped by them.

Maybe Marcus is imagining the same things I am, because his restraint suddenly gives out. His pace picks up, and he slams into my ass for three hard strokes before finishing on a harsh cry.

As his cock pulses inside me, I come too, pleasure making stars dance before my eyes. It’s different than any other orgasm I’ve ever had, deeper and more intense, and it seems to fill every atom of my body.

It takes several moments for the shudders of pleasure to subside, and when they finally do, Marcus pulls out carefully. Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me upright before turning me to face him. Then his fingers tangle in my wet hair as he kisses me deeply, as if he’s trying to cement the connection between us.

I can still taste the hint of my own arousal on his tongue, musky and sweet. The water falling from the shower head has cooled a little, although I didn’t even notice it until now.

It doesn’t matter though. Marcus’s skin is hot against mine, his embrace protective. In the circle of his arms, I feel so many things—but above all, I feel safe.

Our lips break apart, and he rests his forehead against mine as we breathe the same air, slowly coming back down to earth.

When he opens his eyes, they’re so close to mine that I can barely focus on them. He lets out a soft sigh and then kisses me once more before drawing back to look at me properly.

“I found something,” he says quietly.

CHAPTER 2

I BLINK, trying to process what Marcus just said. My brain is still mostly mush from the intense sex and the hard workout before that.

But as his words penetrate fully, I straighten, my eyebrows shooting upward. “You did? Something to tie Luca and the Viper together? Proof that they’re the same person?”

He grimaces, shaking his head. “No. We’re still working on that. There’s got to be something out there, no matter how fucking careful he’s been. The Viper has been too active in Halston not to leave some kind of trail, and one of those breadcrumbs has to lead back to Luca.”

I nod, hoping like hell that he’s right. That’s the assumption we’ve all been going on for the last several days, the hope we’ve been clinging to. There has to be something. People in Luca’s profession become damn good at keeping secrets, but no lie can be buried so deep that it can’t be unearthed.

But if whatever Marcus found doesn’t have to do with Luca, I’m not sure what he’s talking about.

“I haven’t forgotten my promise, angel,” Marcus murmurs, reaching behind me to turn off the water before tightening his arms around me again. “We’ll keep digging for something to prove Luca’s betrayal, but I put out some feelers about your brother too. I still want to help you find him.”

My heart skips a beat in my chest, thudding erratically against my ribs.

My brother.

The younger sibling I’m not even sure is real, the one I barely remember outside of the faded photograph of the two of us as kids. When Marcus found that picture in the little cigarette case I use as a wallet, I was desperate to get it back, to keep that part of myself away from him.

But I should’ve known that would be impossible. And once I told Marcus about my fruitless search to find my brother, he promised to help me do it. I remember the certainty in his voice when he said there must be some way to track down the answers I need—it bolstered my own flagging hope, giving me a fresh determination to wade through the red tape and bureaucratic bullshit of the Child Protective Services system.

“You found something? About my brother?”

The last word almost sticks in my throat. It’s still hard for me to say out loud, even to someone I trust as completely as Marcus. It’s like a raw patch in my soul, like someone ripped away a part of me a long time ago and the wound never healed over. I want to believe my brother is out there. That he’s safe and alive. But allowing myself to indulge in that hope sometimes feels like setting myself up for heartbreak.

“Yeah.” Marcus’s eyes gleam as he nods. Steam still swirls around us, partially obscuring the rest of the bathroom and making it feel like we’re the only two people in the world. “I got a name. Caleb Fairchild. It’s not a lot, but it’s something to start with. A thread to pull on.”

My stomach flutters.

Caleb.

I repeat the word out loud, tasting it on my tongue as Marcus watches me carefully. I say it several times, hoping each time that the sound of the name will spark some memory inside me, some connection.

“I… I think it sounds familiar,” I say slowly, hating how unsure I sound. I wanted an epiphany, and instead, all I got was a slow and creeping feeling of familiarity.

But I’ll take it.

Like Marcus said, it’s something. It’s a first step, and it’s much farther than I ever got in any of my searches.

“How did you figure out his name?” I catch Marcus’s gaze, shivering slightly. Now that the water is off, the steam is starting to dissipate, leaving the air cool. “I spent years trying to get anything on him—an old case file, letters of adoption, anything.”

Marcus glances at the goosebumps prickling down my arm. He steps back and opens the shower door, ushering me out. Stepping out behind me, he grabs a towel from the rack and wraps it around me. I lift my arms to let him secure it around my torso, loving the feeling of being utterly cared for by him.

“It was luck.” He shrugs. “And persistence. I’ve actually had a detective looking into it ever since the day we went to Victoria’s house. He did a comprehensive search for the surname Fairchild, and it led him to Caleb’s name. It wasn’t in a case file or a letter of adoption. He hasn’t found anything that concrete yet.”

My brows pull together. “Then where did the name show up?”

“It was actually in another kid’s file. A reference to a minor altercation between the two of them. Not much info beyond that, and no guarantee that it’s not another Fairchild entirely. But the timing lines up, and now that we have a first name, we can start tracking that down.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s nowhere near enough to capture the emotions crashing around in my chest, but it's the best I can come up with at the moment. “Really. Thank you.”

Marcus’s face softens. He hasn’t grabbed a towel for himself yet, and he seems completely unabashed by his nakedness as he stands in front of me. He cups one side of my face in his large palm, his thumb sliding over my jawline. “I would do so much more than that for you, angel. I’d do fucking anything. And I’ll keep pursuing this, I promise.”

I lean into his touch, letting my eyes fall shut for a second.

I’m not used to this. To being protected and cared for. It’s a foreign feeling, and the part of me that was alone for so many years and expected to spend my whole life that way still sometimes has a hard time believing it.

But Marcus and his two best friends have left no room for doubt.

Over and over and over, I’ve seen undeniable evidence of how much they care about me—the lengths they’re willing to go to in order to keep me safe.

I’m not sure I deserve it, but I’m not going to fight it either.

Reaching up, I rest my hand over his, running my fingers over the ink of his knuckle tattoos. I can’t see the dark shapes, but I know they’re there. The month, date, and year of the night I was shot.

Maybe I do deserve these men. Maybe we deserve each other.

After all the shit each of us has gone through in our lives, maybe this is the universe’s way of showing us that things can be better. That hope exists, even in the shadows.

My eyes open again, and I gaze up at the hard lines of Marcus’s features. The words he said earlier slip past my lips, even more true now than they were the first time I said them.

“I love you.”

Marcus reacts immediately. He draws in a breath, his eyes sparking as his hand slides around to palm the back of my head. Dragging me toward him, he presses a hard kiss to my lips.

“Say that again, angel,” he mutters, his mouth barely leaving mine as he speaks.

“I love you.” A smile curves my lips, but I keep kissing him through it. “I love you. I love you. I fucking love you.”

“Goddammit.” His other hand snakes around my waist, plastering me against his wet body as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. When we finally break apart for air, he growls softly. “I just had you, angel, and now I want to fuck you all over again. I want to hear you scream those words while I’m inside you.”

“I think I can manage that,” I shoot back, a grin tugging at my lips again.

“You fuckin’ better. I’m already hard as hell just thinking about it.”

He’s not lying. I can feel the evidence of his arousal digging into my lower belly. I half expect Marcus to hoist me up onto the edge of the sink and make me fulfill my promise right now, but after another long, deep kiss, he draws back with a pained groan.

“As much as I hate to stop this, we should get downstairs. Theo and Ryland are going over what we’ve got on the Viper so far, and we should be there for it.” Then he gives me a half smile, one corner of his lips quirking up. “Say it one more time.”

“I love you,” I whisper.

The half-smile blooms into one that takes over his entire face. “I love you so fucking much, angel.”

With one more hard kiss, he steps back, swatting me on the ass as I turn to head for the door. He wraps a towel around his waist and scoops up his clothes before following me into the attached bedroom where I’ve been staying—when I’m not sleeping in one of the men’s rooms, which hasn’t been all that often lately.

“Meet you downstairs in a few minutes?” I ask, heading toward the closet.

“Yeah.”

He crosses to the bedroom door, shooting one last glance over his shoulder as he leaves. He seems about as reluctant to leave the little bubble of happiness we created in the shower as I am, but we both know reality can’t be kept at bay for long.

One day, I promised myself. One day there won’t be all this bullshit to deal with, and we’ll be able to spend the whole day naked if we want. There’ll be time to talk about stupid, trivial stuff and to laugh at jokes and to just be.

I only sort of believe my own vow.

If that day is coming, it’s so far off that I can’t see it through the thunderclouds that are rolling toward us on the horizon.

A storm is coming.

And we’ll be damn lucky if we all make it out alive.

BY THE TIME I get dressed and head downstairs, Marcus is already down there.

I find him seated on a stool at the kitchen island across from Theo and Ryland, the latter of whom also looks freshly showered. Our training session was a lot harder for me than it was for Ryland, but even his heavily tattooed skin was gleaming with a sheen of sweat by the time we finished. It gives me a tiny ego boost to know that I at least made him work for the ass-kicking he gave me.

“Anything new?” I ask, settling onto the stool next to Marcus.

“Not as much as we’d like.” Theo’s blue-green eyes warm as he glances up at me.

I know my cheeks are still flushed from the long shower and the toe-curling sex with Marcus, and I have a feeling Theo and Ryland know exactly why my shower took so long. But I don’t see jealousy on either his face or Ryland’s when the dark-haired man looks up from the laptop in front of him.

I never expected to fall in love with three men, and I don’t think any of them expected to fall for the same woman. But we’ve found our way through this thing that’s developing between all of us, and with every passing day, it feels more solid and real.

“Theo’s right,” Ryland tells me with a grimace. “It’s been harder than we hoped tracking the Viper’s activity, period. We still haven’t gotten anywhere close to tying him to Luca D’Addario.”

“It doesn’t help that we’re trying to do all of this without Luca realizing we’re on to him.” Marcus shakes his head. “If we didn’t have to worry about being subtle, we could probably get some useful information out of people by brute force. But there’s no chance Luca wouldn’t get wind of it if we interrogated one of his contacts. He found out about us killing that piece of shit Jordan within days of when it happened. He’s got people all over the city.”

“Can we afford to go slow?” I ask, my stomach clenching. “If he’s got that many people in his pocket, how long will it be before he realizes we’re digging into things we shouldn’t be, even if we are subtle about it?”

“I don’t know.” Ryland scrubs a hand through his dark brown hair, the muscles of his forearm flexing with the movement. “If we had an exact timeline, it would be a hell of a lot easier. But as of right now, our best bet is to just keep digging as quietly as we can, and pray we unearth something incriminating before Luca finds out what we’re doing.”

“And if he finds out before that happens? Before we get enough information to turn the other players against him?”

Theo snorts a humorless laugh. “Then we’re fucked.”

CHAPTER 3

“CALEB!”

I scream the name, the word tearing from my throat like it’s made of glass.

I don’t know where he is. I can’t see him. The shapeless forms of people move through the space around me, but none of them seem to notice me.

Of course they don’t.

I’m so little. So insignificant.

So fucking helpless.

“LaLa!” A small voice cries out from somewhere in the distance, panicked and tearful. “LaLa!”

“Caleb!”

My mouth forms the word again, but this time, the sound seems to get sucked from my lips as if I’m screaming into a vacuum.

He can’t hear me. And if he can’t hear me, how will he find me? How will I find him?

The raggedy little stuffed elephant in my hands is being crushed into an almost unrecognizable shape as I grip it tighter and tighter. It doesn’t matter, not really. It’s just a thing. An old toy.

But it’s all I have left of my brother.

I JERK AWAKE, my limbs flailing automatically as if I’m trying to stop myself from falling.

“Hey, Rose. It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

The soothing voice penetrates the fog in my mind, cutting through the remnants of the dream that cling to my memories. As my eyes adjust to the darkness and I suck in a deep breath, I feel Theo’s arms come around me, drawing me against the warmth of his body.

I realize with a flash of chagrin that there’s a good chance I woke him up with an elbow to the ribs or something—yet still, he’s pulling me closer, not pushing me away.

Forcing a slow exhale through my nose, I drag in another lungful of air, letting the slow in-out rhythm soothe me as my pulse slowly drops back to normal.

“Bad dream?” Theo murmurs, his face buried in my hair and his breath brushing over my ear.

I swallow, trying to sort through the fragmented pieces in my mind. “Yeah. About… about my brother. Caleb, I think his name is. I don’t know if Marcus told you, but he found that out yesterday.”

“Yeah, he did.” I can feel him nod. “Ryland and I have been helping with that search in between digging around for something on Luca. What was your dream about?”

I burrow deeper into his embrace before I answer, letting the warmth of his body seep into my own.

“I don’t know, exactly. I had a dream like this once before, except this time I kept saying his name. It’s all really vague and confusing, but I think it’s some pieced together scrap of memory from when I was a kid. I’m holding an elephant—a toy one—and I’m looking for Caleb. Trying to find him.” Craning my neck a little, I look up at Theo’s face in the dark. “Do you have a lot of memories from when you were little? Like before you turned five?”

His shadowy features shift as he frowns in thought. “Yeah, some. I remember my mom’s birthday, the year my dad decided to surprise her with a trip to Kauai. And I remember a girl I had a crush on in my kindergarten class.” He grins down at me, his eyes glinting softly in the low light coming through the window. “Don’t worry. I didn’t like her nearly as much as I like you.”

I roll my eyes, elbowing him on purpose this time and drawing a chuckle from him. As ridiculous as it is, a small flare of jealousy rises up inside me, although there’s no way I’ll admit that to Theo. It’s insane to be jealous of a kindergartner, but sanity has never really played a large part in how I feel about these men.

“Why do you ask?” Theo adds, rolling me over onto my back and propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down at me. He keeps our bodies pressed tightly together, one of his legs tangled with mine, and I’m glad he didn’t let too much space open up between us.

“I dunno.” I shrug, tugging my bottom lip between my teeth. “I guess I just feel like I should remember more of that time in my life, you know? Especially since it seems like such an important time. If I really do have a brother, and we somehow got separated, you’d think that would be the kind of thing I’d remember forever.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean. You don’t remember any of it?”

As he speaks, Theo brushes a lock of hair out of my face. Then he drops his hand to my chest, resting his palm between my breasts as his fingertips trace the line of my collarbone. I’m plenty warm in my tank top and shorts, but goosebumps rise on my skin anyway in response to his touch.

I sigh, making his hand rise and fall. “Not really. Mostly in dreams like this one. I mentioned it once to the therapist I saw for a little while after my amputation, but she didn’t seem to think it was all that surprising. My childhood wasn’t exactly easy, and she said it’s not that uncommon for the brain to block out unpleasant memories or shit that’s hard to deal with—and losing my brother would definitely fit under those headings. So maybe it’s not that weird. But I still hate it. It feels like…”

I trail off, clearing my throat.

“Like?” Theo prompts. His face is gentle and open as he looks down at me, and I know if I don’t answer, he won’t push.

“It feels like I’m letting him down,” I say quietly, clenching my jaw against the emotions that try to rise up with my words. “Like I forgot those things to protect myself, but in doing it, I didn’t protect him. If I just knew where he was, if I knew what happened to him, maybe I could help him. Be a real sister to him. But I can’t fucking remember.”

“Hey, now.” Theo’s brows drop low over his eyes. “That’s not fair, Rose. You didn’t forget on purpose. It’s not like it was a choice you made. You were a kid. It’s not your fault. None of it, no matter what happened to your brother.”

I draw in another breath and let it out, my chest shuddering slightly under Theo’s palm. “I know. Logically, I know that. I just wish I could’ve helped him, you know? Hell, I still wish I could help him, if he’s still alive.” I grimace. “I used to have this stupid fantasy of the two of us reconnecting. Of tracking him down and starting over again, building a real brother-sister relationship.”

Something curls in my belly, and I can’t tell if it’s regret or embarrassment. I drop my eyes, looking down at the sheet that covers our lower halves. “I think I mostly had that fantasy because I was really fucking lonely. I wanted someone on my side. In my corner.”

Theo shifts our positions, settling between my legs as he braces his elbows on either side of my head. From this vantage point, I can see how serious his expression is as he gazes down at me.

“That’s not stupid. I always used to want a sibling when I was growing up. My dad was always busy with work and shit, and my mom? I know she loved me, but she was all wrapped up in my dad, in trying to keep him happy and support him as he built his empire. They loved me, but their love always felt… theoretical. I wanted someone who would love me with no strings attached. Whose love I could see and feel.”

I nod, hooking my legs around his waist. The weight of his body on mine feels like a security blanket, grounding me and banishing the last echoes of the nightmare.

“It took a little while,” he adds, “but I found that eventually. With Marcus and Ryland. That was when I realized that blood doesn’t have to define family. Family can be whatever you want it to be. And I found mine with them.”

“I’m glad.” I smile softly up at him, trailing my fingers up the thick muscles along his spine until I reach the short hair at the base of his neck.

His eyelids droop a little as I drag my nails gently over his scalp, but he blinks and refocuses on me. “For the record, I found it with you too. And so did they.”

My thighs tighten around him, pinning our bodies together as a little thrill runs through me.

Family.

That’s what these men are. And I’m a part of that now.

It won’t make me stop looking for my brother, but Theo is right. Family can be anything we want it to be, and I choose to make mine this. Three beautiful, damaged men who’ve been betrayed by their own families. The three men who were once my shadows and now exist in every part of my life.

Sliding my hand up a bit farther, I palm the back of Theo’s head, bringing his face down toward mine as I lift my own head to meet his kiss.

He kisses me back, his dark cherry and oak scent warm and familiar in my nostrils. And as his hand slides down my body, tracing over the stump of my ruined arm and down the curve of my waist, I melt beneath him, giving myself over entirely to his touch.

The terrifying despair of the dream fades away, replaced by something brighter and so much better.

Happiness.

Hope.

SUNLIGHT IS PEEKING around the curtains on the windows when I open my eyes, filling the room with a dim, warm light.

I stretch and yawn, lifting my arms over my head as I arch my back.

The other side of the bed is empty; I could feel that as soon as I woke up. I’m so attuned to these men that I’m pretty sure I would know if Theo was beside me even if he wasn’t touching me—although maybe the real reason for that is because if he were by my side, he’d definitely be touching me.

Since I showered after my training session yesterday afternoon, I forgo one this morning, sliding out of bed and throwing on a pair of yoga pants and a fresh tank top. I’m sure Ryland will want to spar with me again today, putting the home gym the guys have to good use.

As I pull down the hem of the tank top, I grin slightly at the soreness in my body. My muscles are still a bit stiff, especially in my shoulders, and my ass is a little sore from fucking Marcus in the shower.

I’m not complaining though. About any of it.

All the aches and pains in my body are good ones, as far as I’m concerned. They’re reminders that I’m alive, and—in their own ways—reminders of how much the men I’m living with care about me.

And maybe I’m developing a vicious streak, but I find myself looking forward to my training sessions with Ryland. Waling on a pair of mitts or the heavy bag makes me feel less helpless, even if it doesn’t directly help us solve our problem of what to do about Luca.

I pull my hair up into a rough ponytail and slip on my sneakers before heading for the door, and I roll my shoulders lightly as I start to head down the stairs to the first floor.

But when I’m about halfway down, I stop.

Voices are floating up from somewhere—the living room, I think—and I realize almost immediately that they’re not all voices I know. I recognize Marcus’s deep timbre, and I catch a voice that sounds like Theo’s. But there are two others that are unfamiliar, one male and one female.

I debate about whether to go back upstairs, but the guys never told me anything about keeping my presence here a secret. So after a moment’s hesitation, I keep walking, slowing my steps a little as I strain my ears to pick up more of the conversation.

It’s not until I’m on the first floor and heading toward the living room that I begin to catch more of the actual words being spoken. When I do, my heart thunders in my chest.

“…could’ve waited more than a few days to throw a wake for me.”

Marcus’s voice is low and even, but I can hear the anger buried beneath the surface.

Oh fuck. Is he talking to his parents?

My footsteps pause again, my pulse picking up higher and higher as a feminine voice responds.

“We thought you were dead. We were only trying to pay our respects.”

“Sure. And maybe you also figured that since you’d lost your stake in the game, you could use the opportunity to shore up your losses by making deals with all the people who came to ‘mourn’ my death.”

“That’s not true.” His mother’s voice is cultured and softly melodic. It would be pretty if I didn’t hate every word she speaks.

“You weren’t there,” a deep voice adds. Marcus’s dad, I’m assuming. “You didn’t see your mother’s face when the game ended and we learned that you’d disappeared. We all know what that usually means.”

“And now that we know you’re alive, we’ll do everything we can to support you, just like we always have,” his mother says. “Your engagement to Victoria Tatum was unexpected, but I think the marriage could be a good thing. Her family has been gaining prominence recently, especially since she’s held her own in the game so well. You should have the ceremony soon. It will be a good opportunity for us.”

“You approve of the engagement then? Even though I don’t love Victoria? Even though I don’t even fucking like her?”

Marcus’s voice is even more clipped than it was before. And I hear something else in it now besides anger, something buried even deeper.

Pain.

Without even thinking it through, I’m moving again, striding down the hall with quick steps until I reach the living room. When I enter, five sets of eyes turn toward me.

Ryland is in the room too, even though I didn’t hear him speak before. He’s leaning against the wall just inside the doorway, his arms crossed and a dark look on his face. Instead of his usual button-up shirt and dark slacks, he’s got on workout clothes just like I do.

Marcus’s parents are the only ones seated, which tells me a lot about how this conversation is going already. Theo stands off to one side, and Marcus is standing in front of his parents where they sit on the couch, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his shoulders tense.

His mother was in the middle of answering his question when I barged in, but whatever she said got lost in the roar of blood in my ears. I don’t really care what it was anyway.

I don’t really give a shit what she thinks. About any of this.

“Fuck you.”

The words slip past my lips before I can stop them, coated in the same deadly calm Marcus’s voice held earlier.

His mother’s eyes widen until I can see the whites all around her irises. I remember her from the wake, but I’m not sure she remembers me. Her hair is a bit lighter than her son’s, her features delicate and elegant. The perfection of her appearance contrasts almost comically with her scandalized expression.

Honestly, I can’t tell if she’s shocked by what I said, or by the fact that I was the one to say it.

Gideon Constantine narrows his eyes at me before turning to his son. “What the hell is she—”

“Fuck you,” I say again, cutting him off as I raise my voice. “Want me to say it again? Fuck. You.”

His wife has recovered enough to stop looking scandalized. Now she just looks angry. She straightens on the couch, her back so rigid it’s like someone shoved a pole up her ass. “There is no need for—”

“Yes. There is.”

My voice is shaking a little. I’m shaking a little, my body so full of wild fury that I don’t know how to contain it. I feel the same way I did right before I beat Natalie’s face to a pulp, and I have a fleeting thought that maybe I’m about to punch Marcus’s mother.

I don’t look at him as I step forward, keeping my gaze focused on his parents. I might be overstepping horribly right now, but I can’t even bring myself to care if he’s mad at me.

There are things I’ve wanted to say to these two assholes ever since the day I attended Marcus’s wake with grief eating a hole in my heart.

And I may never get another chance, so I’m fucking taking this one.

“I never had a family.” My voice is harsh and strained, and my fingers curl into a fist. “I never knew my parents. I had some shitty foster parents over the years, but even the worst of them was a thousand times better than either of you. Because none of them ever sold my life away to get ahead in the world. None of them used me as a fucking pawn to further their own ends.”

Gideon’s face darkens, his brows lowering. He looks a lot like his son, and it’s strange to see features that are so dear to me on a face I hate so much. “Excuse me, but who the hell are you?”

“I’m the reason your son is still alive.” I take another step forward, tilting my head to look down at them both. “And I’m the reason he’ll stay alive. You can call this thing you signed him up for a ‘game’ as much as you want. Try to pretty it up by making it sound sportsmanlike or some shit. But that doesn’t change what it really is. A fucked up trap. A sentence. Kill or be killed.”

“We wouldn’t have signed him up if we didn’t believe in him. If we didn’t think he could win.”

Marcus’s mother—Norah, I think her name is—has the decency to look a little abashed as she glances from me to Marcus, but I don’t let that weaken the fire burning hot in my chest.

Just from hearing her speak before I entered the room, I have a pretty good idea of how this woman operates. She looks and sounds soft, but it’s all a fucking act. She’s nothing but sharp edges and harsh pragmatism, weighing her son’s life against her own possible gain.

And I hate her for it. I hate her even more than his father.

Because she should’ve protected her goddamn son.

“He will win,” I shoot back, my lips curling into a shape that feels a lot like a snarl. “No fucking thanks to you. He’ll live through this—again, no thanks to you. He’s a better person than either of you could ever hope to be, and that is absolutely no fucking thanks to you.”

“That’s enough.” Gideon’s face is red, his cheeks mottled with color. “I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“She’s right.”

Marcus’s voice is quiet, but it cuts across his father’s like a whip anyway. Gideon and Norah both turn to look at him, and I finally do too.

His jaw is clenched, his face a little pale and carefully devoid of expression. I don’t know what’s going on in his head or his heart, but I can still hear the pain in his voice.

“She’s right,” he repeats. “About all of it.” He shakes his head, huffing a breath. “I tried for so damn long to be the son you wanted me to be. I think I did it for Alexis, to honor her memory in some fucked up way. Like by making you proud, I could somehow make her proud. But she’s gone. And if she were here now? If she could see me now? She’d be fucking ashamed. Not because of the things I’ve done—but because I did them trying to please you.”

Silence falls as Marcus’s words die out. His parents both look slightly stunned. After another long beat, Gideon opens his mouth to speak, but Marcus cuts him off again.

“I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, I don’t care.” His gaze flicks to Ryland and then to Theo, his shoulders squaring. “I’ll finish this thing. We’ll finish it. There’s no other way now that we’re in this deep.” He looks back down at his parents. “But when I do, and when we win, don’t expect any of that power to trickle down to you. Don’t expect anything.”

“Marcus—” His mother softens her voice, obviously about to play ‘good cop’ to his father’s ‘bad cop.’

But she never gets a chance.

“Get out.”

There’s such heavy finality in Marcus’s voice that it seems to suck all the oxygen out of the room. The two words fall like anvils, and I know he’s not just talking about this house.

He’s talking about his life.

There’s another drawn out moment of silence as his parents process his words, clearly trying to figure out how to respond. When I glance at Marcus again, his face is set in a mask. He might as well be made of stone.

His dad sputters for a second, looking like he’s about to speak. But in the end, he just grabs Norah by the elbow and pulls her to her feet as he stands beside her. She shoots me a piercing glare, and for the first time, I see behind the mask of cultured civility she wears to the predator beneath.

Then she and Gideon storm out of the room.

None of the men move to show them out. In fact, we all stay perfectly still until we hear the front door shut behind them.

As soon as the sound echoes through the house, my shoulders relax, tension I didn’t even realize I was carrying draining away. My fingers uncurl, the joints stiff from being clenched so tightly. I can feel little spots of pain along my palm where my fingernails dug deeply into the skin.

I turn to face Marcus fully, finally meeting his gaze for the first time since I burst into the room.

There’s something on his face that breaks my heart, and I realize with a horrible ache in my chest that he just lost what was left of his family.

He still has me, Theo, and Ryland. But that connection to his past, to his childhood, to his sister, is gone.

Fuck. Maybe I shouldn’t have come in here. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.

Before that thought can take root too deeply, Marcus steps toward me. Palming the back of my neck, he brings my face toward his, resting his forehead against mine just like he did yesterday.

“Thank you, angel,” he murmurs softly. “For loving me.”

When he draws back, I want to grab him and pull him toward me again. I want to hold him close and not let go. But I can see in his eyes that he needs time, needs to be alone, and the least I can do is give him that.

“Always,” I whisper, holding his gaze for a heartbeat.

A smile twitches at the corner of his lips, and even though it doesn’t fully form, it’s something. Then he steps around the couch and leaves the room, his footsteps heading down the hallway and up the stairs.

Theo blows out a breath. “Fucking hell.” Then he grins. “Remind me never to get on your bad side, Rose.”

I can tell he’s trying to lighten the mood, and I appreciate it. But my heart is still aching for Marcus, and adrenaline and anger are still whipping through my veins so fast I feel like my skin is buzzing.

Ryland pushes off the wall, rubbing one hand over the inked skin of his forearm as he takes a step toward me.

“Hey. You want to start our training session early today?”

My hand clenches into a fist again, and I nod viciously, my mind already filling with images of Norah and Gideon’s faces.

“Fuck, yes.”

CHAPTER 4

THEO PRESSES a quick kiss to my lips before Ryland and I leave the room.

I follow close behind Ryland as we head toward the back of the house, where Theo has set up a large room as a home gym. There are some free weights and machines that we’ve mostly ignored so far, concentrating instead on the heavy bag in one corner and the empty area in the middle of the room. It gives us enough space to work on fighting technique and practice footwork, blocks, and attacks.

My future as an MMA fighter is pretty fucking bleak, but that’s not the point of any of this. The point is that I’ll hopefully be a little less likely to die if I find myself in a position where I’m being physically threatened.

Ryland glances over his shoulder as we walk into the room. “I know you just wanna hit shit today, so we’ll do a little of that first. Then I’m gonna teach you some disarming techniques.”

I nod, stretching my fingers wide before clenching them into a fist. He’s not fucking wrong about that. I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on anything else until I get some of this rage out of my system.

His hazel eyes gleam as he looks at me, and I can’t quite tell what the emotion is behind them.

Before I can decipher it, he turns and crosses toward the far wall where a stereo system is set up. He turns on music that matches my mood perfectly—loud, harsh, and angry. Then he grabs a hand wrap from a small cubby along the same wall and walks back to me.

I hold up my hand as he nears, and he gets to work wrapping my knuckles.

He glances up at me as he winds the long piece of cloth between my fingers. “I’m glad you said something back there. They needed to hear it. Marcus needed to hear it.”

I grimace. “I hope it wasn’t the wrong thing. Marcus looked pretty fucked up after they left.”

“Yeah.” Ryland shrugs, returning his attention to his task as he wraps the cloth around my hand and down my wrist. “He will be for a while. But he’ll be all right.”

He curls my fingers into a fist, testing his handiwork, then catches my gaze. “Good?”

I nod, rotating my wrist a little. “Yup.”

He grabs two target mitts from the cubby and slips them on as he steps into the middle of the room. “Don’t worry about technique right now. Just let it out.”

Then he slaps the mitts together and holds them up at face-height.

I don’t need him to tell me twice. I do exactly what he said, letting rage pour out of me as my fist flies out over and over. He moves around the room a bit, and I stalk him like a fucking predator, my knees bent as I drive power from my legs like he taught me. The sharp sound of my fist hitting the mitts fills the room, punctuating the heavy beat of the music.

I’m not sure how much time passes. My world narrows down to the black circles in the middle of the red mitts, to the feel of breath passing in and out of my lungs, to the satisfying burn in my muscles.

I picture Gideon Constantine.

I picture his wife.

I picture Natalie.

And I don’t hold back a single fucking bit.

Finally, when I pause between hits, Ryland steps back out of range, dropping his hands down by his sides. “Feel better?”

Sweat drips down my temple, and I can feel it trickling down my spine too. I’m breathing harder than I realized, my heartbeat thundering in my chest. I wipe my forehead with the back of my arm, sucking in a deep drag of air. When I blow it out, I realize that I do feel a little lighter.

“Good.” He smiles. It’s not something he does as often as Theo, and it transforms his whole face, easing the tight lines of his features. “I told you not to worry about technique, but you still kept really good form. Those hits were solid. That’s great. It means you’re absorbing this all well enough to start doing it unconsciously.” He slips off one mitt and shakes out his hand. “That, combined with your natural fighting abilities, will definitely give you a leg up in a confrontation.”

I smirk. “By ‘natural fighting abilities,’ you mean ‘uncontrollable rage,’ right?”

He chuckles, walking over to shove the mitts back into the cubby. “Hey, whatever gets the job done.”

I follow him, and he turns around to help me with my wrap, unwinding it from my wrist and knuckles before setting it aside. Then he pulls a gun from the waistband of his pants.

“Okay, time to work on disarming.” He removes the magazine and clears the chamber, then gestures for me to return to the middle of the room. “This shit isn’t easy, and comes with risks of its own, so only try this if you have no other options, all right?”

I nod, my stomach twisting a little as he raises the weapon. I just saw him get rid of all the bullets, but it’s still slightly terrifying to stare down the barrel of a gun.

Breaking it down into small steps, he shows me how to dart my hand out and deflect the weapon, then twist the barrel to break his grip. He has to make several modifications because I can only do it one-handed, but he’s patient with me, stopping to show me a new technique when something doesn’t work.

Once we work out the best way to disarm someone one-handed, he makes me drill it over and over.

“Can I ask you something?” I glance up at him as he resets his position, raising the gun and pointing it at me.

“Sure.”

My stomach tightens. “That thing back there with Marcus’s parents. You told me you’re glad I said something. That they needed to hear it. But I don’t understand why they haven’t heard it before. After the shit they’ve put you through, the shit they signed you up for, why do any of you still have anything to do with your parents?”

Ryland sighs, lowering the gun a little. “I don’t know. Well, with Theo, I think he sticks around because he’s worried about his mom. With his dad gone, his uncle manipulates her and intimidates her, trying to get his hooks into every aspect of their business. Theo does what he can to help her stand up to that.”

I nod, remembering how Theo had to go deal with his uncle once. I also remember him telling me that he didn’t want to be part of the family business, and I wonder if the only reason he hasn’t cut ties entirely is because of fear of what would happen to his mother if he did. If he wasn’t around to look out for her, what might his uncle try to do?

“And for you and Marcus?” I prod, catching Ryland’s gaze.

His jaw clenches. “It probably sounds fucking stupid to someone like you. But in this life? In this world? Kids are taught from a young age that they’re conduits for their parents, part of a family line that must be honored. Sacrifices have to be made to protect the family name, and to grow its power and standing.”

I frown. “That’s so fucked up though. That makes it sound like they’re doing all of this for you, for the next generation. But if it’s for you, then you should be able to choose what you want to do, not be forced into things.”

I glance down at the gun, realizing we’ve gotten distracted from our training. Lightning fast, my hand whips out, catching the weapon and shoving it to one side, twisting the barrel to break his grip at the same time I step forward and mimic head-butting him.

Ryland’s head jerks backward, and he lets go of the gun. He grins as I hand it back to him, seeming pleased rather than annoyed that I took advantage of his distraction.

“It is fucked up,” he says, returning to our conversation. “I dunno about Marcus, but I always used to tell myself my parents acted like this because they love me. That they wanted me to have more than they had, better than they had.”

He lifts the gun to point it toward me again, but I can see in his eyes that he’s still distracted. There’s something hovering in their hazel depths, something a lot like what I saw in Marcus’s eyes earlier.

Pain.

My heart aches, my chest constricting. These men have all been betrayed by their families, and I’m not sure there’s a deeper kind of hurt than that.

“My mom is dying,” Ryland says quietly.

I blink at him, completely forgetting about the weapon still pointed at me. “She is?”

He nods, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “Yeah. Cancer. She’s been fighting it, but nothing has really worked—slowed it down maybe, given her a few extra months, but not more than that.” His lips press together. “My dad… he won’t even talk about it. He can barely be in the same room with my mom anymore, and he hates any sign of her weakness. She wears wigs to cover up her hair loss, and a ton of makeup to keep herself from looking pale or exhausted.”

He goes quiet for a moment, and I let the silence hang in the air.

I don’t know what kind of relationship he’s had with his mom, and I’m guessing it’s pretty fucking complicated. I’ve gotten the impression both of his parents signed him up for Luca’s game. Still, it must hurt to see her dying.

“I used to think that was love,” he says finally. “Or at least, the only kind of love my father was capable of expressing. Like it hurt too much to think of losing her, so he chose not to face seeing her fade away. He was always a cold, distant son of a bitch toward me, but I told myself he loved me underneath all of that.”

“Maybe he did,” I offer softly. I hate standing up for his father in any way, but I hate the heartbreak I hear in Ryland’s voice.

Ryland’s gaze sharpens, as if he’s pulling himself out of old memories that play inside his head. “No. He didn’t.” He looks at me, his hazel eyes burning. “Because if you love someone, you don’t keep them at arm’s length. You don’t push them away. I tried that for so fucking long with you, and it only hurt us both. If you were sick, if you were dying, I would be there with you, no matter how much it broke my heart. I would want to, because every fucking second is precious.”

I hold his gaze as something expands in my chest, filling up every inch of space until I can barely breathe. I think we’ve both forgotten the training, the gun resting loosely in his grip as we stare at each other.

I remember all those days when Ryland held himself back, stiff and cold as a block of ice. I remember the first time he kissed me—how even then, he was trying to hold himself at a distance.

If life circumstances hadn’t forced him to see things differently, would Ryland have ended up like his father? A man who doesn’t know how to express love except through coldness and control?

The man standing in front of me now is so different than that. It’s hard to imagine him being so closed off now.

Reaching out, I catch Ryland’s wrist. But instead of grabbing the gun, I just move his arm out of the way as I step toward him.

“You are nothing like your father,” I say. “I don’t even have to know him to know that.”

Resting my hand on his chest, I lean up and press a kiss to his lips. He kisses me back, his tattooed arms going around me as he pulls me closer, trapping my hand between us. His lips move against mine, warm and hungry.

Music still plays from the speakers. I’m not sure how long we’ve been training for, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s enough for today. There are other things I want to do with Ryland, and none of them involve hitting him.

He must feel the same way, because he lifts me off my feet and lays me on the floor in one quick movement. He sets the gun aside as he hovers over me, his large body braced over mine. My legs fall open, welcoming him into the cradle of my body as he kisses me again, his tongue stroking against mine.

When he draws away to look down at me, the beautiful hazel of his eyes is filled with warmth.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

A smile pulls at my lips. “I know.”

It’s still pretty new, hearing any of these men say those words to me, but I know I’ll never get tired of hearing them. Ryland isn’t the only one who might’ve spent his life closed off and cold if circumstances hadn’t forced him to change.

When Ryland kisses me again, it’s harder and deeper, his lips moving against mine as he braces himself up with one hand. The other roams over my body, giving my breast a not-too-gentle squeeze before gliding down and fisting the hem of my tank top.

I arch my back as he drags it up and over my head. My nipples peak as cool air hits them, and I’m suddenly glad I wore a tank top with a small built-in bra. It’s one fewer layer for Ryland to have to take off.

He’s pleased too, if the low growl in his throat is any indication.

He works his way down my neck and chest, swirling his tongue over one nipple while his fingers play with the other. Then he moves lower, nipping at the skin of my stomach as his hands latch on to the waistband of my workout pants.

Dragging them down along with my underwear, he presses a kiss to my inner thigh as soon as he has access to my bare skin. He abandons my pants somewhere around my ankles, leaving my shoes on too as he grips my thighs in his large hands and presses them open.

I groan as he drags his tongue up the line of my pussy, shifting my hips and grinding against his face, impatient for more already. “Fuck, Ryland.”

He looks up at me, and I take advantage of his attention, grabbing a fistful of his almost-black hair and dragging him toward me. His mouth on my pussy feels amazing, but I need something else right now.

“Don’t you dare make me come without your cock inside me,” I rasp out, giving another tug on his hair.

He laughs, and I feel the vibrations of it against my clit before he gives me what I want, crawling up my body to hover over me again. I help him lose his shirt, pulling impatiently on the hem as he drags it over his head. Then my hand skates down the chiseled planes of his torso, my fingertips grazing the ridges of his abs before delving lower. I brush against the line of his cock through his athletic pants, and he shudders slightly.

With one hand, he shoves his pants down over his ass and hips, allowing his cock to spring free. It’s heavy and hard, the tip of it brushing against my stomach and smearing a drop of precum against my skin.

“You want this, Ayla? You want me?”

The roughness of his voice makes my pussy clench. He fucking knows I do. But he wants to hear me say it.

And I want to tell him.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Fuck me, Ryland. Hard. Please.”

His pupils dilate, the blackness expanding and eating up the color of his irises. He fists himself, dragging his cock down my stomach and through my neatly trimmed curls before circling my clit with the head of his dick.

I writhe beneath him, working my hips in tandem with his movements, getting myself off on his cock. “God. More.”

He grunts, dragging his shaft a little lower until the broad head breaches my entrance. He shifts his hips forward just a little, just enough to let me feel him, sliding in barely more than an inch.

The tease, the promise of what’s coming, draws a low whine from my throat. My hips are moving again, rolling toward his as I try to bring him deeper inside my needy channel. My damn pants are still stuck around my ankles, preventing me from wrapping my legs around him, so all I can do is wait until he decides to give me what I need.

What we both need.

Glancing downward, I watch his abs flex with every small thrust, watch his dick pulse as he slides partway into my body. It’s filthy and gorgeous, completely maddening and so fucking hot.

And then, without warning, he draws back a little and slams inside, filling me to the brim in one hard stroke.

My head tilts back on a scream of pleasure as sensations rush through my body, lighting up my nerve endings like gasoline poured on a fire. The heavy, angry beat of the music playing from the speakers is a perfect accompaniment as Ryland starts to fuck me hard, drawing out and driving in again.

I clutch at his shoulder, holding on as our bodies rock against the floor. When my eyelids start to droop closed, Ryland grabs a fistful of my hair close to the scalp, tilting my head up a little again.

“No. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, Ayla. Only at me.”

My eyelids fly wide open, and my gaze locks with his. His face hovers close to mine, the lines of his features taut with desire and effort as he pounds into me.

He fucks me like it’s the first time. Like he’s scared it might be the last time. And even as his tempo picks up and the sound of our bodies colliding rises over the music, he doesn’t let go of that connection between us. One hand stays wrapped around my hair, and he doesn’t look away as he drives into me over and over.

I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose, or if he’s even aware of it, but the way he’s fucking me now is the complete opposite of the way he kissed me that morning at the safe house—a day that feels like a million years ago now.

That kiss was feather-light, and even though I could feel how much he wanted it, how much he craved the connection between us, he was still pulling himself away.

But this?

This is him pouring himself into me, giving me every bit of himself. Letting me feel the full force of his desire and trusting that I can take it.

That he won’t break me.

Pleasure hums just beneath my skin, filling my body from head to toe, overwhelming in its intensity. And when it breaks in a rush, the orgasm crashing through me, I don’t close my eyes or look away from Ryland’s hungry gaze.

I let him see everything, and I feed all of it right back into him.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Ayla!”

He grunts out my name, slamming into me one more time before grinding his hips against mine in harsh circles, his cock pulsing inside me. I can feel the hot flood of his cum, and my walls clench around him as if demanding every last drop.

When our bodies finally still, Ryland drops his forehead to my shoulder, breathing hard. I crane my neck to nuzzle against him, drawing in a deep lungful of his spicy sandalwood scent. The musky scent of sweat is mixed in too, and I know he could probably taste the salt of my sweat when he worked his way down my body earlier.

Without lifting his head. Ryland reaches down between us, finding my clit with his fingertips. It’s still throbbing with the aftershocks of my climax, and the feel of his broad fingers rolling over it makes each pulse feel like a mini-orgasm.

I moan, shifting beneath him, and Ryland chuckles.

“You told me you wanted to come with my cock inside you. So as long as I’m still inside you, I plan on making you come as many times as I can.”

My laugh gets caught in my throat, turning into another moan of pleasure as his fingertips move faster and harder. The slickness of my arousal coats his fingers, and he doesn’t let up until he’s wrung another full-blown orgasm from me.

“Oh God,” I gasp as he finally starts to slow his movements. My entire lower half feels like it’s pulsing with the aftershocks, swollen and flushed with arousal. “Jesus.”

He drags his hand out from between us, lifting his head and watching me with hooded eyes as he brings his fingers to my mouth, offering them to me. I wrap my lips around them without hesitation, swirling my tongue over the broad pads of his fingertips. His eyes darken, and he rolls his hips against mine again. I can tell his cock has softened a little, but he doesn’t seem to have any desire to stop fucking me.

As he’s sliding his fingers slowly out of my mouth, a loud bang echoes from the front of the house.

We both freeze.

Over the sound of the music, I can hear someone yelling, the sound harsh and strained.

Fuck. What the hell is going on?

CHAPTER 5

RYLAND SLIDES out of me quickly, getting to his feet before reaching down to help me up.

He pulls his pants back up as he crosses to the stereo and shuts off the music, and I scramble to get my clothes back on too, cleaning myself up a little with a rag Ryland tosses me before tugging my pants up and slipping my shirt over my head.

The gun was abandoned on the floor beside us while Ryland fucked me, and he grabs the magazine and slams it back in, switching the safety off before heading toward the door. I follow close on his heels, and he doesn’t tell me to stay behind, although I notice he keeps his body angled in front of mine protectively.

Someone is still shouting from the front of the house, and just like earlier with Marcus’s parents, I can’t quite place the voice.

We move quickly and quietly down the hall, and when we emerge into the foyer, Ryland with his gun braced in both hands, I blink in shock.

It’s Dominic.

He’s standing just inside the door with Theo and Marcus both a few feet away from him, their postures angry and tense. Dominic looks about the same. His face is red, his dark hair a bit wild. His gaze flies to Ryland and the weapon in his hand, and he flinches slightly. Then his jaw tightens and he puffs up his chest.

“You can’t fucking shoot me. You lost your chance to do that weeks ago,” he spits.

“I can and I will if I have to,” Ryland shoots back, his voice low and hard. “What the fuck are you doing here, Dominic?”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to find out,” Theo says, sounding pissed. “He just barged in here and started yelling about shit. I have no idea what’s got his panties in such a goddamn bunch.”

“Like you don’t fucking know.” Dominic glares at Theo, his chest rising and falling fast. I’ve never seen him look this agitated, not even when Ryland had the barrel of a gun pressed under his chin. “You’ve had it out for me ever since Carson and I kidnapped her.”

He shoots a glance my way, and I want to wring his fucking neck. He makes it sound like the guys’ hatred of him is an overreaction, like setting fire to my apartment building and drugging me so they could abduct me was nothing.

“I know you sent that shit to Luca,” Dominic continues, his voice strained as he turns his attention to the guys again. “Who the fuck else would it be? You’re trying to sabotage me, and it’s fucking bullshit!”

“Sent what to Luca?” Marcus demands. I get the distinct impression that if Dominic doesn’t say something that makes sense soon, Marcus is going to lay him out just for being a pain in the ass.

“The adoption papers.” Dominic’s lips press into a hard line. “Someone mailed them to Luca, and now people are claiming I shouldn’t be allowed to compete in the game because I’m not a blood heir to my parents. That I should be disqualified.”

“Adoption papers?” Marcus furrows his brows. “I didn’t know you were adopted.”

“I didn’t either,” Dominic growls. “I had to hear that shit from Luca D’Addario. Because someone dug up shit that doesn’t concern them and tried to use it against me.” His hands curl into fists. “That’s fucking low, you motherfuckers.”

“It’s the first I’m hearing about it,” Theo throws in, crossing his arms. “But even if we had sent those documents to Luca, how is it any more low than kidnapping Ayla? Someone who wasn’t even part of the game? Trying to use her as bait, threatening her life? I don’t care what scale you’re measuring it on, kidnapping is worse than whatever happened to you.”

Dominic’s jaw clenches. His gaze flicks to me again, and this time I see a hint of guilt in his eyes.

“That was Carson’s idea. He said you three were getting too powerful, that as long as you were working together, no one would be able to stop you—unless we took all three of you out at once.”

“Carson’s idea, huh?” Marcus tilts his head like a predator, his gaze locked on the man in front of him. “Convenient that it was all his idea, and he’s dead now. That doesn’t get you off the fucking hook, Dom. You still went along with it. You were still complicit.”

Dominic’s nostrils flare. The wild look is still in his eyes, making him seem like a trapped animal. “Yeah. Fine. I am. Just like we all are. I’m just trying to get through this, to fucking survive. You think I’m proud of the shit I’ve done? Are you?”

He catches Marcus’s gaze as he speaks, and I have a sudden vivid memory of the photograph Carson shoved into my face when he and Dom had me tied up.

Devin Brooks.

Shadows partially obscured his dark hair and face, but it was hard to miss the bullet hole or the pool of blood surrounding his body.

I doubt Marcus is proud of that. But I know he wouldn’t take it back either. Kill or be killed. That’s what Luca and his sick fucking game have forced the players into.

“You should be happy,” I say suddenly, breaking the silence that’s fallen over the room. “If what you say is true and you get ejected from the game because you’re not a true heir or whatever, you should be glad. Yeah, maybe you won’t have a shot at the prize, but at least you’ll live.”

Dominic turns to look at me, and alongside the wildness in his eyes, I see something else even worse.

Hopelessness.

It turns my stomach a little, and I force myself not to feel any pity for this slimy asshole. He fucking abducted me, and I can never forget that.

“You think that’s how it works?” He laughs humorlessly. “You think it’s that easy? That I wouldn’t jump at the chance to get out of this shit—wash my hands of it and walk away? If I get disqualified, I’m dead. Your fucking boyfriends would probably be first in line to kill me.”

Ryland makes a low sound in his throat that sounds a hell of a lot like agreement, but Dominic doesn’t acknowledge it. His gaze is still burning into mine, his expression hard.

“Now that the game has started, the only way to survive it is to win it,” he says quietly. “There’s no other fucking option.”

Silence falls again for a long moment. Ryland still has his gun drawn, aimed at Dominic’s head, but his posture relaxes slightly. No one else is armed, not even Dom, and I doubt the asshole will try anything. He still thinks this game of Luca’s is real, so he’s still abiding by the rules laid out at the beginning. And that means he can’t kill any of us until the next seventy-two-hour free-for-all starts.

Well, I guess technically he could kill me. But even though I don’t think much of this cocksucker, I’m pretty sure he’s smart enough to realize that my boyfriends wouldn’t let him get away with it if he tried.

Boyfriends.

Is that what they are?

Dominic threw the word out like an insult, but none of the men even batted an eye when they heard him say it. He and Carson obviously realized that I was important to all three men, since they made the decision to use me as bait to lure the trio in.

But boyfriends somehow sounds too common, too small for what these men are to me.

They’re my shadows come to light.

My protectors.

My lovers.

My obsessions.

“Sorry you had to find out you were adopted like this,” Theo finally says, not sounding sorry at all. “But we had nothing to fucking do with it. I hadn’t even heard about it until now, so we aren’t the ones petitioning Luca to kick you out of the game either. You can believe us or not, but I think it’s time for you to get the fuck out of my house. And next time you drop by unannounced like this, expect to be greeted with a fucking bullet between your eyes.”

Dominic glares at all three of the men, his chest puffed up and his jaw tight. Then he seems to slowly deflate a little. The bravado and righteous anger fades, and he wrenches the front door open before disappearing through it.

Theo steps forward and locks the door behind him, and Ryland tucks his gun into the waistband of his pants. He never bothered to put his shirt back on, and his colorfully inked tattoos shift as he moves.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters.

“What an asshole.” Theo’s face is still dark. I rarely see him truly pissed like this, and I have a feeling it’s got a lot to do with the role Dom played in my kidnapping. I think my men will hold a grudge against him forever for that, and I don’t mind one bit.

“Should we have told him it doesn’t matter?” I ask, looking from one man to the other. “That this is all a lie anyway?”

“No.” Marcus’s voice is hard. “Even if we did tell him, he might not believe us. He obviously thinks we’re fucking with him already, and he’d probably think it was a lie we made up to turn him against Luca. Or worse, he could tell Luca what we suspect. Regardless of whether Dom believes it, Luca would know that we’re on to the truth.”

“Yeah.” Theo nods in agreement. “Until we have proof, we can’t tell anyone shit. It would only blow up in our faces.”

No one else speaks in response, but I know we’re all thinking the same thing as we silently head out of the foyer.

We need to find that fucking proof.

And we need to do it fast.

CHAPTER 6

WE SPEND the next few days buried in work, doing everything we can to hunt down information about the Viper and Luca.

If it were just up to me, we’d be pretty fucking screwed. As demonstrated by my hunt for my brother, my ability to pry information out of unwilling people is minimal at best. Fortunately, the men have a lot more resources than I do, and contacts who are able to do a lot of digging for them.

They’re careful about who they recruit, and what exactly they tell them we’re looking for, disguising the true nature of our search.

I asked Theo whether the rift between Marcus and his parents will mean that he’s cut off from his family’s money and resources, but he assured me that the Constantines are pragmatic above all else. As long as Marcus is still in the game—or at least, as long as they think he is—they’ll continue to support him, probably in the hopes that if he wins, he’ll forgive them for all the shit they’ve done in the past.

Besides, Marcus has money in a trust that his parents can’t touch, and beyond that, he’s made contacts in Halston’s underground circles—relationships that aren’t just based on money, but on the exchange of information and favors.

I can tell he’s still a little fucked up about finally breaking away from his family, but I don’t press him to talk about it. Instead, I stick close to all three men, letting them know through my presence that I’m here, and that we’re a team.

A picture slowly starts to emerge of the Viper’s rise to power in Halston. He was subtle and slow-moving, never taking two steps when he could take one, never overshooting or making a grab for too much at once.

That’s why he was able to stay pretty well under the radar for so long. Individual people might see him as a problem, but they didn’t have the full picture—they didn’t realize he wasn’t just encroaching on their territory, but on their enemies’ and allies’ territory as well.

But no matter how much we find out about the Viper, Luca’s name stays firmly out of the picture.

“This is insane,” I mutter one afternoon, sitting back on the couch and rubbing my eyes. The skin around my stump prickles as I let out an irritated noise.

I still haven’t bothered getting a new prosthesis made—there’s been too much else going on that took precedence—and I’m finding that I don’t miss it. It was mostly just for aesthetics anyway, and none of my men seem to mind that I’m missing part of my limb. I never feel a need to hide it or cover it up around them.

They don’t wince at it or fetishize it. It’s just a part of me, one that they love and accept as much as any other part of me.

“What’s insane?” Theo glances over at me.

I shake my head. “When I figured out that Luca and the Viper are the same person, it seemed so obvious to me. So clear. I had no idea it would be this hard to find actual evidence to support my gut feeling.” My lips pull down in a frown. “What if I’m wrong? It’s possible. This is all based on a goddamn tattoo I saw. That’s insane. Maybe Luca just fucking likes snakes.”

Theo sets his laptop on the small table next to the chair he’s sitting in—the same one where I crawled onto Ryland’s lap the night we found out Marcus was still alive. He heaves himself to his feet and walks over to me, using two fingers under my chin to tilt my head up.

His lips brush my forehead, his breath warm on my skin. “You’re not wrong, Rose. I know it. Just because we haven’t found it yet doesn’t mean the evidence isn’t there. It just means Luca is good. He’s smart and savvy. So we need to be careful.”

I lean into his touch for a moment, and when he stands up again, I miss his warmth immediately. “If he kept such a tight lid on shit, where are we supposed to find solid evidence? He probably never let any of that shit leave his house.”

“Maybe not. But we might have a chance to access it anyway.” Marcus’s voice draws my attention, and I look up to see him striding into the living room, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“What do you mean?”

“Luca’s throwing another party,” he says, his gaze flicking from me to Theo to Ryland. “This weekend.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Another one? Is it common for him to throw two parties back-to-back like this?”

“No.” Marcus doesn’t hesitate with his answer, and the other two men shake their heads, backing him up.

“I wonder what he’s after,” Theo muses.

“Maybe it’s harder for the Viper to keep his dealings under the radar.” Ryland pushes his rolled sleeves higher up his forearms. We trained together this morning, but he’s already showered and put on an expensive button-down and dark pants. “He could hope that a party will keep people distracted. There’ll be a lot of maneuvering and negotiating, everyone focused on each other instead of on him.”

“We can use that though.” Marcus’s eyes gleam, the blue of his right iris as brilliant as a cloudless sky. “He’ll be focused on his guests, and we’ll have a chance to get into his house again. At the last party, I dragged Ayla out of the ballroom and down the hall, and no one gave a fuck. We’ll have to be more cautious than that this time, but if we can get access to Luca’s office or something, we can find out what kind of shit he keeps on his computer. What he doesn’t want leaked.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Do any of you guys know how to hack a computer?”

Marcus grins at me, looking almost boyish. “Fuck, no. But we’ve got a skilled hacker on retainer.”

“The same one who helped us look through security camera footage around the warehouses,” Theo adds, catching my gaze. “He’s good.”

“Okay.” I chew my lip, still not sure I like this plan. I know we’re getting down to the wire, running out of safer options, but it seems risky as hell. “So do we bring him with us?”

Ryland shakes his head. “Nah. Luca’s parties are too exclusive. We brought you because Luca already knew about you—he probably heard all about you after the game ended. But bringing anyone else would be suspicious. We’ll have to see if Zee can do it remotely or talk one of us through it.”

Great.

I like this plan less and less the more the guys talk about it, but I can’t come up with a better alternative. Everything else we’re doing feels like spinning our wheels, hoping against hope that we’ll find something definitive enough to turn the other contestants against Luca before the clock runs out.

But this?

This will mean walking into the Viper’s den.

Literally.

CHAPTER 7

STANDING in front of the full-length mirror, I smooth down the fabric of my dress.

I thought the dress I wore to Luca’s first party was extravagant, but this makes that one look like a wet trash bag.

The fabric is light blue and feels like butter beneath my fingertips. A sweetheart neckline shows just a hint of cleavage, and the dress hugs my waist before flaring out in a full skirt that brushes the floor. But the most stunning part about it is the beading. Delicate crystals are sewn in beautiful patterns over the bodice and partway down the skirt, the patterns growing lighter and fading away as the billowy fabric reaches my knees.

I was in favor of picking something simple and understated. Something that wouldn’t draw attention—maybe a simple black cocktail dress. But the guys all convinced me that among the crowd who’ll be in attendance tonight, the best way to blend in is by trying to stand out. My dress is eye-catching, sure. But I won’t be the only one dressed to the nines tonight. If I went with something too simple, I’d draw attention for the wrong reasons.

And besides, we need the extra folds of fabric in my dress to hide the gun that’ll be strapped to my thigh and the small flash drive that I’ll use to pull information from Luca’s computer—assuming we can get into his office.

Thank all that’s fucking holy, I won’t have to do the hacking myself. I have another small device I’ll plug into the computer that will allow Zee to try to hack it remotely.

Every single one of the men objected strongly to me being the one to sneak into the office, but it was the only way I could get on board with this plan. It’s so fucking dangerous, and I couldn’t just sit back and let the guys be the ones to take on that danger.

Theo will come with me. We’ll put on a show similar to what Marcus and I did last time, leaving the ballroom together and letting the gossip-hungry guests think we’re sneaking off to fuck somewhere. Marcus and Ryland, meanwhile, will keep an eye out in the ballroom and run interference as needed—particularly with Victoria and Dom, who are our biggest concerns at the moment.

“This is so fucking stupid,” I mutter to myself, running my fingers over the expensive fabric again.

“Doesn’t look stupid to me.”

I jump at the voice and turn around to see Theo standing in the doorway. He strides into the room, coming to stand behind me as I turn back to face the mirror. His gaze meets mine as his arms loop around me with comfortable possessiveness.

“You look fucking gorgeous, Rose.” His fingers trail over my ribcage, and even through the fabric of the dress, I can feel the warmth of his skin. He cocks an eyebrow. “You armed?”

“Yup.” I nod. “Good to go.”

He spins me around, and I meet his gaze face-to-face instead of through the mirror. His hands come up to frame my face, and his touch is heartbreakingly gentle as he tips my chin up.

“We’ll be okay, Rose,” he murmurs quietly. “It’ll all work out.”

His promise is laughably impossible to back up. There are at least a dozen ways we know of that tonight could go wrong, and probably a hundred more we can’t even anticipate. But the confidence in his voice settles the bees that seem to be buzzing around in my chest, letting me relax a little.

He grimaces, his lips pulling to one side. “Eh, maybe you’re right, after all. It is stupid. It’s fucking stupid that fate brought you into our lives and now that bitch won’t even let us just enjoy this shit. It’s stupid that I’m almost glad things happened the way they did, no matter how terrible it was—because if even one thing had gone differently, we might not be standing here today.” His thumbs trace the line of my lower lip, making my skin tingle with awareness. “This is what I want, Rose. This. You, me. Ryland. Marcus. All of us together, forever.”

His blue-green eyes shine with sincerity, and I swallow down the lump in my throat. “It’s what I want too. More than anything.”

“I’ll give it to you,” he promises. “Or at the very least, I’ll die trying.”

He drops his head to kiss me, and I stretch up to meet his lips with mine, desperate to feel the tangible connection between us. I don’t like his promise one bit, but I can’t exactly fault him for saying it.

Because I feel the same way.

I realized a while ago that I would kill for Marcus—for any of these men—if it came down to it.

But it’s more than that.

I would die for them too.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Theo adds with his signature grin when our kiss finally ends. The dimple on his cheek flashes, and I almost imagine that he heard my internal thoughts.

“A-fucking-men,” I mutter.

It’s a strange feeling, to be so willing to die for the men I love and at the same time, so desperate to live for them too.

I want the future Theo promised.

I want forever.

And I’ll fight to get it, even if the road to happiness is littered with fallen bodies.

He kisses me again, a lingering press of his lips before he pulls away and takes my hand.

“Come on.” He grins as he leads me toward the door. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back home. And I’ve got a few ideas of how we can celebrate a successful mission.”

I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Would one of those ideas involve recreating what happened after Luca’s last party, by chance?”

He glances back at me as we leave my bedroom, heat flashing in his eyes. “For starters.”

The other two men are waiting for us downstairs. Just like last time, they’re all dressed to the nines in bespoke suits that fit their tall, broad frames perfectly. I wish I had more time to appreciate how fucking good they look, but as we head into the garage and move toward Theo’s car, the butterflies in my stomach start flapping harder and harder, distracting me.

It’ll be okay. We can fucking do this.

The drive to Luca’s house is tense and quiet. His place is outside the city, over thirty minutes away, but the trip seems to take no time at all—probably because I’m dreading our arrival so much.

When Theo pulls into the circular drive that fronts Luca’s massive mansion, I scan the property, checking for security cameras and guards. I don’t remember an overwhelming presence of guards last time we came for a party, and I don’t see one this time either. But that definitely doesn’t mean this place isn’t protected.

The only thing that gives me hope is the thought that Luca is so powerful, so well-positioned as the de facto ruler of Halston, that he doesn’t feel like he needs a massive security force at his party.

Because trying to steal from him would be suicide, and everyone here knows it.

The guys and I know it too.

We’re just dumb enough to try anyway.

Leaving Theo’s car with a valet, we walk up the steps to the house. We’re greeted at the door by a member of Luca’s staff and ushered into the same ballroom I recognize from last time.

As we walk inside the large space, several heads turn to look at us. A number of guests are here already, drinking expensive cocktails and talking.

“I notice the Purcells are nowhere to be seen,” I murmur, sweeping my gaze over the space. “Guess they lost their invite after Luca rejected their attempt to swap in their daughter for Carson.”

“Yeah.” Theo grunts. “Assholes.”

I don’t know Carson’s sister at all, and judging by the rest of her family, I’m not sure I’d like her all that much. But I’m still glad that she managed to avoid getting roped into this fucking game. The whole thing is bad fucking news, and I believe what Dominic said—once you’re in it, the only way out is victory or death.

Speaking of Dominic…

My gaze scans the crowd again, and sure enough, I find him on the far side of the ballroom. He’s standing stiffly, gripping a drink in one hand and watching the people around him mingle and socialize. No one is talking to him, and I wonder if the revelation about his bloodline has made him a pariah. I haven’t heard anything about him being eliminated from the competition, but maybe the other players have already written him off.

I pull my gaze away before he notices me looking at him, catching sight of Marcus’s parents talking to another older couple. Luca is in the middle of the massive ballroom with several eager sycophants gathered around him. I see Ryland’s parents too, and now that I know what to look for, I can pick up signs of his mother’s illness. She hides it well, walking gracefully beside her husband as they make their way across the room.

“There’s Victoria,” Theo murmurs. “Two o’clock.”

I glance in the direction he indicated, and as soon as my gaze lands on the auburn-haired woman, I find myself glad as hell that the men insisted I wear this dress tonight.

The one she’s got on is almost as show-stopping as the one with the massive train she wore last time, and I’m glad that mine is at least as nice as hers. It’s petty and stupid, and I have no reason to be jealous of her for anything—I have Marcus’s heart, after all, and she never will—but a little flash of pride rises up in me anyway.

I may not be from this world, but I can hold my own here when I need to.

The men and I make our way through the crowd, snatching up drinks from a passing server’s tray. We need to wait at least an hour before we make our move. If Theo and I slip away too quickly, it’ll look suspicious.

Acting natural for an hour while your heart is crawling up your throat is next to impossible, but I somehow manage to avert the panic that keeps trying to hijack my brain. It helps that all three of the men stay close to me, at least one of them touching me at pretty much all times. It grounds me, reminding me why we’re doing this and that I’m not alone.

Finally, Marcus shifts closer to me and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He lifts it to his lips and kisses my knuckles, and when the earth and air of his gaze meets mine, I can see so much love shining in his eyes that it makes my heart stutter.

“Good luck, angel,” he murmurs. “Be careful.”

Ryland rests his hand on my lower back, pressing a kiss to my temple. Then he and Marcus split off and head deeper into the crowded ballroom. Marcus heads toward Victoria, who gives him a smug smile when she sees him coming. My hand curls into a fist, but I turn away. He’s got this handled. And we’ll deal with the bullshit engagement she forced on him after we take down Luca.

Or we’ll all die, and then we’ll never have to deal with it.

Forcing that dark thought out of my mind, I step toward Theo, letting a smile play across my face.

This is the only part of our plan that I actually like.

I never really considered myself a territorial person before, but I like the idea of kissing Theo in a room full of people. Of publicly staking my claim on him. It doesn’t work well for the cover we’re trying to spin tonight, but if it did, I’d kiss Marcus and Ryland too.

Let the world know.

Let people talk.

These men are mine.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He grins at me, wrapping an arm around my back and pulling me closer. Then his lips find mine.

Despite everything, despite the danger we’re in and the risky mission we’re about to attempt, it’s almost frighteningly easy to lose myself in Theo’s kiss. The hum of voices around us seems to fade a little, until all I’m aware of is his body molded to mine, his palm on my back, and his cherry wood scent in my nostrils.

When we break apart, he makes a noise low in his throat, then whispers, “Fuck Luca. Cockblocking son of a bitch.”

I almost laugh out loud. The whole point of our kiss was to convince anyone who might be watching us that the two of us are about to sneak off and tear each other’s clothes off.

And I have to admit, I’m disappointed we can’t do exactly that.

“I’ve been thinking up more ways to celebrate,” I whisper back, lingering in the circle of Theo’s embrace for a moment longer. “I’ve come up with some good ones. We just need to get through this first.”

He groans softly, nipping at my lower lip before releasing me. Then he takes my hand and leads me across the ballroom, his stride confident and determined.

I keep my gaze settled squarely on his back. I want to glance around and see if anyone’s noticed us, but I know it will only make me look guilty.

Pushing open a door on the far side of the room, Theo tugs me through. Once the door closes behind us, his expression shifts, and he glances around quickly.

“Looks clear. Let’s go.”

We hurry down the hall, wending our way through the large house toward the room we were escorted to when the men were summoned by Luca so he could yell at them for killing Jordan.

The place is fucking huge, and every time we turn a corner, I tense in anticipation of running into a militia of armed guards.

But there are none.

We know there are security cameras placed around the mansion, but we’ve decided not to worry about them. It’s possible we could’ve plugged Zee into the closed circuit system and had him turn the feeds off, but that would’ve taken time we don’t have. Our hope is that the security camera feeds aren’t monitored live, so we’ll be long gone before anyone sees it. If we’re smooth enough and cover our tracks, there’s a chance no one will ever check the footage and Luca will never know we broke into his office at all.

God, that’s way too many fucking “I hopes.”

As we walk at a fast clip, I try to shove away thoughts of all the ways this could go wrong. It’s too fucking late to bail now, and Luca may already be getting suspicious anyway. There’s a reason he decided to throw this party tonight, and it definitely wasn’t just generosity of spirit.

He wanted to bring everyone together for a reason. Maybe to get a read on people? To try to pit the contestants harder against each other?

“There.”

Theo’s quiet voice refocuses my attention, and I pick up the pace as we approach the heavy door of Luca’s office. There are no guards stationed outside, but the door is locked.

I turn away from it, scanning the corridor as Theo drops into a crouch, pulling two small pieces of metal from his jacket pocket.

“I’m surprised he doesn’t have a fingerprint scanner or a voice activated lock or something,” I murmur.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Theo shrug. “Hazards of being old school.”

It probably only takes Theo a few minutes to pick the lock, but it feels like a fucking hour as my heart does its best to jam itself into my throat. The back of my tongue tastes coppery, and I’m so fucking anxious I could barf.

Then he makes a quiet sound of victory and stands up, shoving the lock picks back into his pocket.

“Knew there was a reason you keep me around, didn’t you?” He winks, then swings the door open for me, following close behind as I step inside.

The interior of the office is just like I remember it, full of dark woods and decorated with tasteful accents. A laptop sits on the desk, shiny and dark gray.

Letting out a shaky breath, I cross to it, already digging out the flash drive and the connector from the hidden pockets of my dress. I flip the top open and plug both in, trying not to panic at the password screen that flashes to life as the computer wakes up.

Zee promised it wouldn’t be a problem. That he could get past the computer’s security and transfer files to the flash drive.

I fucking hope he’s worth whatever the guys pay him.

Theo taps out a quick message on his phone, letting the hacker know we’re ready. Then he opens the door a fraction of an inch, keeping a lookout while I wait for… whatever the fuck is supposed to happen next.

For a long moment, I’m terrified that whatever it is, it’s not working.

Nothing changes on the screen, just the password prompt and the little cursor blinking over and over.

Then, finally, the screen flickers. The password prompt disappears, and the desktop pops into view, several folders arrayed in neat rows at the top of the screen. After another few moments, the light on the flash drive flickers.

Theo glances at his phone. “He’s transferring files now. He said he’s just doing a grab of everything he can get his hands on. Some of it’s encrypted, but we can sort through it later when we’re not at Luca’s fucking house.”

“I like that plan,” I whisper fervently, staring at the computer screen so hard I’m surprised I don’t burn a hole in the damn thing.

There isn’t even a progress bar to let me know how close the transfer is to being complete, and my heart slams unevenly against my ribs as my gaze darts between the screen and the flash drive.

Then Theo’s phone vibrates again. He glances down, then back up at me, nodding once. “It’s done. Grab it and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

I yank the flash drive from the port with shaking fingers, then pull out the connector too.

Shoving them both into their hiding spots in my dress, I join Theo by the door. He peers outside once more and gestures me forward.

It takes everything I have not to sprint down the hallway as we make our way back to the ballroom. We got what we came for, but I won’t be able to relax until we’re out of this fucking house and safe at Theo’s place.

We slip through the same door we left by, and my gaze immediately scans the crowd, looking for Ryland and Marcus. Marcus is still talking to Victoria, and Ryland has joined him. They both glance up as we enter, and although their faces are carefully neutral, I can almost feel the relief emanating from them.

Theo rests a hand on my lower back, and we start to navigate our way through the clusters of people toward the two other men. But when we’re halfway there, movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention.

A man in a black suit enters from a door at the back of the room.

He could just be another guest, another party-goer. But somehow, I know he’s not. Maybe it’s in the purposeful way he walks as he strides toward Luca, or maybe it’s the stoic expression on his face as he leans in to speak to the older man.

My heart drops.

Fuck.

CHAPTER 8

MY FOOTSTEPS SLOW, and I can feel Theo tense beside me. He’s noticed the man talking to Luca too.

“What do we do?” I whisper, my skin prickling with nerves.

“Get to Marcus and Ry. Luca’s vicious, but he’s careful about violence on his own turf. It’s part of the reason he’s managed to amass as much power as he has without getting arrested.”

Theo’s voice is a thousand times calmer than I feel, but his fingers dig into my back as he urges me forward. Ryland and Marcus break away from Victoria to meet us, but as we reach them, a voice booms over the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here tonight.”

I look up to see Luca standing on the small platform at one end of the room, a microphone in his hand. He’s standing in the same spot where he congratulated Victoria and Marcus on their engagement last time, and my stomach turns over as dread unfurls inside me.

What the fuck is he about to say?

“I’m grateful that so many of you were able to attend,” Luca continues, his voice smooth and deep. “As many of you know, I’ve been considering retirement for some time now, and I admit, these gatherings help me see who is doing well in our fair city. Who may be worthy of doing even better.” He pauses, seeming to consider his next words. “Unfortunately, there are three people who, although once under consideration, have fallen out of the running.”

My breath stops as he looks toward me and the men.

Fuck, no.

He found out. I don’t know how he found out, but he knows we know.

And now he’s going to unleash hell.

“Marcus Constantine, Theo Harrington, and Ryland Bennett,” Luca intones, his voice grave. “I had such high hopes for all three of you. But I’m afraid none of you bear the mark of a true leader. You cannot be trusted, and trust is the foundation of every relationship. Mors tua, vita mea.”

I don’t know what the last words mean, but he speaks them solemnly. Then he turns to survey the rest of the crowd, all of whom have gone deathly silent. “Those of you who are still under consideration—and I believe you know who you are—will receive my true gratitude if you are able to prove your loyalty.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Victoria stiffen, her gaze darting around the room. Michael Saviano reacts to Luca’s words too. I can’t see his face well from where I’m standing, but his body language tells me plenty.

He looks like he’s ready for a fucking fight.

Luca, in contrast, appears utterly relaxed and at ease as he surveys the crowd once more. Then, with a quiet nod, he replaces the microphone in the stand and steps down from the small platform.

A low hum of conversation builds slowly around us, but something about it feels… off. Forced. Like no one really wants to be talking, but they’re afraid to let the silence linger too long.

“What just happened?” I whisper, my throat tight.

I can’t tell if I should be glad or terrified that Luca didn’t just have his guards haul us away, or shoot us dead where we stand.

“What happened is we got fucked.” Theo curses under his breath, speaking low. He and the other two men step closer to me, their gazes scanning the crowd around us.

Nothing has changed. Well-dressed people are still sipping expensive champagne as they gather in small groups.

But somehow, everything is different.

Before I can ask what Theo meant, Ryland elaborates. “That thing he said? Mors tua, vita mea? It’s a code. A signal. He just put out a fucking hit on us and basically told everyone in the game that they’ll win if they’re the one to carry it out.”

My stomach drops. The gun strapped to my thigh seems to burn my skin, and I wish desperately that it was in my hand.

“Why haven’t they come after us yet, then?”

As I speak, I check to see where Victoria is, half expecting her to be charging toward us with a weapon drawn.

But she’s not. She’s making her way slowly through the crowd, her movements graceful and purposeful as a predator. She glances toward us, her gaze locking with mine briefly before moving away.

“None of them will do anything on Luca’s territory. Not at his house. It’s fucking sacrosanct. That’s why he hasn’t done anything either.” Marcus slips his hand into mine, tugging me close to him as he turns toward the door we first entered from.

The other two are right beside us, still keeping a tight, protective knot around me. No one screams or shouts or makes any threatening gesture toward us as we move across the room, but the crowd parts for us in an eerie way that makes my heart beat out a panicked rhythm in my chest.

It’s like we don’t exist.

Like we’re already ghosts.

Fighting down my impulse to break into a run, I scan the room as we walk. Ryland’s parents are standing off to one side, and as we pass by them, Ryland’s father turns away.

The movement is subtle, but the message is not.

Ryland’s on his own.

All of us are.

These men’s parents all signed them up for a deadly game, insisting the risk was worth it for the good of their families—but when it comes down to it, they aren’t willing to risk themselves to protect their own damn blood.

Selfish fucking assholes.

Anger burns through me, hot and purifying. It helps me focus, helps push the panic away. We’ll get out of this somehow. We’ll survive this, if for no other reason than to come back later and kick their asses.

We’re only a few yards from the door now, and my stomach feels so tight and heavy it’s like I swallowed a brick.

“Why are we leaving?” I ask, glancing over at Marcus. His face is set in a tight mask. “You said we’re only safe as long as we’re here, right? So why go?”

“Because the longer we stay, the longer we give everyone else to prepare. To call in backup and have an ambush waiting for us. If we get out now, we’ll be on more even footing in the fight.”

His voice is clipped and hard, no emotion in it at all. It’s a stark reminder that these men have been playing this game for a long time. This situation isn’t new for him, or any of them.

Worse, maybe. But not new.

“We have the flash drive. What if we try to out Luca now? If we could turn people against him—”

“Won’t work.” Ryland pushes the door open, and we step into the hallway, moving quickly toward the front door. A few of the house staff glance our way, but no one tries to stop us. If it weren’t for the adrenaline coursing through me and the sweat slicking my palm, I could almost believe we were leaving under normal circumstances.

“We don’t know what’s on the drive yet,” Theo murmurs quietly. “It may not be the proof we need. And we don’t even know if Luca is aware we have it. I’m guessing not, or he might’ve tried harder to get it from us. But if we raise hell, he’ll definitely figure it out.”

“The priority right now is getting out of here. Getting you out of here.” Marcus’s grip on my hand tightens, and for the first time since Luca’s announcement, I hear a hint of emotion in his voice.

Fear.

Not for himself. For me.

It ramps up the fear clawing inside my own chest, the horrific feeling that the men I love are about to die in front of me.

I pick up my pace, and our footsteps ring loudly on the polished floor as we reach the front door. We step out into the quiet, cool night, and goose bumps rise on my skin.

“There.” Ryland jerks his head toward one side of the property, where cars are lined up in orderly rows.

We don’t wait for the valet to bring Theo’s around. Instead, he grabs his keys from the valet stand and we move toward the vehicle, finally breaking into a run as we near it.

Marcus practically shoves me into the back passenger seat before taking the seat up front next to Theo. Ryland climbs into the back with me, slamming his door shut as Theo guns the engine and peels out.

Both Ryland and Marcus suddenly have weapons in their hands, and I don’t know if they were armed beneath their suit jackets or if the guns were stashed in the car. It doesn’t really matter.

As Theo turns onto the street leading away from Luca’s house, I dig beneath the layers of my skirt, fighting against the centrifugal force as he whips the car around with dangerous speed.

My hand closes around the warm metal of the gun’s grip, and I pull it from the small holster. Just as I do, headlights flash brightly from behind us, lighting up the interior of the car.

“Fuck!”

Theo’s curse is barely out of his mouth before someone rams us from behind, making the car jerk forward. I don’t have a seatbelt on, and the force of the impact nearly sends me sliding off the seat. I scramble to right myself as Marcus fires out the window at the car behind us.

I can hear the metallic pings of bullets striking the other car’s frame, and the headlight beams fade in intensity a little as it backs off. A second later, more gunshots ring out, from the pursuing vehicle this time.

“Who the fuck is it?” Ryland shouts, grabbing the back of my neck roughly and forcing my head down.

“Dunno.” Theo curses again, turning the wheel sharply and making the car zig-zag wildly. “Maybe Michael. Cocksucker.”

The car jerks as whoever it is rams us again, and this time, bullets shatter the back window. Marcus whips around in his seat, firing through the now-open space. Glass cracks, and although I don’t know if he broke the windshield, I hope he at least obstructed their visibility. The roads are dark, not very well lit farther out of the city like this, and if we can blind them, maybe we can run them off the road.

But before I even have a chance to feel hopeful about that prospect, another engine revs behind us, its roar joining the first.

Gunshots ring out, and I feel a sickeningly familiar dropping sensation as one side of the car tilts downward.

Someone just shot out our tire.

CHAPTER 9

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

Theo cranks the wheel, trying to regain stability as we fishtail wildly.

Flashes of déjà vu almost blind me as I force my head up, ignoring the pressure of Ryland’s hand on my neck.

I know he’s trying to protect me, but I have to see. I have to help.

Another car has joined the one behind us.

They take up both lanes of the two-lane road we’re on, crowding us as Theo guns the engine again.

Our car is shaking, jerking every time the shredded tire rotates, and I know it’s only a matter of time before Theo loses control, especially at this speed.

I don’t know where we are. It’s not a part of Halston I recognize, and I think Theo drove away from the city instead of toward it in our attempt to escape. The road we’re on is narrow and straight, crisscrossed by other small roads.

Keeping my head low, I turn around in my seat and fire out the back window toward the car that’s behind us and slightly to one side. It’s Gabriel, I think, the other player with mafia ties. I wonder if the two men struck some sort of bargain to try to take us out together.

My shots hit the passenger side mirror, leaving it dangling by a cable. Bright bursts of light flash in the darkness as our pursuers fire again, falling back a little to get a better shot at our tires.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Theo’s curses furiously as the left side of the car dips this time. We’ve lost both our back tires, and I can feel the drag. Despite the revving roar of the engine, our speed slows.

With a feral scream, I squeeze the trigger two more times, then duck as the cars behind us return fire.

“Look for a side street,” Marcus barks at Theo, firing off another round. “We need to get off this drag before they box us in.”

A bullet whizzes through the broken back window before Theo can answer, clipping his arm. He lets out a grunt of pain, and the car jerks sideways as he loses his tight grip on the wheel for a second.

“Theo?” I scream over the chaos around me.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Fuck!”

Just ahead of us, another street intersects the one we’re on. It looms into view too late for Theo to make the turn, but as we fly past it, another car engine revs.

A dark sedan barrels out of the darkness, T-boning the two cars that are following us. Metal screeches as the two cars sideswipe each other, pressed together by the force of the third car’s assault.

They skid sideways, and one of them is forced off the road entirely, nearly rolling as it hits the small ditch that runs along the road’s shoulder. The other ends up half on and half off the road, and the silver car comes to a stop in the middle of the road, its hood bent and contorted.

Sudden silence falls as the roar of engines fades and the pop, pop, pop of gunshots dies away. Theo screeches to a stop, glancing over his shoulder at the wreck behind us.

“What the fuck?”

“Whoever that was, were they aiming for us?” I ask, my voice sounding thin and strained.

“I dunno.” He shoves open his door. “But we need their car. The hood’s crunched, but it’s got four working tires.”

I open my door too, scrambling out along with the men. Theo pops the trunk, and Marcus grabs a laptop bag out of it, not even bothering to shut it again. The expensive fabric of my dress drags on the dirty asphalt, but I pay no attention as we all run back toward the site of the crash.

Groans rise up from the car that was directly hit by the silver one, and a second later, the barrel of a gun pokes out through the smashed up window. Several shots ring out, and a bullet whizzes by my head.

“Fuck! Get down!”

Marcus doesn’t take his own advice, racing ahead of us with his arm braced straight out, firing several shots toward the vehicle and forcing whoever’s inside to duck out of sight.

The silver car is in the middle of the road where it stopped after colliding with the other two. Theo was right. The hood is banged up, but I hope like hell it’s still drivable.

With Marcus and Ryland covering us, we reach it quickly. Theo yanks the door open and grunts.

“Dominic Roth. Son of a bitch.”

The dark-haired man is slumped over the wheel, blood trickling down the side of his face. I don’t know if he’s alive, and I honestly don’t care right now. All I care about is getting the fuck out of here. More shots are flying toward us, making me certain that the occupants of both other cars survived the crash.

Others will be coming. Victoria and Adrian are still out there, and neither of them will be sitting this fight out. We may have lost them in the chase, but they’ll do whatever they can to track us down.

Theo seems to be of the same mind I am, because he doesn’t even check for a pulse. He just shoves Dominic’s limp body over onto the passenger seat, then gets behind the wheel.

Ryland wrenches open the back passenger door and helps me inside before he and Marcus slide in too. Marcus rolls down the window and fires another shot at the crashed vehicles as Theo whips our stolen car around and heads down the side street it emerged from.

The engine whines pitifully as he lays on the gas, but even though wisps of smoke rise from beneath the crumpled hood, the car doesn’t give out. He leaves the headlights off, turning onto another street, then another, until I have no fucking idea which direction we’re driving. I trust that he does though, leaving the navigation to him as I turn to look out the back window.

Little cuts pepper my skin from the shards of glass that littered Theo’s back seat, but I barely feel the sting. The back window of this car is intact, and I peer out onto the dimly lit street behind us.

“There’s no one.” I let out a shaky breath. “We lost them.”

Even if the other two cars are still drivable, which is a possibility, they’re not behind us now. Hopefully we’ll get enough of a lead that they won’t be able to follow us.

“You still got the drive?” Marcus asks, his eyes glinting in the darkness as he looks over at me.

Releasing my death-grip on the gun in my hand, I rest it on the seat and dig into the folds of my dress, closing my fingers around the small metallic drive. “Yes.”

“Good.” He nods sharply. “Now we just have to hope whatever’s on that thing is worth the shit we just got ourselves into. Theo?”

“Yeah. Headed there now.”

Theo’s response from the front comes so quickly that it’s like the two men had an entire conversation without words. I don’t know what Marcus’s prompt meant, but obviously his friend does.

They work well together, all three of them. It’s probably the only reason they’re all still alive.

“We’ll head to a safe house.” Marcus shakes his head as he catches my raised eyebrows. “Not the same one we took you to before. A different spot. Should be secure, at least for now. We’ve never used it before, so it should be hard to track down.”

“We’re gonna run out of fucking safe houses,” Ryland comments grimly. “That’s the last one I’d feel confident going to. The house on Whitmore is probably compromised.”

Marcus nods, sliding the magazine out of his gun and replacing it with a sharp slap. “Agreed.”

My gaze drifts up to the front passenger seat, where Dominic is sprawled awkwardly, his head lolling against the window. More blood coats his face, staining the white collar of his shirt.

“Did he do that on purpose?” I ask, my brows pinching together. “Help us?”

“Dunno.” Theo cuts a glance his way. “For all we know, the fucker was trying to hit us and just missed. If he’s dead, we’ll deal with the body. If he’s alive, maybe he can tell us what the fuck he was doing.”

I lean forward and reach around the back of the front passenger seat. When I press my fingers to Dominic’s neck, they slide over his skin, slick with blood. But I feel a flutter of movement in his neck.

“He’s not dead, I don’t think.”

“Great.” Theo sounds entirely unenthusiastic.

I withdraw my hand quickly, wiping off my fingers on the expensive-looking leather of the seat. A shiver runs down my spine, and it’s not just because of the blood.

I’m not sure I like the idea of Dominic helping us. I don’t like the idea of owing him anything.

It takes us almost an hour to reach the safe house, and I think it’s partly because Theo’s taking a route that keeps us off major roads. When we finally pull up a long drive, I let out a shaky breath.

Theo pulls into the small garage off the side of the house, and when he cuts the engine, Ryland shoves open his door. I open mine, grabbing my gun again before sliding out with Marcus right behind me. He and Ryland pull Dom from the front, carrying his limp body between them as Theo unlocks the door to the house.

The inside reminds me a lot of the other safe house they took me to. Sparse and mostly empty, the air stale and too-still. The living room has some furniture that looks like it probably came with the house—a large couch and beat up coffee table sit in the middle of the space with an overstuffed easy chair off to one side. A massive old bookcase sits against one wall, bare of books.

Marcus and Ryland haul Dom’s body down the hall toward one of the rooms at the back of the house. The mattress is bare, but they don’t seem concerned about getting blood on it as they lay him out on the bed.

They step back as Theo and I step forward, and all four of us gather close to the rickety bed, staring down at the man on top of it.

“Well.” Theo lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “This is completely fucked.”

CHAPTER 10

FUCKED IS RIGHT.

We’re supposed to be back at Theo’s house right now.

We’re supposed to be celebrating.

We’re supposed to be one step closer to taking Luca down.

Instead, we’re on the run, targeted by every other player in this fucked up game, and staring down at the beat-to-shit body of a man who once kidnapped me.

“Jesus,” I mutter, shaking my head.

Then a sudden thought occurs to me, and I stiffen. Victoria mentioned using a GPS tracker to find me before. Something Carson slipped into my clothes or my shoes.

I don’t know how the fuck anyone could’ve gotten a tracker onto me or my men between when we arrived at Luca’s place and now. No one anticipated the night would end up like this, not even the Viper himself. So it seems unlikely.

But still…

“Trackers,” I say, glancing up at Ryland, who stands beside me. “We should check him for any kind of GPS tracker or bug. And ourselves too, just to be safe.”

“Yeah.” He nods, leaning over the bed and patting Dominic down. He rips his shirt open, checking to make sure he doesn’t have anything taped to his torso, then pats down both legs and tugs his shiny black shoes off. He hands them over to Theo. “Should be a knife in the kitchen.”

“On it.”

Theo takes the shoes and disappears, and I kick my own shoes off, pulling the flash drive and connector out of my dress’s hidden pockets before smoothing my hands over the fabric.

My search doesn’t yield anything, and neither does Ryland’s. We should be clean, but I still can’t shake the nagging worry that someone will manage to track us anyway.

“Nothing,” Theo announces when he returns a moment later. He drops Dom’s shoes on the floor beside the bed. The soles have been torn out, rendering them basically useless.

“Should we kill him?” Ryland’s voice is hard, and although it’s phrased as a question, it almost sounds more like a statement. Like he’s already made up his mind.

I grit my teeth, my stomach clenching. “No.”

All three of the men glance at me. Marcus doesn’t exactly look surprised, but Theo’s eyebrows rise a little.

My lips feel dry, and I dart my tongue out to wet them before I speak again. “He saved our lives. I don’t know why he did it, or if he even meant to. But we should at least find out if he did before we kill him. I don’t like the idea of killing him while a debt is owed. I don’t want that hanging over me, forever unpayable.”

Ryland’s hazel eyes are hard as he catches my gaze. “He kidnapped you. Tried to kill you. I’d say this makes you fucking even.”

“I know.” I swallow, shoving down the nausea that turns my stomach. I fucking hate all of this. “But I still think we should wait.”

Ryland’s lips press together. I can practically see the conflicting impulses raging inside him—the urge to give me what I want fighting against the urge to end anyone who threatens me.

I lay my hand on his arm, looking up into his eyes. “If it comes down to it, if we find out he was trying to hit us instead of them, I’ll kill him myself.”

He sighs, his body relaxing slightly under my touch. Then he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. “You’re a better fucking person than I am, Ayla.”

“Not better,” I murmur as he draws away. “Not by a long shot.”

Dumber, maybe.

But despite the situation Luca has forced us into, despite the constant refrain of “kill or be killed,” I can’t quite bring myself to murder a man in cold blood. I couldn’t even pull the trigger on the man who raped me as a child, although I’m hardly sorry Jordan is dead.

Ryland kisses me again, and I lean toward him as we break apart, chasing the feeling of his lips against mine.

“All right.” Marcus glances from Theo to Ryland, and when they both meet his gaze, he nods. “He’ll live. For now.”

He strides from the room and returns a moment later with a roll of duct tape. He uses it to bind Dominic’s hands and feet together. Then he pushes the man’s dark, blood-matted hair away from his face. “Gash on his forehead, and a nasty fucking lump. Probably split the skin when he hit his head. You find any other injuries, Ryland?”

“No.”

Leaving the trussed-up man on the bed, Marcus steps back and rests a hand on my lower back, steering me from the bedroom. “Come on, angel. I think there’s a bottle of whiskey in this house somewhere.”

He leads me into the living room, and I sink onto the couch, grateful to give my shaky legs a little reprieve. I’ve been standing upright by sheer force of will, and even that is starting to fade. Hiking the fabric of my dress up a little, I reach beneath the skirt and undo the thigh holster, setting it and the gun on the coffee table in front of me.

Marcus goes looking for the whiskey, and when Theo sits down next to me, I turn to face him. “How’s your arm?”

He grimaces. “Hurts, but it’s nothing that’ll kill me. We’ve got a first aid kit around here somewhere.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “You wanna nurse me back to health?”

I purse my lips to keep from smiling. He’s the only person I know who could make that joke right now and actually make me laugh.

“Yeah, I could play nurse. Where’s the kit?”

“I’ve got it.” Marcus re-enters the room, a bottle of amber liquid in one hand and a small box in the other.

He sets the box down on the worn coffee table and uncaps the booze, taking a deep drink before passing it to me. I take a drink too, letting the whiskey burn down my throat. It’s not tequila, but I’m not in a position to be picky.

With the alcohol warming my stomach, I help Theo peel his jacket off, then loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. His arm is stained red, but the bleeding from the wound already looks like it’s slowing down.

Several inches below it is the lingering scar from the last time a bullet clipped his arm, when he and the others rescued me from the house where Carson and Dominic were keeping me.

“Are you trying to start a punch card or something?” I quip, running my fingertips over his old scar. My joke falls flat. Nothing about this is remotely funny, but Theo grins at me anyway.

As I start to clean the area where the bullet grazed him, Ryland and Marcus settle in beside us, Ryland perching on the arm of the couch and Marcus on Theo’s other side.

“We may still be better off now than we were at the beginning of the night,” Marcus says slowly, gripping the bottle and taking another drink. “If we’re able to find evidence on that drive that ties Luca to the Viper. What he did tonight was already risky, and I’m sure it’s got people questioning what the fuck is going on. As long as everyone still thinks the game is legit, they won’t question it. But if we can cast doubt on that, it’ll make his actions at the party seem pretty fucking suspect.”

“It’ll make it look like what it was,” Ryland adds. “An attempt to discredit us and silence us, using other people to do his dirty work.”

I glance up from my work on Theo’s arm. “So we need to start trying to sort through and decrypt everything we got immediately.” My brows knit. “Is Zee ready to jump on unlocking the files?”

“Should be.” Marcus passes the bottle to Theo. “I’ll transfer the files to him and let him get to work trying to crack them, and I’ll have him send us what he’s got as soon as he’s got it.”

“Can we trust him with that?”

Marcus shrugs. “As much as we can trust anyone. So, not at all. But Zee’s already on Luca’s shit list, so he’s got no reason to help him, and no reason to think Luca wouldn’t kill him first if he even tried. That, combined with what we’re paying him, makes him as safe a bet as any.”

“How long do you think it will take him?” I ask.

“Depends on how heavily encrypted the files are. If he can do it at all, I’m guessing it won’t be fast.”

“We need to have him scrub security footage along our route here too,” Ryland puts in. “Dom’s car is easy to fucking spot. Have him replace any feeds that caught us so no one can track us down that way.”

I grimace as I press a piece of gauze over the gash on Theo’s arm and secure it with tape. I never imagined it would be this hard to disappear until I tried to do it.

Ironic that my little brother somehow managed to disappear without a trace, while we’re just looking to prolong the amount of time it takes for someone to find us.

Because they will find us.

Gabriel. Michael. Victoria. Even Adrian.

They’re all smart, savvy, and dangerous. Luca has made us the prize in this fucking game, and every single one of them is determined to win.

As I secure the last piece of tape on Theo’s arm, a low groan rises up from the bedroom. I glance down the hall, then press to my feet. “I’ll go deal with Dominic.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Ryland makes a move to follow, but I wave him off. “It’s fine. I can handle him. Do whatever you need to do.”

I know there’s plenty to be done, all of it in a desperate attempt to keep us all alive. The least I can do is deal with the man tied up on the bed while the others take care of security and get in touch with Zee.

Before Ryland can argue, I draw the flash drive out of my dress pocket and hand it over to Marcus.

Then I pick up the first aid kit and head down the hall.

CHAPTER 11

WHEN I STEP into the bedroom, I find Dominic trying to sit up.

“Don’t.”

I cross to him and push him back down, and to my surprise, he does what I tell him to. He must still be groggy as fuck.

The lump on his head looks worse now. It’s grown in size and turned an ugly purple color, and it brings back unpleasant memories of my own head wound. The concussion I got when Marcus fell on top of me after Carson shot him.

As I think of Dominic’s role in all of that, my jaw clenches. No matter what Ryland says about me being a good person, I’m not a fucking saint. Part of me wants to walk back into the living room, grab my gun, and come back to put a bullet between Dom’s eyes.

The man in front of me lets out a low, pitiful groan, blinking slowly as he looks around the room and then down at himself.

“What happened to my shirt?”

I glance at his unbuttoned dress shirt, stained red with blood. “We had to make sure you weren’t bugged. That you didn’t have a tracker on you.”

He glances over at me, a confused look on his face, and I snort.

“Don’t look so fucking shocked. You put one on me when you kidnapped me, so it’s not that big of a stretch to think you might have one on you.”

He blinks again, his eyelids dragging up and down. His pupils are huge, overtaking the lighter color of his irises, and I know from personal experience how out of it he probably feels.

“I really am sorry,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

The tension in my shoulders doesn’t ease, and my voice is hard when I speak. “Yeah, you mentioned that already. But I don’t really give a fuck. ‘Sorry’ isn’t in short supply. That part is easy. People actually making up for what they did? Doing better? That’s what’s fucking rare.”

Confident that he’s in no position to even struggle against his bonds, much less break them, I sit on the edge of the bed and set down the first aid kit. I grab some disinfecting wipes and start to clean the skin around his goose egg, ignoring the way he winces at my touch.

“Do you remember what happened?” I ask.

He peers up at me through barely cracked eyes. I think he’s having a hard time keeping them open, and I wonder how long he’ll last before he passes out again. “Tonight? Yeah, I remember?”

“Good. Then tell me what the fuck you were doing.”

“What?” His brows pull together a little.

“What were you doing? Why did you hit Michael’s car? Was it an accident?”

He shakes his head slightly, grimacing at the movement. “No.”

I draw my hand back, dropping the blood-stained wipe on the mattress. “Then what the fuck is your angle? What’s your game? Did you not get the fucking hint Luca dropped?”

Dominic groans. The sound is both pained and exhausted, but when he looks up at me again, his eyes are a little sharper than before. “Yeah, I got it. That’s why I did what I did.”

“Trying to take Michael and Gabriel out so you could come after us yourself?”

“No.” He winces, lifting his head a little. “I was trying to help you.”

“Why?” My voice is hard as steel.

Dominic drops his head back down to the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t like how he changed the game. It’s not fucking right. He holds all the strings, and the rest of us just dance.” His upper lip curls. “The whole reason someone sent him my adoption papers was to try to get me booted from the game. Paint a target on my back. If Luca changes the rules, there isn’t shit I can do about it. And he’s going to. I fucking know he is. So I figured if I’m dead anyway, I should at least team up with the other dead men walking.” He glances sidelong at me. “And woman. Sorry.”

It strikes me as a little laughable that that’s the part he’s apologizing for. He basically just said he doesn’t expect any of us to live through this.

Still, the selfishness of his motivations makes me almost believe him. If he’d tried to convince me that he helped us out of the goodness of his heart, I’d have told him to go sit on his own dick. But if he thought he was about to become a target anyway, it sort of makes sense that he’d go for the safety in numbers.

He’s already shown himself to be a fucking follower, and severely lacking in backbone too.

“You know you just wrote your own fucking ticket though, right?” I press, grabbing another wipe and starting to clean his wound again. “You don’t know Luca was going to evict you from the game. But once he finds out you helped us? Then you’re as good as dead, just like we are. So why take that risk?”

Dominic’s eyes fly open, his gaze finding mine with surprising intensity. “Because I’m done being their fucking pawn. Luca’s. My parents’. I’m fucking done.”

There’s something in his voice that reminds me of the day he barged into Theo’s house. A bone-deep pain. A wildness.

“They finally admitted it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling again, his jaw clenching. “When the adoption papers got sent out, it wasn’t like there was a lot they could do to deny it. I made them tell me every-fucking-thing.”

He licks his lips, his tongue darting over the small streaks of dried blood that cling to his skin.

“They had a kid once. Their own kid, their flesh and blood. He died when he was three. And instead of fucking mourning him like a normal goddamn family, they decided to replace him. With me. They adopted me, gave me his name, gave me his bedroom and his clothes and his fucking toys. They stole my life and gave me his instead.”

My hand freezes, hovering over his forehead. It takes me a couple seconds to truly process what he’s saying, and when I do, my brows drop.

Jesus. That’s so fucked up.

“Why?”

I don’t want to feel sorry for Dominic. I’ve made it a point not to, even as I clean the gash on his forehead. But fucking hell, I didn’t realize people could be so insane.

“Why do you think?” Dominic asks dully, not looking at me. “For the same reason anyone in this world does anything. Power. My mom—Lillian—couldn’t have any more kids. And they needed an heir. They already had the perfect child, so they found a way to keep that illusion.”

I shake my head, balling up the bloody wipe and dropping it next to the first one. I’ve never met his parents, but I have a feeling if I did, they’d look perfectly normal. Not like two psychopaths at all.

But that’s what they are. Clearly.

“They bought me,” Dom mutters darkly. “They made me their fucking property, and they used me like a pawn.” His lips press together. “So much shit finally made sense after I learned the truth. My dad used to hit me if I ever said or did anything that wasn’t ‘right.’ Anything that didn’t fit exactly what they taught me. They were teaching me how to fill the shoes of their dead kid. They were fucking training me.”

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“I had this stuffed animal called LaLa when I was little. It’s like my earliest memory. My mom took it away and fucking burned it. I never understood why. But now I do. Because it was mine. Not her son’s. It was from my old life, and she couldn’t let me have it.”

He makes a disgusted noise low in his throat, his eyelids drooping again. He seems exhausted by his tirade, but I feel like he just injected adrenaline right into my heart. It seems to have stopped beating, or maybe it’s beating too fast. Blood is pounding so hard in my ears that it’s making me dizzy.

LaLa.

Oh, fuck.

Jesus fuck. No.

I dreamed that name. I dreamed of a little boy calling out to me by that name, his voice scared and desperate.

There’s no fucking way that boy was Dominic. It can’t be. I don’t want it to be.

But how the hell would he pull that odd name otherwise? The only person I ever mentioned it to was Theo, the night I woke up from the dream, jerking awake from the terrifying visions.

My skin feels cold and too tight. Numb and prickly at the same time. I have the vague recognition that this is what shock feels like, but I can’t even process that thought properly.

I just know I have to get out of here. I can’t be in this room with the man with dark, blood-matted hair. The man whose face I despise, who kidnapped me and held me hostage. The man I seriously contemplated killing not that long ago.

Pressing away from the mattress, I rise on shaky legs, abandoning the first aid kit as I turn and stride toward the door.

I think Dominic says something to me, but I can’t hear it. My hand grips the doorframe tightly, fingers digging into the wood to keep me upright, and when I step into the hall, I drag the door closed behind me.

Blocking out the truth I don’t want to see.

CHAPTER 12

AS THE DOOR clicks softly shut behind me, something seems to snap in my chest.

A rush of emotions surges through me, overriding the numbness of my shock. Tears burn my eyes, and I gasp for breath as I stumble blindly down the hall, running my hand along the smooth plaster of the wall.

I’ve spent years trying to find my brother, searching desperately for him, spending money I didn’t have on low-rent detectives. Doing whatever was in my means to try to find him.

And this is who he turned out to be?

The man who kidnapped me? The guy who pulled a fucking gun on me, who hunted me and the men down and shot at us after our car crashed?

Marcus is alive, but that’s only because of blind luck. Because of Victoria’s scheming and quick action. Dom could’ve been responsible for his death.

A gasping sob falls from my lips, a rush of fury filling me.

If Marcus had died, I would kill Dominic, brother or not.

I feel like all the things bouncing around in my chest are about to crack my ribs. It’s too fucking much. I need air. I need—

I slam into a broad, shirtless chest, and warm hands settle on my upper arms.

“Hey, Rose? You okay?”

Theo’s concerned blue-green eyes gaze up at me, and I blink at him as if I’ve never seen him before in my life. The line between his brows deepens, and he drops his head a little.

“What happened? Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

The word comes out automatically. I’m not all right, but I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to say the truth out loud. I want to bury it in the backyard with a shovel and let it die a slow death.

The look on Theo’s face tells me that the single, raspy word didn’t convince him at all. He opens his mouth to say something else, but I tug out of his grip and stumble toward the open door at the end of the hall.

It’s a small bathroom, as cramped and sparse as the rest of the house.

Stepping inside, I push the door shut behind me, but a heavy hand blocks it from closing. Theo steps in after me, his face a mask of concern.

“What the hell is it, Rose? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

That last word pokes at some raw wound inside me. That’s exactly what I feel like. Like I’ve seen a ghost. An echo of a past that no longer exists.

Bracing my hand on the edge of the sink, I drop my head, breathing in deeply as I try to get some kind of handle on myself. I feel the warmth of Theo’s skin before our bodies even touch. He comes to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders and offering silent comfort as I inhale and exhale.

When I’m a little calmer, he shifts his grip, sliding his hands down and wrapping them around my upper torso, pressing my back to his chest.

He meets my gaze in the streaked and cloudy mirror, worry still darkening his features.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.”

It’s a simple plea, heartfelt and quiet. I still don’t want to say anything, but the earnestness in his voice tugs at me. I remember the night he came to find me upstairs after we ran into Jordan at Saraven. He was so sweet and gentle, so careful with me.

This man will never hurt me.

The certainty that washes through me at the thought settles my racing heart a little. In this world of liars and manipulators, of vicious and senseless cruelty, real trust is the most priceless thing there is.

And Theo has earned my trust over and over again.

I hold his gaze in the mirror for a second, gathering the words on my tongue. Then I turn in his arms, coming face-to-face with him as the fabric of my dress swishes around my legs.

“Dominic…” I lick my lips, trying to clear away the bitterness that coats the word. “He told us he was adopted. That day he came to the house. He found out because someone sent the papers to Luca.”

“Yeah.” Theo nods, watching me curiously. “I remember.”

“I don’t know if he knew then or if he found out later, but it was more than just a simple adoption. He always thought he was his parent’s natural son because that’s what they told him.”

Theo nods again, his lips pulling to one side. “They can’t be the first people to ever lie to their kids about that. It’s shitty, but—”

“They had a son before him,” I say, cutting him off. I need to get this out before my throat closes up entirely. “They had a son, and he died, and they adopted Dominic and gave him their dead child’s name. They raised him to fill the shoes of their own dead kid. They tried to erase his old life, to wipe it out.” My pitch is rising, my words growing more strained. “He had a stuffed animal, something from his childhood, and he… he said it was named LaLa.”

Theo blinks at me. Then his eyes widen suddenly, shock overtaking his features. “Holy fuck.”

I nod, the movement jerky.

His mouth opens and closes once, then he makes a quiet scoffing noise. “No. No fucking way. You don’t think…?”

“I don’t know.”

Even as I speak the words, I can feel the lie in them. I’ve been trying to deny it ever since Dominic said the name, but the truth is, I do know. He’s my brother. It would take a DNA test to confirm it, and I could cling to the hope that this is all just an insane coincidence until I see tangible proof.

But it doesn’t change the certainty that sits heavy in my chest.

He’s my brother.

“Jesus.” Theo blows out a breath, his grip on me tightening a little. “Motherfucker. That guy?”

I almost laugh. Theo really is the only person who can make me laugh when everything else in me feels like crying.

“Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction,” I say, making an attempt at a smile.

“Fuck.” His lips curl back, and he looks a little disgusted.

I know how he feels.

Then he cocks his head, his eyes narrowing. His fingertips trace up and down my spine as he thinks for a long moment. When he looks down at me again, he sighs.

“Honestly, it kinda makes sense. What his parents did, I mean. Not that it makes it in any way okay. But you’ve seen our parents. Ry’s and Marcus’s, anyway. It took us longer to fully recognize it than it should have, but our parents used all of us. They treated us like pieces on a chess board. Dominic’s parents just took it to a whole new extreme. They raised him to be a tool, so maybe that explains why he’s such a… well, a tool.”

This time, I do snort a laugh. It’s the most apt description of Dominic I’ve ever heard.

Theo grins, looking pleased that he managed to pull me from the depths of my emotional breakdown. Then his face grows serious.

“This is insane, Rose. And I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of shit you’re feeling right now. But just remember that Dominic was raised by assholes. He’s a product of his upbringing. If he’d had a different life, if he’d still had you, he could’ve been a different person. A better person. Hell, the only reason Ry, Marcus, and I aren’t completely fucked up is because we found each other. We had each other to lean on.”

He reaches up to brush a lock of hair behind my ear. I still have the remnants of the simple updo I pulled it into earlier, but it looks like a rat’s been crawling around in it now.

“They took him away from you, and that’s not your fault. Who he turned into isn’t your fault either.” He grimaces. “And maybe, in a small way, it’s not entirely his fault either.”

My heart squeezes tightly, and I blink as new tears burn my eyes. “Are you trying to help me see the good in Dominic?”

Theo looks a little horrified at the suggestion, then wrinkles his nose, chuckling lightly. “Yeah, maybe I am. Mostly, I’m just trying to make you not hurt.” His palm cups my cheek as tenderness fills his expression. “I wish I could do that for you, Rose.”

He can’t. No one can.

But what Theo does for me is better than that. It’s better than taking the pain away.

He makes me believe in hope and love despite the pain. He helps me find happiness in the midst of hurt, and the brilliant rush of emotion makes my knees wobble.

Reaching up, I capture his hand with mine, pinning it to my cheek as my own smaller one molds over his. “I love you, Theo.”

His eyes widen, a look of surprise passing over his face. I expect him to grin at me, flashing his teeth and his dimples in his signature gorgeous smile. But instead, his face grows more intense than I’ve ever seen it.

He looks awed.

Almost reverent.

“I love you too, Rose.” He swallows. “This isn’t how I imagined telling you. I wanted to… I don’t know, make a production out of it. Make the moment perfect.” His other arm pulls me closer, and I can feel the thud of his heartbeat against my chest. “But this feels pretty fuckin’ perfect to me.”

“Yeah?” I whisper, letting go of his hand to wrap my arm around his neck, rising up onto my tiptoes to press myself more fully against him. My heart is beating hard too, matching the rhythm of his. “In a safe house bathroom? On the run from the most dangerous crime lord in Halston? With my asshole brother down the hall?”

Now Theo grins, and it’s the most pure, joyful thing I’ve ever seen. “I’m with you, aren’t I? That makes it perfect to me. No matter where we are.”

Fucking hell.

I don’t know how he always knows the perfect thing to say, but his words seem to crack something open in my chest, flooding my body with warmth. I rise up higher on my toes, closing the last inch of space between us as I press my lips to his.

Theo kisses me back, and the connection of our lips feels like a continuation of the words we just spoke. I can feel his love in the way both of his arms slide around me, holding me close like the most precious object in the universe. I can feel it in the way his tongue slides against mine, and I can hear it in the small groan that passes from his mouth to mine.

He loves me.

And I love him.

It’s almost comical that we chose this moment to say it, considering I’ve known it for so much longer than this. Maybe I’ve known it since the first time I kissed him in that alley.

It feels a little like we traded parts of our souls that day and have held on to those pieces of each other ever since.

Theo’s kiss grows in intensity, and I match him stroke for stroke. I nip at his bottom lip, pressing harder against him until he gives me what I want and picks me up. Setting me on the edge of the sink, he shoves the skirt of my dress up, bunching it high on my thighs and clearing space for him to step between my legs.

I toe my shoes off, and they clatter to the floor as I wrap my legs around him, digging my heels into his firm ass to pull him closer.

“Fuck, Rose,” he grunts, and I can hear the conflict in his voice.

This probably isn’t the time or place to be doing this. But then again, like he said, maybe it’s perfect.

We’re both still alive, and I honestly don’t know how much longer that will be true. And as long as we’re still alive, I’m going to show this man how much I love him.

I break away from his kiss, tightening my legs around him until the hard bulge of his cock presses against my center. I grind against him a little, making his eyelids droop, and my fingers slide through the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Please, Theo. I need you. We can be quick. I’ll be quiet. Please.”

He groans, his head tilting back as he pulses his hips against mine. When he looks back down at me, he palms the back of my head and brings me in for another kiss.

He kisses me like he doesn’t want me to be quiet, and I reward him by immediately breaking my word, moaning loudly into his mouth. One hand stays on the back of my head, but the other moves hungrily over my body, sliding over the expensive fabric of my dress before dipping beneath the neckline to toy with my nipples.

I yelp at the shock of sensation when he pinches one, then kiss him harder as pleasure pours through my body like melted chocolate.

We’re grinding against each other, our bodies rocking to create more friction, and I finally let go of his hair to slide my hand down to the waistband of his pants. He’s still shirtless from when I dressed his wound earlier, and I love the feel of the warm skin of his abs beneath my fingertips.

Without even bothering with the button and zipper, I shove my hand down his pants and find him hot and hard, pulsing against my fingertips. I fist his cock, dragging my hand up and down, and he curses into our kiss, pinching my nipple again.

“You’re fucking killing me, Rose,” he groans. “I love you so goddamn much.”

I want to hear him say that again, so I reach lower and cup his balls, giving a light squeeze that makes him grunt.

He drops his face to the crook of my neck, muttering words of praise and worship, and when he can’t take it anymore, he reaches down and undoes his own pants, shoving them down along with his boxers. He pulls me off the sink counter and sets me on my feet long enough to unzip my dress, and as the fabric billows to the floor, he pulls my panties over my hips, letting them drop too. When I’m completely naked, he picks me up again, depositing me back on the sink’s edge.

The smooth surface is cool against my bare skin, but I can hardly feel it. All I can feel is the heat of Theo’s body, the burning inferno of our need for each other. I reach for his cock again, taking my time exploring his smooth, thick shaft, running my fingers over the two metal balls on either side of the crown.

I want to put my mouth on him. I want to tease his piercing and slide my lips down his hardness, taking him so deep he hits the back of my throat. I want to taste him and hear him moan, feel his fingers in my hair as he fights to control himself.

But more than any of that, right now, I just need to feel him inside me.

The need comes from something far beyond the arousal sparking through my veins. Something bigger than that, something bigger than sex.

I need to feel Theo. I need to lose myself in him.

Stroking him harder, I adjust the angle of his dick slightly, and he reads my intention, stepping closer to let me line him up with my entrance. The head of his cock nudges my soaked pussy, and I groan before he’s even inside me. My head falls back as he presses in slowly, filling me with such deliberate intention that it makes my limbs shake.

I feel every inch of him, and when he’s finally fully rooted inside me, I clamp my legs around him, squeezing my walls over and over as my clit throbs. He’s not even moving inside me, and I could come like this—just from gripping his thickness, from feeling the way he fills me so perfectly.

“Jesus, Rose,” Theo grunts, pressing his forehead hard to mine as he breathes heavily. “You’re gonna make me lose my fucking shit.”

I grin, squeezing him harder. He grunts and drops one hand to my hip, holding me steady as he finally draws out and thrusts back in.

“Yes, fuck!”

That wasn’t quiet either, but I’ve completely forgotten my promise by now. It’s been swallowed up by the incredible feelings rushing through me. Theo’s lips find mine again in a bruising, ravenous kiss, and that’s the only thing that keeps another loud cry from pouring out of me.

I feel drunk on this man.

High on him.

When I’m with Theo, anything feels possible. Even something as insane as hope.

“I love you, Theo,” I rasp. “I love you so fucking much.”

“Yes, baby. Fuck, yes, Rose.”

My nails dig into his shoulder as he hikes my legs higher around his waist, practically laying me back against the sink. His thrusts become harder and faster, every one forcing a gasping breath from me. My gaze finds his face as his cock pulses inside me, and I can’t look away as he throws his head back. The veins in his neck stand out as his mouth drops open, pure ecstasy washing over his features. He thrusts again, driving in hard and grinding his hips against mine as he floods me with his release.

“Theo!”

My body writhes in his grasp as the pleasure crests inside me. My pussy clenches hard around him, my breath coming in short bursts as I come too. Even as the waves of the orgasm begin to subside, I keep moving my hips against his, trying to draw out the connection, the feeling of perfect happiness and comfort.

These men and I could fuck each other to death and never be fully sated, I think blearily as Theo peppers my face with soft kisses.

He brings me back to an upright position and lifts me off the sink, his cock still buried inside me. Our chests are pressed flush together, and for a long moment, we just hold each other in an embrace so tight that not even a breath separates us.

I don’t want to let go. Not ever.

When he finally sets me back on the counter edge and pulls out of me, he seems as reluctant to separate as I am. Cum drips slowly down my inner thigh, and Theo grabs a wad of toilet paper and cleans me up gently.

He doesn’t seem able to resist crouching down and pressing a kiss to my inner thigh, then running his tongue teasingly over my clit, like he wants to taste himself on my skin.

When he finally straightens, he catches my chin in his hand and tilts my head up, kissing me deeply.

My fingertips graze over his ribs, and as we break apart, I look down at the ink that’s scrawled across his skin beneath my touch.

Aut Viam Inveniam Aut Faciam.

I will either find a way or make one.

CHAPTER 13

AFTER THEO and I emerge from the bathroom, my head feels a lot clearer. Telling a man you love him, hearing him say it back, and then fucking each other’s brains out can have that effect, I guess.

We meet up with the other two men in the living room, and I find out that while I was speaking to Dominic, Marcus transferred all the files over to their hacker.

Now we just have to wait.

According to Marcus, pretty much everything we got off Luca’s computer was protected by various levels of encryption. Zee promised he’d be able to hack at least some of it, although he isn’t sure he’ll be able to access it all.

We each doze a bit as we wait, making sure at least one person is awake at all times. Theo obsessively checks all our weapons and reloads mine. One of the guys slips into the bedroom in the early hours of the morning to check on Dominic, and I’m glad as hell that no one asked me to do it.

I don’t think I can face him yet.

I don’t want to speak to him again until I’m sure I can do it with a blank face.

Because the truth is, I haven’t decided yet if I want to tell him what I know.

“ANGEL.”

The soft voice near my ear is warm and deep, and my eyes pop open. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep that time, and consciousness comes rushing back quickly as I blink and sit up.

I’m leaning on Ryland, who seems to have just woken up as well. He presses a soft kiss to my hair as we both look at Marcus.

“Zee managed to break into some of the files,” Marcus tells us. “He just sent me the first batch.”

A burst of adrenaline shoots through my veins. “Yeah?”

He nods, settling back into the chair opposite the beat-up coffee table. “Yeah. There’s still plenty he hasn’t been able to access, but we can start going through this while he works. I’ll send some of the documents to you, you should be able to read them on your phone. We should all go through this shit—we’ll get through it faster.”

“Okay.” I sit up straighter, and Theo joins me and Ryland on the couch,

We’re all still dressed in the same clothes we wore to Luca’s party, although they’re a bit worse for wear—torn and dirty, stained with spots of blood. Ryland has taken off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up his tattooed forearms, and Marcus removed his tie a while ago, unbuttoning the top several buttons of his shirt. Theo is still shirtless, his ab muscles flexing a little as he digs into his pocket for his phone.

I wonder how long we’ll be able to stay here, locked up in this little house. There’s water, and I think there’s some non-perishable food in the kitchen, although nothing all that appetizing. I wish I had a change of clothes, but that’s honestly the least of our worries right now.

Marcus sits down on the chair set to one side of the coffee table, leaning over his laptop as he taps quickly at the keys. Then he looks up. “I sent each of you a batch of files. If you find anything useful, we’ll all take a look at it.”

I nod, accepting my phone from Ryland, who’s been holding it for me. My dress was outfitted with small pockets to hold the flash drive and connector, but it didn’t have pockets big enough for a cell.

The room goes quiet as all four of us pour through the information Zee was able to unlock. Considering these files were the least encrypted ones on Luca’s computer, I’m not entirely convinced we’ll find anything yet. It’s hard to imagine someone as cunning and intelligent as Luca being careless with his data.

Still, it’s worth looking.

It’s also boring as fuck.

A lot of the documents I scroll through have to do with Luca’s known businesses, and it’s pretty damn dry. Invoices and spreadsheets, notes on buyers and suppliers, that kind of thing.

It doesn’t help that it’s so late it’s early, and the little bit of sleep I got wasn’t nearly enough to make me feel chipper and alert.

But when I open up a new file out of the dozens Marcus sent me, I sit up a little straighter, my brows pulling together as I stare at the small screen on my phone.

“Something good?” Ryland asks, noticing the change in my posture.

“Not sure. Not about the Viper,” I murmur. “But interesting anyway.”

There’s no mention of the Viper in the document I’m reading. But there is mention of Genevieve, Luca’s late wife.

I don’t know much about her other than what the guys told me when they first explained the game to me. She was apparently Luca’s whole world. She died quite a while ago, and he never remarried or even took a mistress. That was ostensibly the reason why he created the game in the first place—because he had no heir of his own.

The documents I’m staring at now are her medical records, doctors’ reports and bloodwork from the time she was sick. She had cancer, which I already knew, but it looks like she chose to forgo some of the more aggressive and potentially effective treatments.

“She never went through chemo,” I murmur. “I don’t get it. If Luca loved her so much, why wouldn’t he make sure she tried every kind of treatment available?”

Marcus looks up from the laptop. “I don’t know. What are the files named? I’ll look through them too.”

I rattle off the names so he can search for them on the laptop, then continue scrolling on my phone. My breath catches in my throat as my gaze snags on a report from a checkup.

“Holy fuck. She was pregnant.”

“What?” Theo’s head whips up, and he glances from Ryland to Marcus. “Did you know about that?”

They both shake their heads, and Marcus picks up the laptop in front of him. “Here.”

He carries it over to the couch, settling between me and Ryland. It’s a bit of a tight fit for us all to cram onto the small sofa, but it lets us all see the screen of Marcus’s laptop.

Pulling up the file I was just looking at, he zooms in a little, and the four of us read in silence.

“Yeah, she was definitely pregnant,” I say quietly. “I guess that answers the question of why Luca couldn’t get her to try more aggressive treatment options. She probably didn’t want to endanger the baby.”

“What happened to his kid though? That’s the real fucking question,” Theo puts in, resting his chin on his knuckles as he leans in to read the notes. “Is he or she alive? I mean, we know by now that this whole ‘choosing a successor’ thing is bullshit, but is it possible he already has a successor? An heir?”

“Motherfucker,” Ryland mutters.

Marcus’s finger moves quickly across the trackpad, pulling up more of the medical records.

Silence falls again as we read through the documents in chronological order, from the discovery of Genevieve’s cancer all the way through her various failed treatments.

The picture that emerges is heartbreaking.

None of the treatments worked. They barely even prolonged her life.

And in the end, she lost her baby too.

She miscarried at thirteen weeks, and by then, the cancer was too aggressive to do much more than make her comfortable as it ravaged her body, eating away at her until there was nothing left.

She passed away four months after her baby died.

The computer screen blurs in my vision, and I realize a tear has slipped down my cheek. It’s hard to have any sympathy for Luca D’Addario, the man responsible for putting the three people I love most in the world in danger. But I do feel for his wife and his unborn child.

“That’s fucking awful,” I murmur, and Theo’s hand comes to rest on my knee, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Search for her name. Luca’s wife,” he tells Marcus. “See what else comes up.”

Marcus taps at the keyboard again, and a moment later, several documents appear in the search results.

“That one.” I point.

Among the medical records, obituary, and photos, there’s a document simply titled My Love. Marcus clicks on it, and when it opens, I realize it’s a letter. A message Luca wrote to his wife after she died.

I almost feel guilty for prying this deep into the man’s life, into his soul like this. The things we’re reading now have nothing at all to do with the Viper, and they won’t help us prove that Luca has been living a double-life, working hard to solidify his power in Halston while the competitors and their families went after each other.

But I need to know. Now that I’ve started reading, I can’t stop until I understand what happened all those years ago. How it shaped the man Luca is today.

The letter isn’t long, but every word on the screen bleeds pain.

Agony.

I have a feeling he wrote it one day when he just couldn’t contain the heartbreak raging in his soul anymore. Luca doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who keeps a diary, so he probably had nowhere else to put his feelings down. He just opened a document and started typing.

Dearest Genevieve,

I miss you. I miss you so fucking much it hurts to draw breath. The world without you in it doesn’t make sense, and I don’t think it ever will.

Why did I have to lose our child with you? Why did our son have to die?

I held the barrel of a gun under my chin last night, and for a few glorious seconds, I dreamed of joining you. But I know if I do that, we’ll never be together again.

I watch people, those who still have families, those who still have children, and I want them to understand my pain.

I want to burn the world, if only so the fire in my heart will have company.

I love you.

I will never stop loving you.

Until the day I die.

My teeth clamp down on my lower lip as I read, and by the third pass-through, I realize I’m biting so hard I’m about to break through the skin. I loosen my hold, blowing out a breath as my abused lip throbs.

“It still isn’t proof,” I murmur. “Not the kind of proof we need. But this is the beginning of Luca’s scheme right here, isn’t it? This whole thing about pitting the heirs of the most powerful families against each other wasn’t just about gaining more power for himself. It was about balancing the scales, at least in his eyes. If happiness was torn from him, he wanted to take it from others too.”

Theo scrubs a hand down his face, blinking at the screen. “Fuck. That’s dark as shit.”

“I get it,” Marcus murmurs.

My eyebrows shoot up, and I turn to look at him. He’s gazing down at his laptop, his face unreadable.

I shake my head. “You get what?”

He glances over at me, and the depth of emotion burning in his multi-colored eyes makes my stomach flip over.

“Some people love in a nice way. In a simple way. In an easy way. When those people lose someone they love, they mourn, but eventually they move on.”

He stops speaking for a moment. Then he moves suddenly, grabbing me and hauling me onto his lap. I let out a startled yelp as I straddle him, my dress twisting awkwardly around my legs. He bands one strong arm around my waist, holding me close as his other hand fists my hair, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“That’s not the way I love you, angel. That’s not the way any of us love you. It’s not nice. It’s not soft or wholesome. It fills me up so completely that sometimes I can barely fucking breathe.”

The hand that’s gripping my hair shakes with the intensity of his emotions, a bite of pain stinging my scalp as I gaze helplessly into his eyes, unable to look away. Theo and Ryland close in on either side of us, and with all three of them looking at me, surrounding me like this, I can’t think of anything else.

“It’s not healthy,” Marcus grits out. “It’s not right. But I’m not taking it back. I love you with my whole goddamn soul, and if I ever lost you, I’d raze the fucking world to the ground. I’d ruin it, just for existing when you didn’t.”

My heart slams against my ribs as the full force of his words washes over me.

I should be afraid.

I should be terrified.

Marcus is right. This isn’t healthy. It’s not normal.

This is the kind of love they talk about in history books as the reason wars are started. The reason empires rise and fall.

The connection that burns so hot between the four of us isn’t a gentle flame. It’s an inferno that could ignite the entire world.

My chest rises and falls as I try to catch my breath. My hand is resting on Marcus’s chest, and I fist his shirt, my fingers digging into the fabric. Then I haul him toward me, pulling harder against his grip on my hair and ignoring the pain that flares in my scalp as I crush my lips to his.

He kisses me back, plunging his tongue into my mouth like he’s trying to claim every piece of me. When we finally break apart to gasp for air, Ryland tilts my head toward his, slamming his lips into mine before I can even draw a breath.

I’m dizzy from lack of oxygen and the overwhelming feeling of being completely consumed by these men. My hand keeps clutching Marcus’s shirt as if I need it to anchor myself. Ryland’s lips still taste like the whiskey we drank earlier, and I whimper hungrily as my tongue battles with his.

When a strong hand closes around my jaw, I let it guide my motions, breaking my kiss with Ryland and turning to face Theo. I still haven’t drawn a complete breath, but I don’t think I care anymore.

Who needs fucking air when they can have this?

Would you do that, angel? Would you let us have all of you?

Marcus’s words from the day he fucked me in the shower pour through my mind.

I knew my answer then, and I’m fucking sure of it now.

Yes.

In every single way possible, I will give myself to these men.

It’s only been a few hours since Theo and I fucked in the bathroom, but my body doesn’t seem to care. It’s ravenous, and I grind against Marcus as Theo flicks his tongue over my lips, teasing me. Ryland’s mouth is on my shoulder, his teeth grazing my sensitive flesh as Marcus palms my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me groan.

A soft sound filters through the haze of desire clouding my mind.

It’s not my breath, or the men’s. It’s not the sound of our whimpers or groans.

It’s sharp and metallic, a strange ping that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Something about it is wrong. I don’t know how, but the animal part of my brain is sure of it.

Beneath me, Marcus stiffens. All three of the men freeze, going absolutely still.

Then Marcus throws himself off the couch, his arms still wrapped tightly around me, as the door bursts open.

CHAPTER 14

WE HIT the ground with a heavy thud, wedged between the coffee table and the couch, as Theo and Ryland dive off the couch too. Another sharp pinging sound rings out, and I realize with a shock of recognition that it’s the sound of a gun firing through a silencer.

For a fraction of a second, Marcus’s gaze meets mine, the earth and air of his irises churning with emotion. Then he rolls off me in the cramped space, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling his gun from the holster.

The sounds of his shots are loud, and whoever breached the door falls back, taking cover behind the door frame on the outside of the house. From where I’m lying on the floor, I can see that part of the door is blown away near the knob, and I realize whoever it is must’ve shot out the lock. That’s what the first pinging noise was.

“Fucking hell!” Theo shouts as Marcus shoots again. “It’s goddamn Adrian.”

A bullet tears through one of the front windows of the house, shattering glass.

“Shit!”

Marcus snatches my gun off the coffee table and shoves it into my hand. Then he flips me over onto my stomach, shielding my body with his as he shoves over the coffee table to create a makeshift barrier.

“Get behind the couch. Go! Move!”

My dress catches around my legs, and it’s hard as fuck to army crawl with only three full limbs, but I manage to scramble around behind the couch, pressing my back to it as Marcus joins me. He peers around the edge, then glances at Theo, who’s taking cover behind a large chair nearby. Ryland is on my other side, tension radiating from him.

“At least two outside,” Marcus says quietly. “Adrian’s by the door, and there’s one more with him, I think.”

A bullet embeds itself into the couch with a cracking sound, and my heart lurches in my chest. Ryland pops around his side of the couch, firing two rounds at the door.

“How the fuck did he find us?” he mutters, sounding furious.

It’s a pointless question. It doesn’t matter how Adrian found out our location. All that matters is that he’s here now. We all knew this place wouldn’t be safe forever, but I damn sure hoped our security would last longer than this.

Luca really did unleash the wolves on us.

Breathing hard, I tighten my grip on my gun. The metal is comforting in my grip, cool and smooth against my heated skin. My finger rests lightly on the trigger, and I catch Marcus’s gaze as he glances over at me.

Something almost like pride flashes in his eyes, and I wonder fleetingly what I must look like right now. My hair is unkempt, I’ve got scrapes and bruises, and everything about me is at odds with the elegant beauty of the dress I’m wearing.

But I don’t think Marcus cares. All he sees is a warrior. A woman who’ll do whatever it takes to survive.

Two more quiet shots pierce the night, and I feel the impact reverberate through the couch as they hit. The distant sound of wood splintering hits my ears, and then a door bangs open somewhere in the back of the house.

Fuck. They’ve breached the back door too.

My head whips in that direction as heavy footsteps thud against the worn hardwood. Three more men come into view in the back hallway, guns raised.

Without thinking, my arm flies up, my finger squeezing the trigger. My shot catches one of the men in the shoulder, and he stumbles, letting out a pained grunt. The other two men let off shots just as a large hand clamps around my arm, yanking me sideways.

A bullet pierces the couch where my head was just a second earlier, and Ryland drags me behind him, firing at our attackers himself.

As Ryland and I break off from Marcus, all three of us scrambling to find new cover, I realize the standoff at the front of the house was meant to be a distraction, something to keep us occupied and focused in the direction while the second team moved to box us in.

I haven’t seen Michael or Gabriel, so I’m guessing Adrian and his team are working alone.

Fuck. How many are there? How big of a fucking team did he bring?

And how long can we last against them?

Ryland and I dive into the kitchen through the open doorway that connects it to the living room, taking cover behind the wall. A loud thud makes my heart jump, but when I peer around, I see that Theo and Marcus have tipped over the heavy bookshelf in the corner opposite us and are taking cover behind it.

Our attackers are relentless. We’re barely holding off the team at the front and the one that’s staked out the back hallway, but it’s only a matter of time before they break through our defenses. I always thought of Adrian as the weakest competitor in the game, but obviously there’s a damn reason he lasted this long.

Bullets are flying across the living room, coming from so many directions that it’s almost impossible to track them all. Theo catches a man in the knee, and when he goes down, another bullet goes through his skull. Blood stains the floor around him.

At least one more person has entered through the back door. From where I’m braced against the wall in the kitchen, I can get a glimpse down the hallway that leads to the back of the house. As I peer out cautiously, I catch sight of the man I clipped in the shoulder shoving open the bedroom door where we left Dominic bound on the bed.

Fuck.

My heart lurches in my chest, a wave of fear crashing through me. I fire at the man again, but I miss this time, and he slips into the room before I can try again. Two muffled shots ring out, and then there’s a yell and a heavy thud.

My stomach feels like someone pumped it full of battery acid. A bitter taste coats my tongue, and the pops and pings of gunshots around me sound muffled, as if we’re all underwater.

I don’t know Dominic, not really. But the idea that he might be dead makes something shrivel inside me.

No.

No.

With a harsh yell, I lean around the kitchen doorway slightly and take aim at the front door. I may not be able to shoot into the bedroom, but I can at least do something.

My heart pounds as I take aim and fire at the small expanse of someone’s shoulder that’s visible outside the front door. It’s either blind luck or blind rage, but my bullet finds its mark this time. Droplets of blood spray, and when the man staggers sideways a little, I fire again, piercing his chest. He falls through the open frame of the doorway, dead before he even hits the ground.

Ryland glances at me, looking a little impressed, but I don’t have time to think about it. I don’t have time to think about the fact that I just killed a man. Adrian is still staked out in the front, and the men who took up positions in the back hallway are still there, boxing us into the living room like cats chasing mice.

Suddenly, two pinging gunshots ring out.

I look over in time to see two of the men who took cover in the hallway topple.

Dominic leans heavily on the bedroom door frame as he swings his weapon around. His hands are still bound, but he’s managed to undo the tape that was wound around his ankles. He must’ve gotten the gun from the man who broke into the room.

The two men at the front of the house—Adrian and one other—turn their fire on Dom, and he stumbles backward.

But his shots gave us the opening we need.

The men in the back hallway are all down, and Dominic has drawn Adrian and his buddy’s fire.

Theo and Marcus don’t waste the opportunity. They both burst out from behind the bookshelf they had angled in one corner as cover, bullets flying as they race across the room.

Adrian and his man shift their attack to the men rushing toward them, but they’re too late. Marcus shoots the man whose shoulder I clipped, catching him in the neck, and he goes down with a gurgling grunt.

Adrian Reyes steps around the door frame, his face set in a mask of anger. He raises his gun, aiming it at Marcus, but a shot rings out like a clap of thunder.

He staggers slightly, taking a few steps inside the house, and Ryland shoots again, sending him sprawling back against the wall just inside the door.

Adrian’s body hits the wall and slides down, toppling over to lie in a crumpled heap.

For a moment, my mind can’t quite comprehend that the shooting has stopped. The silence seems to roar in my ears like avenging thunder, and only now, after it all, does nausea coil in my stomach.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Yeah.”

Ryland extends his hand to me, helping me up from my knees. My dress is in even worse shape than before, and it occurs to me that if shit keeps going the way it has been, I should really do myself a favor and just tear most of the skirt off. I need room to move, and the fabric keeps tripping me up.

None of us put our weapons away as we slowly assess the state of the room. When a scuffling sound comes from the hallway, all four of us raise our guns. It’s Dom, leaning stiffly against the doorframe of the bedroom again. He’s still holding his stolen weapon, and I can see that his wrists are red and raw looking where the tape binds them.

For a moment, the five of us stand in a silent face-off. Then he grimaces, making a show of lowering his gun.

“If I wanted to shoot you, I would’ve done it while everyone else was shooting at you too,” he mutters, looking a little sullen. The bruise on his head is getting steadily uglier, and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks like shit, and I don’t know how to feel about that.

About him.

So I just drag my gaze away, letting the men deal with him. As Theo walks over and takes the gun, I survey the space around me.

There are spatters of blood on the walls and floor, and the bodies strewn around the room are a macabre sight. It didn’t all register in the heat of the shootout, but the vacant eyes and bullet wounds turn my stomach.

Slowly, I move toward Adrian’s body. There’s no fucking chance he’s still alive, but I cautiously nudge his form with my toe anyway.

“Can you untie me? I’d be able to help better if I could move my hands independently,” Dominic comments from behind me.

“You’d be able to help better if you sit down and shut the fuck up,” Theo shoots back, and Dom lets out an annoyed noise.

I look up from Adrian’s body, turning to face the others. “How close are the nearest neighbors? What are the odds anybody heard this and called the cops?”

If the cops are on the way, we’ll need to get out of here as fast as we can. The last thing any of us need is to get hauled in to jail. We’d be sitting ducks.

“Nobody close. That’s part of why we picked this location,” Ryland tells me.

I nod. “Good. We should still—”

Before I can finish the sentence, cool metal presses against my temple. A slender arm wraps around my torso from behind, pinning me against a feminine body as the gun digs harder into the side of my head.

“Hey, guys,” Victoria drawls. “Did I miss the party?”

CHAPTER 15

MY HEART LURCHES, jumping into my throat.

All four of the men’s heads whip toward us. Dominic looks startled, but the other three? They look pissed.

Furious.

“Drop the gun,” Victoria tells me, and her voice has already dropped the teasing drawl. She jams the barrel of her own weapon against my temple, her grip on me tightening.

I hesitate for a second, but Ryland speaks, his jaw tight. “Do it.”

Carefully, I toss the gun aside. It lands on the hardwood with a dull thunk, and I instantly feel naked and exposed without its heavy weight in my hand.

“Good.” Victoria nods. I catch the movement out of the corner of my eye. Her head is close to mine, her body angled behind mine so that I provide a convenient shield for her.

“What the fuck are you doing, Victoria?” Marcus growls, rage burning in his eyes.

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” she spits back, an edge to her voice that I’ve never heard before. “I’m trying to end this fucking thing. To win.”

“Yeah?” Theo’s voice is hard. “How you gonna do that? Huh? We’ve got you outnumbered. Unless you brought backup like Adrian did.”

She scoffs. “No, I don’t have backup like him. I followed him alone.” She glances around the room. “Not like his backup did him a whole lot of fucking good. Besides, I don’t need it. Because I’ve got your girl.”

All three of my men stiffen at her words. They sound so strange coming out of her mouth, something I would’ve expected to hear Gabriel or Michael say, not her. I’ve only met her a few times, but she always seemed polished and smooth, like someone who understands how much appearances matter and has carefully cultivated hers.

But right now, none of that careful control is evident.

“What do you want?”

The words sound like they’re ripped from Marcus’s mouth, like they’re covered in broken glass.

“I want you.” Victoria jerks her chin toward him. “All three of you. You heard what Luca said just as well as I did. I can end this right now, and if you don’t make it difficult, I’ll let Ayla live.”

My stomach drops, panic beating against my ribs. She’s trying to bargain with them. My life for theirs.

I can’t let them take that deal.

Even if I thought she would keep her word, I can’t let them take it. I can’t fucking lose them.

Marcus’s jaw clenches. He and the other two men all still have their weapons, but I know they don’t have a clear shot. And no chance of taking one with Victoria’s finger on the trigger and her gun gouging into my temple. His gaze flicks left and right as he shares a look with Theo and Ryland, and fear turns my veins ice-cold.

He’s considering it.

“Wait!” I blurt out.

“What?”

Victoria growls the word, pressing the gun even harder into my skin like she’s trying to remind me how close I am to death. As if I could fucking forget.

“Why do you want to win the game so bad?” I ask, swallowing around the golf ball sized lump in my throat. Fear has turned my mouth dry as dust.

As terrifying as Adrian and his team were, this is somehow worse. If Victoria followed him here alone, she must’ve known she wouldn’t be able to take on all three of the guys at once. But she also knew she wouldn’t have to.

Not if she could get her hands on me.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She laughs harshly. “Why do I want to win? Haven’t these assholes explained any of this to you? If I win, I get control of Halston. I get to run this fucking city.”

“That’s not the only reason though, is it?” I press.

I could be totally off-base, but there’s no time to second-guess myself now. I can feel something different in her.

A desperation, a wildness.

I know why the men and I are desperate, but Victoria should have no reason to be. She’s usually so cool and collected, and she’s got the upper hand right now. She should be basking in her power over us, but instead, I can feel her body trembling slightly behind mine.

Something is wrong, and whatever it is, it’s throwing her off balance.

Her wild emotions make her dangerous, but they also make her vulnerable.

“Why do you want to win so bad, Victoria?” I press when she doesn’t answer my previous question. “Whatever it is you want, maybe we can help you. Maybe we can give you—”

“Shut up. You can’t give me anything,” she hisses, her fingers digging into my arm as she tightens her grip on my torso. “You can’t help me. No one can fucking help me. That’s why I need to win.”

Now I’m sure I didn’t imagine it. There’s a strain in her voice, fear or panic or something.

“Help you with what?” I press again.

“Shut up!” Her voice is loud and harsh in my ear, and she turns toward me more fully, her lips curling back. “I told you to shut the fuck up!”

It’s only a small shift in her stance.

A small opening.

But Marcus takes it.

He moves so fast it’s like a blur of motion, sprinting toward us and throwing himself at Victoria. I dive to the side as his body collides with hers, a gunshot ringing out so close to my head it makes my ears ring painfully. The bullet grazes my cheek, and I land with a heavy thud on the floor, unable to get my good arm around to brace my fall.

Marcus pins Victoria, his larger body holding her down as the other two men rush forward. Even Dominic hobbles toward us, still bound at the ankles and wrists.

Victoria lets out a sharp scream as she grapples for the gun, throwing all her weight into the struggle. But Marcus wrests it from her hands, straddling her waist as he expertly flips the weapon in his grip, bracing the butt in one palm as he aims at her head.

With a shock, I realize he’s about to pull the trigger.

“No!”

I throw myself toward them, shoving Marcus’s arms to the side just as the shot fires. The ringing in my ears intensifies, and I’m sure Victoria’s are ringing just as loudly. But the bullet misses her face, penetrating the heavy wood of the floor next to her head.

“What the fuck?” Marcus looks up sharply at me, something almost like anger on his face.

He once promised me he’d kill Victoria before he ever had to marry her, and he’s probably wondering why I just robbed him of that chance. He fixes the gun on her again, still pinning her with the weight of his body, sitting on her to keep her in place.

Theo and Ryland both have their weapons trained on her too, and all three of them look at me as Marcus growls, “We need to take care of her, Ayla. It’s the only way.”

“Wait,” I say again, repeating the same plea I made when Victoria was about to shoot me.

Marcus’s entire body radiates a feral, dangerous rage, but he clenches his jaw and does as I ask, resting his finger on the trigger as he glares down at the woman beneath him.

My gaze lands on her too. Unlike us, she’s changed since the party at Luca’s. She’s no longer wearing the show-stopping dress she had on earlier, but a pair of dark pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt.

Her hair auburn hair is tied back in a tight ponytail, and she stares up at Marcus, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.

There’s something in her eyes that makes my stomach tighten. Something dull and lifeless, a willingness to accept death. To embrace it, even.

I step closer, standing close to Ryland as I look down at her.

“Are you gonna answer my question now?” I ask evenly. “Because if you don’t, I don’t know how much longer I can keep one of these guys from putting a bullet between your eyes. I don’t know how much longer I’ll even try. But I want to know. What’s in it for you if you win? Why are you so fucking desperate for it? Is it just for the power?”

Her green eyes dart sideways quickly as she looks at me. Ignoring the gun that still hovers a few inches from her face, she holds my gaze.

“I want the power,” she says quietly. “It’s the only way I can save him.”

“Who?”

Her jaw clenches like she’s trying to bite back the answer, but this time, I don’t press her. I know she can feel the threat emanating from all of the men, and since she answered my first question, I have a feeling she’ll keep talking.

“Jaden and I knew each other before my family ever had money,” she finally says. “We fell in love after my dad got rich, but I didn’t fucking care that he didn’t have what I had. We had each other. That was enough.”

Tears gather in her eyes as she speaks, but her voice stays steady, her expression hard—like someone who long ago learned to function through pain and grief.

“He always had a side hustle selling drugs. Just a small client list, nothing big. But he stepped on Luca’s territory, and Luca has a zero tolerance policy for that kind of thing.”

My lips press together, remembering everything we just learned about Luca. How his pain morphed into rage after the death of his wife and unborn child. “He killed Jaden?”

Victoria shakes her head slightly. “No. Worse. He named a figure and said that was how much Jaden had cost him by dealing in his territory. He told him he could work it off. And for the past five years, he’s held Jaden under his fucking thumb, making him do whatever shit Luca wants to pay off his ‘debt.’ But he’s never going to let him go. He’s just going to kill him slowly.”

Her lips curl back, and she looks nothing at all like the woman I spoke to by the pool when Marcus and I went to her house that day. I have a feeling the Victoria I’m looking at now is a lot closer to the “real” Victoria than that calm, smiling version was.

“There was nothing I could do. Nothing Jaden could do,” she continues bitterly. “He couldn’t go to the cops. If he fought back, Luca would kill him. And if he ran, Luca would hunt him down and kill him. Luca owns this city. The only way I could get Jaden out of his grasp was—”

“—by winning the game,” I finish for her. “That’s why you entered.”

She’s silent for a second, then lets out a breath. “Yes. My dad didn’t want me to. He hates this whole fucking thing, and he hates Luca. But I couldn’t let him talk me out of it. It was the only way. I have to win.”

I glance at Ryland and Theo. They’re both staring at Victoria like they’ve never seen her before in their lives, which I guess they haven’t—not this version anyway.

My gaze shifts to Marcus. His opinion of Victoria doesn’t seem to have shifted one bit with this new information, but when he looks up at me, he gives a sharp nod. “Tell her.”

I can’t tell if he just wants to see her break completely, or if he’s hoping she’ll become an ally if we can convince her. Either way, I think he’s right. She needs to know.

And if she doesn’t believe us, we can always kill her.

“I see why you decided to play,” I tell her, "but it won’t work.”

Victoria’s eyes narrow, and for the first time since she started speaking, she glances away from me, looking up at Theo and Ryland before flicking her gaze to Marcus’s face. She looks like she’s trying to figure out her angle, so I continue before she can solidify whatever theory is forming in her mind.

“It won’t work because the game isn’t real. Luca has no intention of stepping down, or handing over his power. He’s been using the game as a distraction, letting the powerful families of Halston tear each other apart while he systematically fortified his empire, building it up even more.”

“Luca is the Viper,” Marcus says shortly.

Victoria’s eyebrows rise, and I hear a choked sound from behind me.

Fuck. I forgot Dominic was still here.

“That’s insane,” Victoria bites out, looking unsettled and pissed. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s the Viper. We’re sure of it.” I nod, echoing Marcus’s words. “It was just a hunch at first, but given his reaction last night, I’m damn fucking sure of it now. Didn’t it strike you as a little strange that he suddenly called in an attack on three players in the game? That he set the rest of you against Marcus, Theo, and Ryland with no real explanation given?”

“No.” Victoria’s lips purse. “Luca does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. I’m well acquainted with that fact by now.”

“That’s why he needs to be stopped,” Dominic says quietly.

I stiffen, surprised at his words. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I am.

“Oh, yeah? You’re on our side now?” Theo glares at him, and I can’t help the little glow of satisfaction I feel at the anger in his tone. If I let him, I think he’d still put a bullet in Dom, or at least take a few swings at him.

“I’m on the side of whoever’s against Luca.” Dominic snorts humorlessly, shuffling forward a little before bracing his bound hands on the shredded sofa. “So, probably the losing side. But Victoria’s right. Whether he’s the Viper or not, he’s gotten away with doing whatever the fuck he wants for way too long. And if he is the Viper, then he’ll kill every one of us to keep his secret.” He shrugs. “I’d rather die fighting than die running.”

Ryland cocks a brow at him. “Wow. When you say shit like that, you almost don’t sound like a cowardly piece of shit.”

“Fuck you, man.” Dom glares at him.

Theo catches my gaze as I shift to stand between Dom and Ryland. I know I need to tell Marcus and Ryland what I found out, but now isn’t the time. And I’m definitely not going to mention even a hint of my suspicions in front of Dominic.

Not now. Maybe not ever.

“Fine,” I say, dragging the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Then Dom is with us. Victoria?”

She looks at me like I’ve lost my fucking mind, her green eyes hard and penetrating. “What?”

“Are you with us, or should we kill you?”

She shifts a little beneath Marcus, her lips pulling back. “With you in what? What are you planning to do?”

“We’re going to find solid proof that Luca is the Viper. That he’s been double-crossing every family he conscripted into this fucking ‘game’ and who knows how many other people in Halston as he built up his empire under an assumed name. Then we’re going to bring him down.”

Victoria stares up at me for a long moment. Even though I’ve seen the sharper, messier, more real version of her, that doesn’t discount her intelligence. She’s cunning as a damn fox, and I can practically see her doing mental calculations in her head, working out the smartest move. The move that will benefit her the most.

Luckily for us, I have a pretty good idea I know which move that is.

And I’m right.

Breaking the silence that hangs in the air, Victoria huffs out a breath and gives a grudging nod.

“All right. I’m in too.”

CHAPTER 16

“LIKE FUCKING HELL YOU ARE.”

Marcus has been still as a statue on top of Victoria ever since I stopped him from shooting her, so when he leans down suddenly and shoves his forearm under her chin, pressing his gun against her temple, the movement makes me jump.

She lets out a tiny noise of surprise too, but to her credit, she keeps her face impassive as Marcus gets in her face.

“Before we accept your ‘help’ for anything, let’s get a few goddamn things straight. This engagement? It’s over.”

Victoria sneers, her eyes flashing. Her voice is raspy when she speaks, and I wonder how close Marcus is to cutting her air off entirely. “Of course it is. It was a tactic, you asshole. I was playing the fucking game, but apparently that doesn’t matter anymore. And you’re welcome for saving your life, by the way.”

“Fuck you,” he growls.

She looks like she’s about to tell him to go fuck himself, but before she can, I lean down and grab his shoulder.

“Marcus. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

His muscles are like steel under my touch. I know this man would give me anything I want, but I’m not sure that’s enough to override his murderous rage in this moment. I tighten my grip on him a little, tugging gently, and he finally relents, releasing the pressure on Victoria’s throat.

He stands in a smooth motion, his gun still pointed at her face. His gaze darts between Ryland and Theo before he jerks his chin at the woman on the floor. “Watch her. Shoot her if she moves.” Then he cuts a glance at Dominic. “Him too.”

With those words, he steps away from Victoria, taking my hand and pulling me down the hall.

I try not to notice the dead bodies we pass, or the way the coppery scent of blood seems to hang in the air, hitting the back of my throat with every inhale. We really need to get the fuck out of here fast—which means we need to settle this and decide what to do with Victoria even faster.

Dragging me into a small bedroom farther down from where we kept Dominic, Marcus slams the door shut behind us.

He presses me up against it, his hands on my shoulders and his large body pinning me to the wood. He didn’t turn the light on, so the only illumination in the room is the blue-gray hue of early dawn creeping through the window. For a second, I lock gazes with him, his eyes flashing in the dim light.

Then he crushes his lips to mine in a bruising kiss.

My hand flies to his hair, grabbing onto the thick brown strands and holding on as he kisses the breath out of me, driving all thoughts from my head just like he drives the air from my lungs.

I don’t know what he’s trying to do—what point he’s trying to make.

But I don’t fight the connection that flares between us. It’s like a pilot light, constantly burning, waiting only for the smallest spark to ignite a roaring flame.

I grind against him, kissing him back so hard I taste blood. Mine or his, I don’t know and don’t care. It mingles with the scent of blood in my nostrils, and it feels almost like we’re kissing to stave off death.

There’s so fucking much of it around us, reminders of our own mortality, of the precariousness of our situation.

Shoving those thoughts away, I rake my nails down the back of Marcus’s neck, drawing a heavy groan from him. He finally breaks our kiss, his forehead resting on mine as he drags up the skirt of my dress, bunching it around my waist as he slips his hand into my panties.

Two thick fingers slide into me as if they own me, as if they don’t belong anywhere else. Marcus’s eyelids droop as he hooks them, rubbing my g-spot and pulling me closer to him all in one motion. His breaths are harsh and deep, and I have a sudden vivid memory of the first time I was face-to-face with him after he came back into my life.

That day in the library when he made me come on his fingers.

“Who does this belong to, angel?” he murmurs roughly.

“You.”

“Who else?”

“Ryland and Theo.”

“Who else?”

“No one.”

“For how long?” he demands.

“Forever.”

He groans, pumping his fingers deeper and massaging my g-spot again. I pulled him away from the others to talk about Victoria and what we should do about her. About our plan to take Luca down. A few moments ago, sex was the furthest thing from my mind, and now I’m on the verge of coming on Marcus’s hand, pushed over the edge by a few strokes of his fingers and his deep voice in my ears.

As if he can feel the change in my body, the coiled heat begging to be let free, Marcus presses his thumb to my clit, massaging in a rapid pulse as his fingers plunge in and out of me.

Pleasure spikes inside me. There’s no warning or preamble before the orgasm tears through my body, singeing my nerve-endings and drawing a shuddering cry from my lips.

Aftershocks are still coursing through me when Marcus draws his fingers out abruptly, smearing my arousal over my skin before reaching up to grab my hand in his. His other hand deftly unbuckles his pants, then he pulls his cock free and brings our joined hands down to wrap around the pulsing heat of his shaft.

He’s hard and velvety-smooth, the veins that run along the length of him pulsing. Everything about his cock is angry. Demanding. Insistent.

Using his grip on me to guide our movements, he jerks himself off with my hand, holding my gaze as his pupils dilate and his body shudders.

“Who does this belong to, angel? Say it.”

“Me.” I lick my lips, my pussy throbbing, my core clenching around nothing. “It belongs to me.”

“Who else does it belong to?”

“No one.”

He growls, thrusting harder into our strokes, his hand tightening around mine. “What would you do if another woman touched what was yours? If she tried to take what was yours?”

I make a small noise in the back of my throat. I just came hard from his fingers and thumb, but the needy ache hasn’t subsided. His words are only stoking the flame higher.

“I’d kill her,” I rasp out.

“Fuck, angel. Oh fuck.”

His cock swells beneath my palm, his thrusts becoming harder and choppier. Desperate to feel his release, to taste it, I suddenly drop to my knees in front of him. He releases my hand, slamming both of his palms against the door as I wrap my lips around him, using my fist and my mouth to stroke his entire length.

My tongue swirls over his smooth head, lapping up his salty pre-cum, and when I take him as deep as I can, bringing him all the way into my throat, he curses.

His hips jerk forward, cutting off my air supply entirely, filling my senses with nothing but him.

Then he explodes, his cock pulsing over and over as salty cum hits the back of my tongue. I swallow, my hand sliding up his shirt and over the hard plane of his stomach as he shudders again.

Finally, I release him from my mouth, sitting back on my heels as I look up at him. From this angle, he looks like a god of darkness, looming over me as the gray morning light frames his shadowy form.

His gaze catches mine, and he holds that connection as he reaches down to tuck himself away, zipping his pants up slowly.

“I would’ve killed her, you know,” he says quietly. Some of the rage has drained from his voice, and now all that’s left is the plain truth.

“I know.”

“You really trust her?”

I sigh. “No. I don’t trust anyone but the three of you. But she hated Luca even before she found out he lied about this entire thing. And the way she loves Jaden?” I drag my hand down Marcus’s muscled thigh, my fingernails sliding along the expensive fabric of his pants. “It’s the way I love you. The kind of love that can burn down the world. I could hear it in her voice, see it in her eyes. It’s dangerous, but I think it’s what we need on our side.”

Marcus closes his eyes briefly, as if he’s letting himself get lost in my touch for a moment. Then he pulls me to my feet, enveloping me in his arms.

The clean scent of leather fills my nostrils, mixing with blood and something acrid and metallic. But in Marcus’s embrace, even those scents are comforting.

They’re a reminder of the lengths he’ll go to just to keep me safe.

“All right, angel,” he murmurs, his face buried in my hair. “You win.”

CHAPTER 17

WHEN MARCUS and I return to the living room, we find everyone in roughly the same places we left them.

Victoria is still on the floor, although she’s scooted back to lean against the wall on the opposite side of the front door from where Adrian’s body lies. And Dominic is sitting on the torn up couch instead of just leaning against it.

Theo and Ryland both still have weapons drawn, and when we enter the room, their eyes find mine immediately, shifting between me and Marcus.

I give a slight nod to let them know everything’s okay, then turn my attention to Victoria.

“If we agree not to kill you, I need your word that you’re in this until the end. That you’ll help us bring down Luca.”

“What happens then?” she asks, her green eyes glittering as she eyes me coolly. “If we succeed?”

I blink, almost shocked by the question.

Jesus. It didn’t even occur to me until she asked, but I can barely picture that possibility. A version of events where we win. My men and I have been forging ahead on pure determination and a lack of any other options, but it still feels a little like a suicide mission.

I’m sure that’s not what Victoria needs to hear right now though. And, hell, she’s smart enough that she’s probably already figured that out for herself.

So instead of bringing the conversation down by discussing our odds of failure, I shrug one shoulder. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I can personally guarantee you that Jaden will be left alone. So will your family.”

Her gaze slides from me to Marcus, her expression hardening. But she nods. “Deal.”

I glance over at Dominic, who’s slumped on the couch. He looks exhausted, and a fresh line of blood is trickling down the side of his face. “I can make the same guarantee for your family if you want.”

“I don’t.” His words are blunt and hard. “They’re not my family. And they don’t deserve my protection. They bought me and signed me up to die just to try to win more power for themselves. Fuck them.”

Theo makes a low noise that almost sounds like approval.

Keeping my expression carefully neutral, I walk over to the sofa and perch on the edge of the cushion to unwind the tape from around Dom’s wrists. He looks a little surprised but doesn’t say anything, letting me work in silence.

As I remove the last piece and wad it up into a sticky ball, I see Victoria push to her feet out of the corner of my eye. Theo and Ryland both shove their guns in the waistbands of their pants, although their posture is still tense and wary.

Ignoring it, Victoria rests her hands on her hips. “So what’s the plan? I’m assuming you have one?”

“Yeah.” Marcus steps forward. “We’re looking for evidence that links Luca to the Viper’s activities. We pulled files from his computer, and we have a hacker who’s working on decrypting them, but he hasn’t been able to access all of the data. He’s still working on it.”

Victoria smirks. “Well, lucky for you, I know a guy. Better than good. And fast. Whatever your hacker hasn’t been able to unlock, I’m sure mine can crack it.”

I can practically feel Marcus bristling at her words, but we don’t have time to get into a pissing contest over whose hacker is better.

“Great,” I say quickly. “We can send files over soon. But we should get someplace more secure first.”

I don’t look at Adrian’s body as I speak, but I don’t need to. It feels like a cloud of death is hanging over this entire house, and I’m keenly aware of every corpse in the room.

“Yeah.” Theo nods, chewing on his lower lip. He tosses a glance at Dominic. “Your car’s pretty much fucked, sorry.”

Dom shrugs. “I’m not surprised.”

“We can take mine,” Victoria says. “Adrian’s car is close by too, but probably better not to drive it.”

Ryland scrubs a hand through his dark hair. “We should torch this place before we go too. Hell of a lot easier than wiping the whole place down to clear our fingerprints.”

“Okay, good.” I hesitate, realizing there’s a huge part of our plan still unaccounted for. “Where should we go?”

“I’ve got a place.” Dominic eyes are closed, his head tilted back on the couch. “A safe house like this one on the northeast side of town.” He cracks his eyelids open, looking over at me. “Not the same place we took Ayla. No one else knows about it but me.”

Ryland’s expression hardens at the mention of my kidnapping, and my skin prickles with nerves. It may be a horrible idea to team up with Dominic and Victoria. They’re pretty much the last two people I ever expected to have on our side. But each of them have their own reasons for wanting to take down Luca, and it’s that, more than anything, that makes me trust them enough to work with them.

We don’t really have much choice. We can’t let them go, so our only other options are to keep them prisoner or kill them.

“All right.” Marcus nods, his voice clipped. He glances over at Ryland and Theo. “There’s accelerant in the basement.”

It takes less than five minutes for us to get ready to leave. The screen of Marcus’s laptop is cracked, but it miraculously survived the shootout with no more damage than that. The guys drag the bodies into a rough pile in the living room, and then Ryland and Theo pour the accelerant over everything.

The house goes up with a whoosh, flames licking over the wood with hungry ferocity. The blazing flame almost matches the color of the sky as the first rays of the sun stream over the horizon.

It would be beautiful if it weren’t so bleak.

Victoria leads us down the driveway to where she left her car, and we all climb in.

It’s a tight fit now that our little party has grown to include six people, but we cram ourselves in anyway. Marcus sits up front, his gun held lightly in his hand as an overt reminder to Victoria not to fuck with us. The rest of us crawl into the back, with Dominic sitting behind the driver’s seat and me settled across Ryland’s and Theo’s laps.

Theo’s hand wraps around my waist, pulling me a little closer to him and his friend and a little farther away from Dominic. I lean back against his chest, inhaling his cherry wood scent and letting his warmth ground me.

I feel like there’s nothing left of me but frayed edges and jagged points. It’s almost impossible to believe that this all started less than twenty-four hours ago. So much has happened in that time, it feels as though weeks have passed.

No music plays as we drive. At one point, Victoria turns the car’s stereo on, but Marcus pointedly turns it back off. Dominic calls out the directions to her, and the rest of us watch the quiet streets of Halston roll by.

“It looks so peaceful,” I murmur, gazing at the mostly empty sidewalks painted orange and pink by the rising sun.

“For now.”

Theo’s voice is light, but I can tell he’s only partly teasing. He’s not wrong that the peace can’t last. That it’s an illusion to begin with.

We cut through the city and end up on the opposite side of town, at a house that’s less remote than the one we just left but still tucked away at the end of a cul-de-sac.

Victoria pulls into the garage, and as she turns the car’s engine off, Dominic opens his door and slips out. I slide out quickly after him, watching him suspiciously. We took a risk by letting Victoria drive us here, and we’re taking another risk by stepping into an unknown house with a man who was our enemy up until last night.

Victoria, at least, didn’t betray us by trying to alter the route or deliberately crashing the car or anything, but that still doesn’t mean I trust Dom not to try anything.

The men must all have the same thought I do, because all three of them have their weapons in hand as Dominic leads us toward the door to his house. He punches in a key code on the pad next to the door, shielding it with his body, then opens the door and steps inside.

Theo and Marcus go after him, with Victoria behind them and me and Ryland bringing up the rear. Ryland rests a hand on my lower back as we step inside, and I can feel the tension in him through that connection.

The house is old-looking, the furniture and moldings looking like they’re from the seventies or something, but I don’t really care. There’s no tangy scent of blood here, no dead bodies on the floor, so I’d consider it a vast improvement from our previous location.

“Make yourselves at home,” Dominic says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Bathroom’s down the hall. There’s only one bedroom, so…” He cuts a glance at me, and I can’t quite read his expression. “Guess the biggest group should get it.”

Victoria huffs an annoyed sounding breath, but I ignore it, trying to pretend that wasn’t a decent thing for Dominic to do. It’s hardly enough to make up for the fact that he kidnapped me and held me at gunpoint.

But he also helped us in the fight back at the other house.

I don’t know quite how he survived after Adrian’s man broke into the room, but he must’ve been ready and waiting for the guy. And instead of trying to run or joining our attackers, he chose our side. Again.

Fucking hell, Ayla. Stop trying to redefine his personality now that you know who he is. You can’t make him something he’s not.

I grimace, annoyed at myself, but Marcus just nods.

“Fine,” he says coolly. He strides into the living room and sets his laptop on a small table next to an over-sized chair. The rest of us follow him, and his gaze flicks up to Victoria. “How well do you know this hacker? You trust him?”

“Yes.” She nods, pulling her auburn hair out of the ponytail before smoothing it down and retying it. “And he’s no friend of Luca’s either. He’ll do what we need and won’t ask questions.”

“Will he pick up at this hour?”

She shrugs an elegant shoulder. “For me? Yes.”

Marcus rolls his eyes, jerking his chin to gesture her over as he flips his laptop open. As they discuss plans to send her hacker all the files Zee couldn’t crack, Ryland rests a hand on my shoulder.

I blink, and it takes serious force of will to get my eyes to open again. I’m dead on my feet, the lack of sleep and the exhaustion of an adrenaline crash making me feel groggy and fuzzy.

“You need to get some rest, Ayla,” Ryland murmurs. “Some real sleep. We won’t be able to do anything until Victoria’s guy comes back to us with whatever he’s able to decrypt. And then we’ll have to go through all of it. So you should sleep while you can.”

“What about you guys?” I lean back against him, my body melting into his.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against the bare skin of my back. “We’ll get sleep too. But you first.”

“We’ve got this, Rose,” Theo adds. Then he punches Ryland lightly on the shoulder. “You go with her. Marcus and I will get settled in here.”

Ryland looks like he wants to object, but I like the idea of at least one of the guys getting a break if they’re going to tell me to take one. We’ve all been through the same shit, and I know we’re all feeling the effects of it.

Taking Ryland’s hand, I shoot a questioning glance at Dominic.

He waves. “Down the hall. Second door on the right. There’s a bathroom across the hall.”

His body sways a little as he speaks, and my jaw clenches. Dom looks worse off than any of us. He barely got medical attention back at the other house, and he’s got to have a minor concussion and probably some whiplash too.

I hope he’s all right.

The thought rises up before I can stop it, and I don’t try to force it down this time. I just give him a nod of thanks and lead Ryland down the hall toward the bedroom.

CHAPTER 18

A LITTLE HAND, smaller than mine, grips my own.

“I don’t want to go, LaLa! Don’t make me go!”

My heart twists. I’m not making him go. Can’t he see that?

Shadowy figures crawl through the space around us, their large forms towering and imposing. They terrify me. Each one holds power over me just being a grown-up. By being so big when I’m so small.

I want to take Caleb and run from them, but there’s nowhere to go.

Why won’t one of them help me? Help him?

He grabs my other hand too, his blue eyes shining with tears as his lower lip quivers. “I don’t want to go. Please!”

I swallow, opening my mouth to speak, but my throat is clogged. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to make this right. The low hum of voices surrounds us, and I try to pick out the individual words, to figure out what a grown-up would say at a time like this, but I can’t.

So I just wrap my arms around Caleb and hold on to him, humming the tune I made up for when he gets scared of the dark.

It doesn’t help this time though.

He cries harder as he clings to me, his body shaking with it.

I hold him tighter, squeezing so tight that I feel him shrink in my embrace. He gets smaller and smaller until I’m not holding Caleb at all. I’m just clutching a beat-up stuffed elephant with one eye. It stares accusatorially at me as I look up, searching between the tall shadows for some hint of my brother.

“Caleb!” I scream. “Caleb!”

But he doesn’t answer.

He’s gone.

And when I look down, the elephant has vanished too.

“CALEB!”

I jerk upright, the cry tearing from my throat. Ryland startles awake beside me, sitting up and wrapping his arms around me as I gasp for breath.

I clutch his forearm where it rests against my chest, clinging to him like a lifeline as I claw my way out of visions that I hope like fuck aren’t memories.

Caleb.

Did he really cry in my arms? Did he beg me not to make him go?

Fuck.

“You all right? What is it?”

Ryland’s voice is rough from sleep, warm in my ear as he rests his chin on my shoulder. I don’t answer right away, just keep my tight grip on him as my heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

Gradually, I lean back, and he releases me to let me lie back down. Once we’re both lying down again, he rolls onto his side and pulls me close, sliding his fingers through my tangled hair as our heads rest on the same pillow.

I barely remember falling asleep, and I have no idea how long we were out. I feel marginally better than I did when we arrived at the house, but most of the benefit of the rest has been erased by the harsh awakening.

“You wanna talk about it?” Ryland’s hazel eyes are probing. The tattoos that crawl up his neck shift as he leans forward to press a kiss to my lips, as if he’s trying to coax words from them.

I let out a shaky breath. “I had a dream about Caleb. My brother.”

He already knows that name from Marcus, but he doesn’t know the rest of what I found out.

Understanding lights in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you have nightmares sometimes. I didn’t know that’s what they were about.”

My chest feels tight. I plow ahead quickly as he strokes his fingers over the inked skin of my amputated arm, trailing them down to just above my elbow and then back up.

“I’ve been having them more often lately. More vividly too. Ever since Marcus found out that name. And then…”

Fuck. It’s not any easier saying it the second time.

“What?” Ryland’s brows furrow.

“Last night, Dominic said something,” I murmur. “Something that made me think… he’s my brother.”

Ryland’s face freezes. Unlike Theo, he doesn’t have an overt reaction at first. Then he wraps his arm around me and rolls onto his back, pulling me with him so I’m draped over his body. His hands rest just above the curve of my ass as I rest my cheek against his chest. He doesn’t speak, just holds me there, molded against him.

Waiting.

Letting me decide what else to say.

“I’m fucked up about it,” I admit finally, letting the truth slip past my lips. “I spent years searching for my little brother, hoping and wishing to find him. And now I know he’s right down the hall, and I’m… I’m terrified to go talk to him. I’m terrified of how the fuck that conversation would go.”

Even now, I can hear soft voices coming from the living room. I wonder who’s speaking, and if they heard me yell out as I woke up. If Dominic heard me call out his old name, would he recognize it?

I sort of doubt it, but I lower my voice when I speak again anyway, as if trying to compensate for my earlier shout.

“The stupidest part is, I keep trying to create this version of him I want him to be, you know? Now that I know he’s my brother, I can’t look at him the same way. I feel like I’m trying to find things in him that aren’t there, trying to find honor or integrity when he’s already shown me he doesn’t have any.”

Ryland lets out a soft noise beneath me, and I lift my head, resting my chin on his chest so I can look at him.

“What?”

He shrugs, shifting beneath me. “He saved our lives last night.”

“Fuck.” I grimace. “That’s what Theo said too.”

“Theo knows?”

“Yeah. I ran into him in the hall right after I figured it out. He could tell something was wrong, and he needed to know I was okay. I haven’t had a chance to tell Marcus yet, but I will.”

Ryland nods, gazing up at me. “What did Theo say?”

“That Dom turned into an asshole because his ‘parents’ were assholes. And that it means something that he saved our lives.” I frown. “But that doesn’t make Dom a good person. People can do good things for purely fucked up reasons.”

A small smile tugs at Ryland’s lips, and his hands slip a little lower, pulling me tighter against him. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not a good person. Theo and Marcus aren’t exactly saints either.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s different.”

He purses his lips. “Yeah. In some ways. We never resorted to kidnapping. We have some lines we won’t cross, no matter what.”

Blowing out a small breath, I scrunch up my nose. “I guess I just wonder what Dominic… what Caleb could be like, if he had another chance. A fresh start.”

“Well, that’s what this is, in a way.” Ryland’s expression grows thoughtful. “He left his family. He bailed on the game. He has to know both of those things basically make him a loner with a target painted on his back. But he did them anyway.”

I let his words sink in for a moment, then lift my head and lean up to press a kiss to his lips. He drags me a little higher on his body, making it easier for our lips to connect as he drinks in my kiss like a man who’s spent a hundred days in the desert.

Drawing back, I brace myself on my good elbow, my nose brushing against his.

“You must really love me,” I murmur, “if you’re willing to even consider giving him a chance.”

“You know I do.” He lifts his head, stealing another kiss. Then he reaches up to cup my face, his hazel eyes turning deadly serious. “But I’d walk down the hall and put a bullet between his eyes if you told me to. Because I’m not a good person.”

I lean into his palm. “Well, maybe I’m not a good person either. Because I love you even more for that.”

I FEEL guilty staying in bed without sleeping when there’s so much shit to figure out and plan, so after a few more moments of basking in the feel of each other’s proximity, Ryland and I get up and head down the hall.

It turns out my worries about Dominic overhearing us were totally unfounded. He’s passed out on the couch, his head propped on one of the armrests and his legs sprawled over the cushions.

Something squeezes in my chest as I look down at him.

I’ve never seen him asleep before, and there’s a vulnerability in his features that isn’t usually there when he’s awake—at least, it hasn’t been there any time I’ve ever seen him, which admittedly isn’t that often.

He looks younger like this, and it occurs to me that’s probably partly because he is. I’m younger than all three of my men, and if Dominic is truly my brother, he’s even younger than me. How old was he when his adoptive parents signed him up for the game?

Did he have any say in the matter?

Did they feel any remorse for forcing someone else’s child to risk his life for their family legacy?

Anger rises up in me, but for the first time, it’s not anger at Dom. It’s anger at the assholes who called themselves his parents, who stole him away from me and lied to him his entire life.

I’m glad he walked away from them, even if it’s left him beat up and bloody, passed out on the couch of a safe house.

“Hey, Rose.” Theo grins at me from the large chair he’s sitting in, reaching up to pull me down for a kiss when I near him.

“Hey. Did you get some rest?”

He shrugs in a way that tells me he absolutely did not but doesn’t want to admit it because he knows I wouldn’t approve. Then he jerks his head toward the kitchen.

“Marcus and Victoria are in there. They got a call from her guy a little while ago. He should be sending stuff over soon.”

Excitement bubbles up inside me. “He was able to crack it?”

“Sounds like he got something, yeah.” Theo stretches, working out a kink in his neck. “Which means we need to start thinking about our next moves.”

“Hey.”

Victoria’s cool voice catches my attention as she steps out of the kitchen. She tosses a small duffel bag at me.

Ryland intercepts it, his hand flashing out to pluck it from the air. With a pointed glare at her, he hands it to me. She rolls her eyes at him, then glances my way, lifting her chin.

“I forgot I had that in my trunk. Figured you might want to get out of that dress.” She cocks her head at Ryland, a too-sweet smile on her face. “Sorry I don’t have any for you guys, but I don’t keep four sets of men’s clothes in my car.”

“I’ve got some stuff.” Dominic’s voice is groggy. He sits up slowly as I perch the duffel on the arm of Theo’s chair and unzip it, revealing a pair of jeans, a few tops, and a pair of shoes inside. He rubs his eyes, wincing as his fingers graze over the bruise on his forehead. “I’ve got extra weapons stored downstairs too.”

He rises to his feet, moving slowly as if he’s testing whether he can stand. I have to fight down the urge to go offer him an arm to lean on—if I suddenly start doing shit like that, he’ll know something is up.

Turning away from him, I glance at Victoria, lifting the duffel slightly. “Thanks for these. I’m gonna go rinse off and throw them on.”

I head back down the hall to the bathroom and drop the duffel on the floor. When I get a look at myself in the mirror, I grimace.

My once gorgeous gown is tattered and stained. My body isn’t much better off, with bruises decorating my pale skin and small streaks of blood drying a dark reddish brown. My blue-gray eyes are a little dull, with dark circles beneath them.

The simple updo I worked my hair into is completely demolished now, and my dark hair brushes my shoulders as I tug down the zipper on my dress. The fabric falls softly to the floor, and I step out of my heels and slide my panties off too before turning on the faucet in the bathtub.

The water runs a slightly brownish color from rust for a minute, and once it turns clear, I pull the small knob on the faucet to turn on the shower and step in.

Hot water pours down on me, the heated spray both soothing and painful. It relaxes my tight muscles and washes away the layer of grime that seems to cover my body, but it makes me intensely aware of every cut and bruise on my skin.

There’s a bottle of men’s body wash on a little shelf built into the wall, and I use it to lather my skin before massaging shampoo into my hair.

I don’t linger, taking only as long as I need to get clean. I turn the water all the way to cold before switching it off, letting out a muffled yelp at the sting of freezing water. But I feel more alert and much more like myself when I step out onto the smooth tile of the bathroom floor. There’s no bathmat, and I can only find one towel, so I use it as sparingly as I can.

Twisting my hair to wring it out, I leave it to air dry and tug on my panties before pulling on the jeans Victoria brought me. I hate to rewear anything from last night, but I’d rather stick to the same set of panties than go commando in Victoria’s clothes.

I tug the tank top on, then slip on the shoes, glancing at myself in the mirror again. We’re not an exact size match, but at least our feet are close to the same size. Her clothes fit me well enough, and I look somewhat human again.

As I’m wadding up the dress into a ball around my fist, preparing to throw it in the trash, someone raps sharply on the door.

“Angel.” Marcus’s voice is muffled by the wood, but I can hear the intensity in it anyway. “We found something.”

CHAPTER 19

MY HAND CLENCHES TIGHTLY on the fabric of my ruined dress. Then I quickly unwind it and drop it to the floor, already striding toward the door. I’ll deal with it later.

I wrench the door open and meet Marcus in the hallway, keeping pace with him as he heads back toward the front of the house. Everyone’s gathered in the small kitchen, crowded around Marcus’s beat-up laptop.

Ryland is directly in front of it, but he moves over to make room for me as Marcus and I join him.

“What did you find?” I ask, scanning the damaged screen quickly.

“Everything.” Theo sounds smug as fuck, and when I look at him, he grins at me. “He had this shit well-encrypted for a reason. It’s the connection between him and the Viper, all the little pieces he couldn’t hide. Offshore accounts where he hid the money coming in from the Viper’s activity, the names of intermediaries he used to keep from ever having to directly touch the Viper’s business. It’s enough that if we put this shit out in the world, only a fucking moron wouldn’t make the connection.”

I glance from him to Ryland, then over to Marcus, hope swelling in my chest like someone pumped it full of helium. “So that’s it then. We have it. Do we send it to Gabriel and Michael? Try to get it out more widely than that?”

“That’s what we need to decide.” Marcus leans against the kitchen counter, his long legs stretching out as he crosses one ankle over the other. His fingers brush absently over the tattoos on his knuckles.

“Why wouldn’t we want to?” My brows furrow. “Don’t we need to tell them the truth to get them off our backs?”

Ryland grunts, stepping away from the computer and grabbing a chair from the small table that sits against one wall. He spins it on one leg so it’s facing backward, then straddles it, resting his forearms on the back. “Gabriel and Michael are both mafia. Two of the most powerful families in Halston besides Luca. Their organizations exist with Luca’s blessing and permission, but that doesn’t mean they're not powerful in their own right.”

“Isn’t that good? If we get them on our side, we’d have that much more firepower against Luca.” I shove my hand into the pocket of my borrowed jeans, glancing around the kitchen.

Dominic and Victoria turn away from the computer too, facing the rest of us.

“Well, they’d go up against Luca, almost definitely,” Theo says with a shrug. “Whether they’d be on our side or not? That’s a bigger question. If they decide to take on Luca, they’ll both still be gunning for ultimate control of Halston. It’d be a bloody fucking gang war that would infect every corner of the city.”

My skin chills a bit. Having been chased down a dark road by both Gabriel and Michael, I have a pretty good idea how vicious they can be. And the idea of innocent people getting caught up in the crossfire turns my stomach. None of these men asked to be part of this bullshit, and neither did the other people who’ll end up getting hurt if a turf war breaks out.

“So what other option do we have?”

“We don’t tell Gabriel and Michael. We don’t tell anyone the details of what we know except Luca.” Marcus’s runs his hand over his jaw, where the shadow of stubble darkens his complexion slightly.

My eyes fly wide at his suggestion, but it doesn’t take me long to figure out what he means. “Blackmail.”

He nods. “We give him the option—retire like he promised he was going to, step down from ruling his empire, or we unleash the dogs of war on him. He’ll either take the deal or he won’t. If he doesn’t, then we follow through on our threat and spread the word far and wide.”

“So you blackmail him into upholding the terms of the game,” Victoria says slowly, her eyes narrowing. “In that case, he has to declare a winner. Who do you propose it be?”

“Marcus,” Theo says immediately. Ryland nods.

Marcus doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Victoria as she stares at him for a long moment.

Then, quick as a snake striking, he straightens and pulls his gun from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at Victoria’s head.

“Think twice before you do that,” he says quietly.

She uncurls her fingers from the grip of her own gun, which is hidden at the small of her back, tucked into her waistband beneath her shirt. I didn’t think she was still armed, but it occurs to me that maybe she had it in the same go-bag where the clothes were.

My stomach tightens. We should’ve kept a closer eye on her. I should have. I’m the one who convinced the guys to give her a chance to help us. And the first thing she did after we arrived here was sneak back to her car and grab a weapon.

Luckily, although she moved fast, she's not as fast as Marcus.

Her hand still hovering a few inches from the black metal of her gun’s grip, Victoria glares at him, her jaw clenching.

“There’ll be room for you and your family to keep operating as you have been,” Marcus tells her evenly. “Room for expansion, even. We won’t interfere with any part of your business, and Ayla already gave you her word that Jaden will be safe. That’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

Victoria doesn’t move for several long beats, her gaze locked with Marcus’s as she considers her options.

It strikes me suddenly how similar the two of them are—both strong-willed and intense, both passionate and determined. In another life, in another world, maybe their engagement wouldn’t have been a sham.

A ridiculous surge of jealousy rises up in me at the thought, and I shove it down.

Marcus doesn’t want her.

He wants me.

He wants me so much that he dragged me into a dingy bedroom and made me come on his fingers just to prove that I’m his and he’s mine. That he doesn’t want anything Victoria has to offer. That he was accepting her help only because I asked.

He dragged me into that room to make sure I knew he loved me.

And it was exactly what I needed.

It’s not exactly hearts and roses, but I’ve never gone for that shit anyway.

The silence stretches out for another long moment. Then Victoria’s gaze darts to Dominic. “You okay with this?”

He shrugs, looking exhausted. “Yeah. I don’t fucking want it.”

She narrows her eyes a little disdainfully, as if surprised he’d give up so quickly. I am too, honestly.

A flicker of concern passes through me. Maybe he hit his head harder than we thought. I feel a lot better after sleeping for a while, but it doesn’t seem to have helped Dominic any. He still looks pretty awful.

Victoria’s lips press together, forming a hard line. Then she shakes her head. “No. Luca can declare you the winner for the sake of appearances, but once he hands over power—if we actually get him to do it—then we split control of the city. Fifty-fifty.”

Marcus chuckles darkly. “Not a fucking chance. We’ll split it six ways.” He glances at Dominic. “Unless you were serious about not wanting it?”

Dominic’s eyebrows rise a little, a look of interest passing over his face. He straightens, looking more alert. “No. I’m interested.”

“So you three and her”—Victoria gestures toward me—“get two-thirds control?”

“Yes.” Marcus doesn’t even hesitate. He adjusts his grip on his gun slightly. “That’s my final offer.”

I find myself holding my breath as I wait for her response. I could easily see her insisting on half, or even trying to push for more than that. But how badly does she want it?

Marcus is offering her a chance at peace, a chance at power, a chance to protect the man she loves—all without spilling another drop of blood.

Please fucking take it.

As if she’s somehow heard my internal plea, Victoria finally nods and raises her hand, holding it up and away from her gun.

“All right. Six ways.”

The flood of relief almost makes me dizzy, but I keep my face as impassive as the men do. Marcus nods, lowering his weapon, although he doesn’t make any move to set it down or put it away.

“That means we need to set up a meeting with Luca,” Victoria says smoothly, brushing past the fact that we’ve all narrowly avoided a shootout. “In person. He won’t do this any other way.”

“We need some kind of neutral territory then. Somewhere he won’t just march in and fucking shoot us.” Theo grimaces. “All the neutral ground I know of in Halston is only neutral because Luca declared it so. It’d be safe to meet someone else there maybe, but not him.”

“I know where.” Victoria’s has a bitter edge. “The one place he won’t do violence.”

“Where?” I ask.

She meets my gaze, her expression hard. “His wife’s grave.”

I almost choke on my next breath. That wasn’t what I was expecting her to say at all. I imagined she’d suggest some building downtown or someplace, in one of the few places left in Halston that’s controlled by someone other than Luca.

“His wife’s… grave?”

“He considers it sacrosanct.” She shrugs. “Even more than his home. He won’t attack us there, I’m sure of it. Not unless we shoot first.”

“How do you know this?” Marcus sounds suspicious, and I can’t help but notice that his finger is still resting on the trigger of his gun.

The bitterness in her voice deepens. “Jaden told me. Luca made him come along for a negotiation once, and that was the location that was chosen. Luca loved his wife more than anything. Everyone in Halston knows it. Luca was pissed that the buyer picked that as a meeting place specifically because he doesn’t want to tarnish her memory with blood.”

“No, he just wants to see blood spilled everywhere else,” I mutter.

Victoria cuts me a sharp look, but I’m pretty sure the anger in her eyes isn’t directed at me. It’s all meant for Luca.

“It makes sense,” I tell the guys, stepping forward. “We already know how devoted he was to his wife. Losing her wrecked him, but after reading that letter he wrote, it doesn’t surprise me that he considers her burial site sacred ground. She was everything to him.”

Ryland nods slowly, seeming to mull the implications of Victoria’s suggestion over in his mind. “We can do it tonight. Leave here just after dusk and get into position before we contact Luca. Besides being neutral ground, it’s not a bad place for this kind of thing. Gravestones will provide some cover, and I’m sure it’s not well lit. If shit does hit the fan, there are worse places to be.”

“All right.” Marcus nods, finally slipping his gun back into his waistband.

He steps forward and holds out his hand, and although his jaw is clenched so tight that the muscles in his cheek stand out starkly, he keeps his expression neutral as he waits for Victoria to accept.

Thank fuck, she doesn’t make him wait. Her smaller hand swings out to grasp his, and they shake. Once.

That’s all it is, but it’s enough.

“I’ve got some weapons and ammo stashed in the basement,” Dom says, smoothing his unruly dark hair. “Nothing fancy, but it’ll give us more firepower than we have now.”

“Good.” Marcus glances over at my brother. “Show us. Then whoever hasn’t slept yet should get some rest. We’ve still got at least five hours until sunset, so we should make the most of it.”

Our impromptu meeting in the kitchen breaks up, and the men follow Dom down to the basement to grab the extra weapons.

That leaves me alone with Victoria in the kitchen, and I shift uncomfortably as I glance at her. I may be willing to accept her as an ally, but we’re a far fucking cry from being friends.

Still, I find myself respecting her. Yes, she tried to blackmail Marcus into marrying her, but she’s relinquished her claim. She gave it up as soon as she realized the game was an illusion, and I have to respect how fast she’s adapted to an assault of new information.

She could’ve held on to old grudges or clung to her initial plan, but instead, she accepted the chance to work with us to take Luca down.

She even accepted just one sixth of the prize she thought she was fighting for.

This whole time, she hasn’t been playing the same game as anyone else. Her game has had one objective and one objective only.

To save Jaden.

It’s harder to hate her when I know she’s capable of the kind of love that makes a person willingly walk into hell. It’s hard to hate her when I see the same thing in her eyes that I feel in mine when I look at my men.

Fierce, protective, consuming love.

But that doesn’t mean I have any idea how to make small talk with her.

Fortunately, she saves me from having to worry about that by gesturing me over as she turns to the laptop.

“Come here. I’ll show you the layout of the cemetery. It’s the biggest one in Halston, so there are a few entrances and exits. I only have a general idea of where his wife’s headstone is, but I know there’s a giant angel statue above it, so it shouldn’t be hard to find.”

She taps a few keys and pulls up the website for the graveyard, clicking on a map that shows the network of single-lane roads that crisscross the large area. Then she points to a spot on the screen, presumably where Luca’s wife is buried.

“There.” She glances sideways at me, grinning slightly. “Seems fitting, doesn’t it? Under the statue of an angel, we’ll have a meeting with the devil.”

CHAPTER 20

THE REST of the daylight hours seem to fly by.

I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand, I’m anxious as fuck to get this over with already. I’m more nervous about our meeting with Luca tonight than I was about going to his party, and that’s saying something.

On the other hand, these last few hours before we leave seem precious. They’re the last hours that I know we’ll all be alive, that we’ll all be together and safe.

Whenever I let myself think about that too hard, I have an almost overwhelming urge to grab all three of the guys, drag them into the bedroom, and tell Victoria and Dominic to fuck off while I rip my men’s clothes off. But as desperate as I am to feel that connection with them, to revel in the fact that we’re all still alive, I know they’re as beat-up and exhausted as I am. And as tempting as an orgy sounds right now, it’s probably the worst possible way to prepare for a showdown with Halston’s most dangerous criminal kingpin.

So I just busy myself trying to prepare for tonight.

I fit the thigh holster to my leg over my borrowed jeans. It’s no longer hidden like it was under the dress, but subtlety hardly seems like it’s the goal anymore.

Victoria and I show the guys the ideas we came up with for where to enter the cemetery and how to arrange ourselves for the meeting with Luca. We also make contingency plans and map out where the biggest mausoleums are—anything that will provide the most cover.

After that, everyone splits up to either rest or shower.

And then, before I know it, the shadows are deepening and the light coming through the windows is turning golden with the approaching sunset.

We’re out of time.

And I’m not fucking ready.

The sun sinks even farther, and when it’s close to dark outside, Victoria peers out the window and gives a satisfied nod. She turns to look at the rest of us, who’ve all gathered in the living room.

“Let’s load out.”

My heart immediately picks up in my chest, a wash of adrenaline flooding me. My stomach tightens, clenching hard around the fast food Theo and Ryland ducked out to pick up earlier.

I know I needed to eat, but in this moment I kind of wish I hadn’t, because I might be about to barf it all back up.

Theo reaches down to me, taking my hand and helping me to my feet. But instead of leading me toward the door to the garage, he pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around me.

Then he drops his head and kisses me.

It’s soft, but there’s an urgency behind it that makes my toes curl. I feel every single emotion that’s crashing around in my chest reflected in Theo’s kiss, as if he’s trying to stamp this moment in time, make a marker we can always return to. As if he’s trying to preserve our love for eternity.

The kiss deepens and builds, and I don’t give even half a shit if Dominic and Victoria are staring.

I know my other men are.

I can feel their gazes burning into us, feel the need that rises in them as they watch us and the hungry patience as they wait for me to come to them.

And I do.

Of course I do.

When Theo and I finally break apart, he kisses me softly on the nose and then releases me. My legs feel a little jelly-like as I turn toward Ryland. He steps forward to meet me, slipping one arm around my back while his other brushes a small strand of hair away from my face. I borrowed a hair tie from Victoria and pulled my dark locks back into a messy ponytail after they dried.

After securing the stray piece of hair behind my ear, Ryland trails his fingers gently over the curve of my cheek, his touch so reverent it makes me shiver. Then he grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger, using that hold to tilt my head up before he claims my lips in a hot kiss.

I fucking love when he kisses me like this.

When I can feel the urgency in him.

The violent desire.

I don’t just let it wash over me. I rise up to meet it, going up onto my tiptoes as I sweep my tongue against his, looping my arm around his neck to anchor myself to him as the storm rages inside us both.

His fingers dig into my back, his large palms moving over me roughly, pulling me even closer.

It doesn’t end softly, just like it didn’t begin softly. Instead, we tear our lips apart, both breathing heavily. For a second, his grip on me tightens even more, making it impossible to breathe. Then he releases me and steps back, a look of hard determination crossing his face.

I know that look. That determination.

I feel it inside myself too.

Marcus is there before I even have to look for him, the heat of his body warming my back as he steps up behind me. He turns me in his arms, not even bothering to pull me away from Ryland. I end up practically sandwiched between them as Marcus gazes down at me.

Brown and blue.

Earth and air.

It’s hard to remember a time when those eyes and the man behind them didn’t own a piece of my soul.

Maybe it’s because such a time never existed. Maybe Marcus held a piece of my soul before I ever met him. Before I saved his life. Before he saved mine.

I rest my hand on his chest, trapped between our bodies as he holds me in his embrace. His heart is beating hard and fast, but steady. Sure.

I nod, holding his gaze.

Truthfully, I’m not quite sure what I’m trying to tell him with this nod. All I know is that what I’m feeling is too big for words.

But I want him to know that I’m here with him. That I would go anywhere with him. And that no matter what happens tonight, I won’t regret a single moment of the time he, Theo, and Ryland were in my life.

“I’m not done, angel,” he murmurs quietly. “We’re not done.”

Then he kisses me.

It’s warm and languid, slow and deep. A promise that matches his words. A promise of more.

The room seems to dim around me, fading away as I lose myself in the perfect feel of Marcus’s lips on mine. I can still taste Theo and Ryland on my tongue, can still smell their lingering, distinctive scents, and it does more to soothe my nerves than any calming words ever could.

We’re together.

That’s how we’ll face this threat.

And that’s how we’ll win.

When our lips separate, Marcus rests his forehead on mine for a moment, then steps back. The rest of the room comes flooding back into my awareness, and I catch sight of Victoria standing in the door to the living room, her arms crossed.

“You done?” she asks, arching a brow.

I don’t even bother blushing. Instead, I just shrug. “For now.”

Theo laughs, and Victoria rolls her eyes. I think Dominic is blushing a little, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

Shit. If he knew I was his sister, he’d probably be red as a tomato.

I shove thoughts of brotherly protectiveness aside and step toward Victoria. “Let’s go.”

She leads the way to the garage, and we all pile into her car. It’s less awkward this time since I don’t have a dress hampering my movements, but it’s still a tight fit.

It’s the only option we have though, and I feel better sticking together. Not that I don’t entirely trust the other two, but… well, I don’t entirely trust them. I’d rather have eyes on them at all times until this is over.

Marcus sits up front again, although he’s not brandishing his gun like he’s thinking of putting a bullet in Victoria’s head this time. That’s progress, I guess.

The cemetery is on Halston’s west side, only a few miles from my old apartment. I’ve walked by the sprawling graveyard once or twice but have never actually entered the grounds.

It’s fully dark by the time we arrive, and Marcus slips out of the car smoothly and walks up to the gate. He uses a pair of bolt cutters to break the chain that holds the two sides of the wrought-iron gate closed as Victoria lets the engine idle quietly. He gives the gate a shove, and it swings open.

With an easy stride, he returns to the car and climbs back into the passenger seat. “All right. Let’s go.”

Grinning fiercely, Victoria rolls through the open gate.

There are a few streetlamps spaced along the winding road that takes us deeper into the cemetery, but they’re dimmer than the streetlights that illuminate the roads outside.

Headstones and statues create formless dark shadows on either side of the narrow path, reminding me eerily of the tall shadowy people in my dreams.

From studying the layout of the place earlier, I know we’re heading west, toward the far side of the cemetery where Genevieve’s gravestone is located. After several minutes, Victoria pulls over to the side of the road, her car bouncing a little over the uneven grass and dirt. She stops and turns the headlights off, plunging us into even deeper darkness.

“It should be somewhere up there. Genevieve D’Addario. With an angel carved of white marble hovering over her.”

Theo gives my ass a squeeze as Dominic opens his door and climbs out, and I shoot him a grin, grinding my ass against his crotch a little before I follow my brother out of the car.

The night air feels cool after the cramped confines of the car, and I rub my damaged arm as goose bumps crawl over my skin, making the nerves in my stump prickle. The tightness of the thigh holster strapped to my leg is a comforting feeling. Reassuring, somehow.

The guys grab a few pieces of gear from the trunk before we start moving forward on foot.

It takes us several minutes of searching, but we locate the statue at least a dozen yards away from the little road. The marble angel looms out of the darkness, its white wings bright even in the dim light.

We gather just below it, in front of the headstone that bears Genevieve’s name. I shift my weight from foot to foot, feeling almost superstitious about treading on her grave like this. I can see why Luca considers it sacred ground.

Let’s just hope he’ll honor that tonight.

Marcus pulls out his phone, his thumbs flying across the screen as he quickly types out a message. Then he looks up, the lower part of his face lit by the soft blue glow of the screen.

“It’s done. He got the message, and he knows where we are. Now we just wait to see if he’ll come.”

If I thought waiting all day for sunset to arrive was torture, it’s nothing compared to the wait for Luca. The chilly air seems to grow colder, and I find myself staring at the shadows of gravestones as if I expect Luca to materialize from behind one of them like a demon in the night.

When he finally arrives, it’s the slight crunch of wheels on gravel that alert us to his presence.

Instantly, all three of my men have their weapons trained in the direction of the sound.

The crunching noise stops, and a moment later, a door closes with a soft thud. I didn’t even hear the engine at all. Whatever car Luca drives, it’s fancy and expensive enough to run without a whisper.

My eyes have adjusted to the dark as well as they’re going to, but it’s still hard to make out Luca’s face as he approaches us from the direction of the road. It’s not until he’s within a few yards of us that I can make out the sharp, hawklike cut of his features.

He stops before he reaches us, folding his hands behind his back as he lifts his chin, surveying our small, motley group.

“Well.” He makes a tsk noise with his teeth. “This is disappointing.”

“No one’s more disappointed than we are,” Marcus shoots back, his voice just as bland as Luca’s.

I realize with a start why Theo and Ryland both voted immediately for him to be the one to accept the prize, if we can convince Luca to step down. He’s good at this. He’s made for it.

Luca and his fucking game shaped Marcus into who he is today.

And now Marcus is going to take him down.

“The game is over, obviously.” Luca shrugs. “Too many of you know for it to continue.” He frowns, glancing over at Victoria. “I’m surprised to see you here. I’ve heard stories about you, and I know how vicious you can be. I didn’t think you’d give them a chance to speak before you killed them.”

“It wasn’t exactly voluntary.” Her voice drips ice as she addresses Luca, her gaze focused on him like a laser.

“Ah. I see.”

He doesn’t even glance at Dominic, and I feel a stab of anger in my chest. He’s dismissed the other man outright, and it makes me think Dominic wasn’t wrong that Luca might’ve been about to kick him out of the game before everything went to hell.

“We didn’t call you here to chat, and that sure as fuck isn’t why you came,” Marcus says. “We know you’re the Viper. That you’ve been lying to all twelve families who volunteered their heirs for the chance to succeed you. That you’ve been lying to everyone else you do business with in Halston. You’ve been double-crossing them, making deals with them as both Luca and Viper. Cheating them. If we share what we know, there’ll be an uprising. One not even you can put down.”

Luca’s eyes glint in the darkness. “You don’t know that.”

“I know that if you wanted a war, you would’ve started one already.” Marcus adjusts his grip on his weapon. “You wouldn’t have played this elaborate fucking game. You wanted us to suffer. You wanted other parents to lose their children. Well, you’ve done that. Do you want more innocent people to die in a war you could prevent? Is that what Genevieve would want?”

The older man’s body jerks as if Marcus hit him with a physical blow. “Do not say her name.”

Marcus dips his head, the only sign of respect I’ve seen him give the man since he arrived. Maybe it’s because he has some inkling of the pain raging in Luca’s chest. “All right. But my question stands. If every criminal organization in Halston comes for you, you won’t survive it. None of them may be as powerful as you, but if they all decide you’re the common enemy, how do you think that will go? You could fight that fight. Or you could walk away and live. Step down like you promised you would, name me the winner, and transfer your power peacefully.”

“You?” Luca’s eyes narrow, then he glances at the rest of us. “You’ve all agreed to that?”

“Yes.”

It’s Victoria who speaks for us, and the conviction in her voice surprises me, considering how she reacted when Theo nominated Marcus. Then again, that’s not the actual plan. No one has mentioned to Luca that we’ll all be dividing up his empire if he agrees to step down, and I see no reason to.

He probably wouldn’t believe us anyway. His entire game was based on the idea of pitting people against each other with one winner to lord over all the rest—if any of the others were even left alive.

Luca’s expression grows thoughtful. “You know, I have enjoyed watching the game unfold much more than I thought I would. I found myself getting reports from my men after the battle or watching you all at one of my parties and contemplating which one of you would do the best job in my stead.” He laughs softly. “I actually found myself believing my own lie. Imagining what would happen if I did step down and allow one of you to take my place.”

A small flicker of hope dances in my chest, like a candle flame in the wind.

Is he actually thinking about accepting our offer?

I hoped that the threat of an uprising might convince him, but I’m not even sure that’s what’s got him thinking. He sounds almost wistful as he talks, and I believe what he said about falling for his own lie.

Whether he meant to or not, and regardless of how sick and twisted his reasons for starting the game were, he’s become invested in the players. And knowing what the five people standing beside me have been through—having witnessed some of it myself—it’s easy to see that all of them have the strength and courage to lead an empire.

Luca opens his mouth again, and I pray he’s about to tell Marcus he’ll name him the winner. My body tenses in anticipation, but before he can speak, something catches my eye.

Ryland is standing to my left, and a little red dot travels across his shoulder, sliding over onto his chest.

My stomach drops.

I catch his arm and yank him downward, throwing myself to the ground and dragging him with me as a chunk of the marble statue above Genevieve’s grave explodes outward.

“Sniper!” I scream.

CHAPTER 21

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

“You son of a bitch!”

Theo and Marcus drop to the ground too, cursing at Luca.

My first thought is that the criminal kingpin must’ve brought a team with him to take us out. But as another bullet hits the gravestone behind me, I catch a glimpse of the older man’s face.

He wasn’t expecting this.

It’s not his men.

“Gabriel and Michael!” I shout, army crawling awkwardly across the cool grass as a quick series of shots pings off the stone.

“Fuck.” Marcus curses, ducking behind the base of the angel statue and dragging me into cover with him.

“Those cocksuckers,” Ryland grunts. “They’re still trying to win the game.”

He’s right. They’re shooting at us, but it seems like they’re shooting at each other too, probably trying to pick each other off before they kill us and claim their “prize.”

My heart slams against my ribs as I yank the gun from my thigh holster. Maybe we should’ve told them what we knew, but if we had, they would’ve gone after Luca tooth and nail, and we’d still be caught in the crossfire.

So much for ending this peacefully.

Luca ducks to the side as more bullets fly through the air. I don’t think either of the mafia men are shooting at him, but he’s still in danger of getting hit by the crossfire.

“We need to take those fucking snipers out,” Marcus grunts, his back pressed against the base of the looming angel statue as he peers around the edge of it.

The darkness is both a blessing and a curse, and I squint and duck as another shot rings out. A flare of light in the trees to my right catches my eye, and I nudge Marcus in the ribs, jerking my head. “There.”

He glances in the direction I’m indicating, and I can just make out a whisper of movement in the darkness. Someone is out there. I don’t know if it’s Michael or Gabriel, but it doesn’t really matter.

Marcus presses a hard kiss to my lips. His lips taste like violence and chaos, and they’re gone far too quickly.

“Stay here,” he murmurs. “Don’t move. We’ll take them out.”

“Ry and I will take those motherfuckers.” Theo points in another direction, where the second group of attackers hides among the trees and gravestones. “We’ll flank them.”

“I’m going with you,” Victoria tells Marcus, drawing a second weapon and shifting into a crouch.

He looks like he’s about to object, but before he can open his mouth, a bullet hits the statue, sending bits of marble and dust spraying. He nods once, sharply, then shoots a look at Dominic. “Don’t go any-fucking-where.”

I know what he’s telling the man, can hear the warning beneath his words. Don’t leave Ayla.

It’s a mark of how fucked we are that he’s even willing to consider leaving me with Dom. But if those snipers aren’t stopped, they’ll close in on us soon and kill us all.

Still, as Ryland and Theo dart away from the base of the statue, using gravestones for cover, I can’t help but remember the last time we all split up. An awful feeling of dread twists in my stomach as I remember the standoff Marcus and I had with Carson. I remember not knowing if Ryland and Theo were even still alive, waking up covered in Marcus’s blood.

I can’t let that happen again.

I know they want to protect me, but I have to protect them too.

Marcus and Victoria sprint across the grass, firing into the darkness of the graveyard as they go. Another shot hits the angel statue, and I peer around the base, scanning the area near Genevieve’s grave.

I catch sight of Luca, still taking cover behind a headstone, and a second later, new gunshots ring out with a pop, pop, pop sound. They’re coming from the direction of the small road where he left his car.

So he did bring some backup after all.

And I’m sure his guards will be only too happy to kill anyone in this graveyard, whether it’s us or the assholes shooting at us from the cover of darkness.

One of Luca’s men gets tagged in the shoulder, and I have a moment of gratitude that they’re at least drawing Michael and Gabriel’s fire. That might give my men a chance to find the snipers and take them out.

Shouts rise up from nearby, and I pick out Ryland’s deep voice among them. Then more gunshots sound.

I peer around the statue’s base again. Luca’s men have reached him, and they lay down cover fire as he gets to his feet.

Fuck. We can’t let him walk away from this. We need to end it. Tonight.

Without stopping to think about what I’m doing or allow the panic welling inside me to take hold, I shift into a crouch, leaning farther around the side of the statue as I aim toward the group of guards that surround Luca.

My first bullet goes wide, but the second hits a man in the back. He goes down, and the remaining three pivot smoothly, raising their guns to fire back at me.

“Shit!” I throw myself behind the statue again, breathing hard, my heart slamming against my ribs. I turn to Dominic. “We can’t let him leave. We have to fucking stop him.”

He nods, his face grim in the darkness.

Then he surges to his feet, stepping around the side of the statue and firing at Luca’s guards. As they return fire, I dart out again and hit another one—the same guard that got shot in the shoulder by Gabriel or Michael’s sniper. He goes down, and he doesn’t get back up.

Two more.

Just two more.

Luca is shooting back at us too, and I can hear his angry bellow over the sounds of the fights playing out to my left and right. All I can do is pray silently that Marcus, Theo, and Ryland are still fucking alive as I focus all my energy on stopping Luca.

Another guard goes down, taken out by Dominic, and Luca whips toward him, firing off three rapid shots.

Dom’s body jerks. He lets out a low grunt and falls backward, crashing to the grassy earth that surrounds the graves.

My heart seems to stop beating for a second, bile crawling up my throat as I look over at his body sprawled awkwardly on the ground.

Three shots.

Why is it always three gunshots?

My scars prickle painfully, and I crawl over to Dominic, grabbing one of his legs and pulling him back behind the cover of the statue’s base. His face looks blurry in the darkness, and I realize with a start that’s because tears are welling in my eyes.

“Dominic? Dominic!” My fingers slide over his neck, feeling desperately for a pulse. “Caleb!”

His eyes flutter open. His features are shadowing in the dim light, but moonlight gleams in his eyes as he looks up at me. A trickle of blood trails from the corner of his mouth, and I can’t tell if it’s because he bit his tongue when he went down or for a far worse reason.

“We have to stop him,” he murmurs, the words choppy and broken. “We can’t… let him go.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. Luca is probably making his way to his car right now, and if he leaves the cemetery, we’ll never get another chance to end this. Not without an all-out war.

But blood is pouring from the wound in Dominic’s chest, and I don’t know where else he got hit. I don’t know how long he has.

He needs pressure on the bullet wound. He needs a fucking doctor. He needs—

Dom pushes my hand away roughly as I try to press it to his chest. “Don’t,” he rasps. “Just… stop him.”

My skin feels cold, even though I can feel sweat trickling down my back. I don’t have time to decide. Time to think.

He shoves me again, the movement forceful even though the strength behind it is weak. “Go!”

I grab his hand, squeezing it so hard it makes my own hand ache. “Do not fucking die. I’m not losing my brother again.”

Then I snatch up my gun from where I dropped it on the grass, sliding my finger over the trigger as I scramble over to peer around the statue again.

I was right. Luca is about to escape. I catch a glimpse of him and his remaining bodyguard sprinting the remaining distance to his car, and my heart lurches.

Gunshots and shouts still ring out from the cemetery around me, and I hope like hell that all of Gabriel and Michael’s people are otherwise occupied—and that my men managed to take out their snipers already. Saying a prayer to whatever god might be listening, I grip my weapon and sprint across the grass, keeping my head ducked low.

I hear the thud of car doors and see the taillights of Luca’s car as it starts. Before I reach it, it speeds off down the road.

Shit.

My mind races, flashing back to the maps of the cemetery I studied earlier in the day. The network of roads that crisscross the large space are designed to give people access to their loved ones’ graves, but none of the roads cut straight through. They all take winding, circuitous routes.

If Luca is heading for the south entrance, maybe there’s a chance I can cut him off.

CHAPTER 22

I DON’T PAUSE to debate the wisdom of my plan. I don’t stop to give myself time to think of all the ways it could fail.

When I reach the spot where Luca’s car was, I just keep running, sprinting across the road into the darkness of the cemetery beyond. If I’m remembering the map right, the entrance should be directly south of where we are now, but Luca and his guard will have to drive around in a wide arc before cutting over to the road that will lead them out of the graveyard. They can’t cut across the grass because the headstones are placed too close together to allow a car to pass through.

Air drags in and out of my lungs, the gun locked tight in my grip and my ruined arm pumping as furiously as my whole one. My foot catches on a tree root, and I almost go sprawling, recovering my balance at the last second. Gravestones and statues loom out of the darkness ahead of me like ghosts in the night, and I dart around them. The edge of one wide and narrow headstone catches the side of my knee, and I grunt as pain flares.

But I don’t stop running.

This is our last chance.

I left my men behind to do this.

I left my brother behind.

I won’t fucking fail.

Finally, the tall entrance gates of the cemetery come into view, the ornate metal-work looking beautiful and imposing. The gates are hanging open, and for a second, I think I’ve missed Luca entirely. I step partway through the gate, my heart beating hard as I peer out onto the desolate street beyond.

Did he get out already? Or did he not even come this way?

Then the sound of tires on gravel draws my attention, and I see Luca’s car barreling toward the open gate. Toward me. His headlights are off to keep from drawing attention, but it gives me the opening I need.

Without the light blinding me, I can see into the car, and I take aim and fire. The windshield cracks with the first shot, and I shoot two more times, finally penetrating the thick glass. The car lurches sideways slightly, and I throw myself out of the way as it bears down on me.

It’s still aiming for the opening in the wall where the gates are swung wide, but the slight change in trajectory means it misses.

With a loud crunch, it hits the massive stone wall that borders the cemetery. The sound rises up like a thunderclap, accompanied by the screech of metal crumpling.

The sound fades away, and I scramble to my feet in the sudden overwhelming silence. The front of the car is crushed up against the wall, and several of the wall’s massive stones have been shoved out of place.

With a grating squeal, the driver’s side door opens. Luca’s bodyguard stumbles out, blood pouring down the side of his head. He raises his gun as he catches sight of me, but before he can fire, I squeeze the trigger of my own gun twice. Both shots hit him, and he wheels backward, collapsing to the ground.

I don’t know how many bullets I have left, but I know it’s not many. Darting forward, I kick the heavy gun out of his flaccid grip and then drop my own weapon to pick it up. It feels too-big and unfamiliar in my hand, but I grip it tightly anyway and straighten up.

Cautiously, I make my way around the car’s trunk, keeping my head ducked as I peer around the side of the car.

My heart jerks in my chest.

Luca’s door is open. I didn’t hear the same screech of metal as when the bodyguard opened his door, so the hinge must not’ve gotten as damaged on this side.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where is he?

Blood rushes in my ears, and I strain to hear past it, to focus on my surroundings instead of the cold grip of fear curling around my heart.

Where the fuck is he?

I whirl around, keeping my arm locked out and my finger on the trigger of my new weapon, scanning the darkness desperately.

Come on, motherfucker. Come on.

A small sound to one side of me draws my attention, and my head whips to the right, my gun following the movement until I’m face-to-face with Luca.

He’s standing less than two yards away, his own gun pointed at me. In his black suit, he's almost indistinguishable from the darkness around him, and his face is set in angry lines.

“I heard about what you did,” he says, his voice strained and tight. “All those years ago. The way you saved Marcus’s life. I never understood why you did it, but it drew out the game, so I didn’t mind.” He shakes his head, taking a step closer to me. “I should’ve known then that you’d be trouble. I should’ve sent someone to finish the job.”

I don’t answer. My hand is trembling slightly, my finger caressing the trigger.

How fast am I?

How fast is he?

As if sensing my thoughts, he lifts his weapon a little, a scowl twisting his features. “Drop it. Right now.”

My throat tightens as I swallow. “This is over, Luca. It has to be.”

“I agree. Drop your fucking weapon.”

He’ll kill me if I do. I know it. But if I don’t, he’s going to shoot me anyway, and I don’t know what the odds are that I’ll be able to hit him before he hits me.

Luca takes another step forward, closing the space between us even more. The barrels of our guns could almost touch, and this close, I can see the deep scowl lines etched into his face.

My gaze flickers downward briefly, and I notice something else. The dark fabric of his suit is shiny. It gleams in the moonlight, catching the dim illumination of the streetlamps outside the cemetery.

Blood.

Something must’ve pierced him when the car crashed. He’s bleeding.

He takes another threatening step toward me, and even though every muscle in my body burns with the urge to back up, to run from him, I don’t let myself move.

I need to get him to let his guard down. I need him to believe he’s won.

“Okay,” I say quietly, my pulse drumming hard and fast. “Okay.”

With a deliberate motion, I tip my gun up and toss it away.

Luca smiles, a look of satisfaction crossing his face.

Without letting myself hesitate, I lunge forward, moving as fast as I can. My hand comes up to grip his weapon the way Ryland taught me to, twisting it and shoving it to one side. He fires a shot, and I feel the bullet brush past me, inches from my body. The sound rings in my ears as I close the last bit of space between us and head-butt him as hard as I can.

My forehead catches his nose with an audible crunch, and he stumbles back slightly. Before he can recover, I twist the gun even more, breaking his grip and wrenching it away from him.

I stagger backward, so much raw adrenaline coursing through me that I almost drop the fucking thing. I clench my fingers around it, pointing it at Luca. Blood streams down his face, pouring from his nose and coating his lips, appearing almost black in the darkness.

He takes a half-step toward me, but his legs buckle and he goes to his knees.

He’s hurt worse than I thought. It’s probably the only reason that insane move worked.

My breath comes in choppy bursts as I stare down at him, holding the gun aimed at his head.

One of his hands reaches up to press against the shiny patch on his chest, and when it slips away, it’s wet with blood. He grimaces, dragging in an audible, rasping breath. Then he looks up at me, tilting his head to meet my gaze.

There’s something in his face I can’t remember ever seeing before, not in any of the times I’ve been around this man.

Exhaustion.

Bone deep, soul deep exhaustion.

He draws another breath, and it seems like it costs him something to do it. Like he knows it’s the last one he’ll ever take. His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head slightly.

“I never wanted to live without her,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t have to say the name for me to know who he’s talking about. Pain drips from every syllable of his words.

I nod, my throat going tight. “I know.”

Something settles in my stomach, grounding me. Anchoring me.

I hold Luca’s gaze, staring into the dark irises of the man whose pain has begotten so much more pain.

Then I pull the trigger and put a bullet between his eyes.

CHAPTER 23

LUCA’S BODY pitches backward and slumps to the ground, life leaving it before it even hits the grass.

For a long moment, I stay frozen in place, staring down at him with my gun still raised.

My hand is shaking. I’m not sure I’m even breathing. Shock and adrenaline are finally starting to catch up with me, rushing through my veins so fast I feel wobbly on my feet.

A few days ago, I’d never killed another person. Now I’m not even sure how many lives I’ve taken.

But out of all the deaths I’ve been responsible for since this mess began, Luca’s is the only one I feel no guilt for.

Because he deserved it.

In every way possible.

And even though I should feel nothing but hate for this man, as I stare down at his corpse I can’t help but hope that somewhere out there, his wife’s soul is waiting for him. That he’ll find the peace he tore the world apart trying to obtain.

My legs can barely support my weight, but I finally force myself to step away from his body, turning and heading back the way I came. I try to run, but after my flat-out sprint earlier and the numbness creeping through me, all I can manage is an uneven half-walk, half-jog.

It feels like it takes forever, much longer than I remember running before, and I shove down the panicked voice in my head that whispers that I’ve gotten turned around, that I’ll never find my way back.

I have to. So I fucking will.

“Ayla!”

The voice rings out through the darkness ahead of me, and my heart jolts at the sound. Ryland.

I pick up my pace, and when I hear Marcus’s voice calling out as well, I almost sob with relief. I don’t hear any gunshots, and although I should probably still be cautious, I can’t stop myself from running toward the sound of their raised voices.

“I’m here!” I rasp. “I’m here!”

A body barrels into me, and panic flashes for a heartbeat until I recognize the familiar scent of Theo. He wraps his arms around me in a bear hug, his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek as he holds me to him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Rose. We couldn’t find you. We thought you were fucking dead.”

“Is it over?” My voice is muffled against his thick arm, but I don’t care. And he doesn’t ease up on his grip as he answers, nearly lifting me off my feet in an effort to drag me closer.

“Yeah. It’s over. It was Gabriel and Michael, each with a small team. We took them out.”

“I killed Luca,” I murmur, the words sounding strange on my tongue.

That makes Theo loosen his grip, his hands coming up to grasp my shoulders as he presses me away from him to look down at my face. “You—”

“—killed him. He’s gone.”

Theo blinks, looking shocked and impressed and worried all at once. Then he shakes his head and pulls me into his embrace again as Marcus and Ryland reach us. They surround me, all three of their bodies pressing in around me, enclosing me between them. I can feel Marcus’s rough hand on my hair, his fingers sliding through the strands. Ryland’s forehead presses against mine as I rest my cheek on Theo’s chest again.

When Theo releases me again, his blue-green eyes glitter in the darkness. “We need to get the fuck out of here. This is gonna be a fucking field day for the cops, and we don’t want to be anywhere near this place when they get here.”

“Dominic!” I blurt, wheeling suddenly toward the statue of the angel. She’s pockmarked now, her beautiful white facade gouged by bullet holes.

“He’s already in the car,” Ryland says gruffly. “Alive. Or he was a few minutes ago.”

“I’ve got Doctor Brenson meeting us at my house,” Victoria comments from a few yards away. When I glance over at her, I notice she’s limping pretty badly. She jerks her head toward the car. “We need to go. Now.”

No one has to tell me twice. The grass around the grave is trampled, and the bodies of Luca’s guards lie where they fell. I’m sick of being surrounded by death, and I can’t shut down the rising fear that we’ll end up with another dead body in the car if we don’t get Dominic back to Victoria’s place fast enough.

We make our way to her car as fast as we can. As we walk, I cast a look at my men. Ryland looks like he’s got a black eye, although it’s hard to tell in the darkness. Theo has a smear of blood across his cheek, and I can’t tell if it’s his or someone else’s.

But they’re all alive.

I’m so fucking grateful for that.

We pile into the car, Victoria behind the wheel and Theo and Ryland in the back with Dom. This time, I end up on Marcus’s lap in the front seat, not wanting to jostle Dominic or take up any more space in the back. He’s slumped against the passenger door, his head lolling against the glass. Someone wrapped his suit jacket tightly around his torso, and I can tell it’s soaked with blood.

Fuck. How much has he lost?

As if sensing my thoughts, Marcus tightens his hold on me, securing me against his body and burying his face in my hair as Victoria peels out.

“Go back to where we came in,” I tell her quietly. “We should avoid the southern entrance.”

As we drive, I fill the men and Victoria in on what happened after I chased Luca down. With every word I speak, Marcus’s grip on me tightens, and I can practically feel him vibrating with latent worry beneath me.

“That was fucking reckless, angel,” he murmurs in a rough, angry voice, burrowing his face deeper into my hair until his mouth finds the skin of my neck. He nips at me, and I know it’s supposed to sting. He’s pissed that I could’ve gotten hurt. Could’ve gotten killed.

I rest my hand on his thick forearm, feeling the play of muscles beneath my fingers as he grips me tightly.

“It was,” I admit. “But I couldn’t let him get away. I had to end it.”

Eager to turn the conversation away from me, I make them tell me everything that happened around Genevieve’s grave while I was gone. My heart thuds unevenly as they describe it to me, and I understand the anger in Marcus’s voice earlier even more.

They all came close to dying. More than once.

In the end, what saved them was the fact that Gabriel and Michael were going up against each other too. Gabriel ended up taking out Michael, and that gave Victoria and the guys a chance to take down Gabriel. A few of their men ran, but most ended up dead on the ground.

I don’t know what will happen next. The power dynamics in Halston have shifted wildly overnight, and although most of the city isn’t aware of it yet, it won’t take long for them to find out.

But I can’t think about that right now. All I can think about is the fact that my men are still alive, and that Dominic is quietly bleeding out in the back seat.

The street is dark as Victoria pulls up the drive to her house, and when she rolls into the garage and cuts the engine, I grab for the door handle and quickly slide off Marcus’s lap.

I want to insist on helping carry Dominic inside, but instead, I let Theo and Ryland bring him in. Theo grabs his legs and Ryland carries him beneath the arms, and I try not to notice the way Dominic’s head falls back, his entire body lax and boneless.

He looks like he’s already dead.

Marcus’s jaw clenches when Victoria directs the men to carry Dom into a room at the back of the house, and I know it’s the same room she must’ve kept him in while he was recovering from his injuries.

Theo and Ryland deposit Dominic inside, and to my vast relief, Doctor Brenson arrives just a few moments later. Victoria ushers him in and then kicks us all out to let the doctor work.

She’s still limping, and blood stains her ankle and her shoe, soaking into the fabric of her pants.

“You got shot,” I note, stating the obvious because I’m too tired and worn out to say anything else.

“Yep.”

She brushes past me, heading for the stairs.

“Aren’t you gonna get it looked at?” I ask, grimacing. Between the blood and the way she’s walking, I’m guessing it’s more than a graze. It obviously didn’t shatter bone, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s still got a bullet lodged in her calf.

“I will.” She shrugs, shooting me an almost annoyed glance over her shoulder. “When Doctor Brenson is done.”

She disappears upstairs after that, moving stiffly. I get the feeling she was annoyed at me for highlighting the fact that she’s letting her doctor take care of Dominic first—as if any act of kindness is an act of weakness.

Well, fine. If she doesn’t want to talk about it, I won’t. I’m not exactly interested in heaping praises on her anyway, even if I am grateful to her for helping my brother.

Caleb.

The name floats through my mind.

I’ve never been able to think of the dark-haired man that way before. Even after I found out he was my brother, he stayed Dominic in my mind. I had to force myself to think of him by the other name.

But in the graveyard, when he’d been shot and I had no idea if he was dying, I screamed out his name—and the word Caleb burst from my lips as if by instinct. I don’t know how to feel about that.

Theo and Ryland head down the hall toward the bathroom to wash off some of the dirt and blood, both theirs and others, that’s spattered over their clothes and skin. I should probably do the same, but I can’t get my feet to move. I stand in the hallway staring at nothing until Marcus steps up and wraps his arms around me.

The feel of his body jolts me out of my chaotic thoughts, and I press my forehead against his chest, burying my face in his warm shirt.

He’s the only one I haven’t told yet, and without any conscious command from me, the words pour from my lips. I tell him everything I know and suspect about Dominic—about who he really is.

Marcus stiffens beneath me. I can feel the tension gathering in his body, but he just keeps holding me as I speak, letting me get everything out in a quiet whisper.

When I’m done, he draws back a little, looking down at me. He doesn’t offer defense or condemnation of Dominic. He doesn’t tell me I’m crazy for believing this is real, or that I should’ve let him kill Dom when we first got back to the safe house.

All he does is press a gentle kiss to my lips.

I don’t know how he knew that’s what I needed more than anything right now, but I’m grateful for his silence, for his acceptance, and for the reminder of his unconditional love.

“Come on, angel.” He kisses me once more. “Let’s get you off your feet.”

Marcus catches my hand and pulls me toward a living room in the middle of the house. Theo and Ryland join us, speaking to each other in low voices.

The furniture is leather and minimalist chic, matching the rest of Victoria’s home. Even though it looks simple, I’m sure it’s expensive as fuck, but none of my guys seem to care about that as they all settle onto a large sectional sofa.

They sit close together, tugging me down on top of them so that I’m sort of sprawled across all of their laps—as if by some unspoken understanding that all of them need to be touching me right now.

I need it.

And they need it.

My head is on Marcus’s lap, and he runs his fingers gently over my cheek. Ryland’s hands rest on the curve of my waist, and Theo’s palms graze up my leg.

“Rest, angel,” Marcus tells me quietly. “We’ll wake you when Doctor Brenson is done.”

I shouldn’t be able to sleep. Energy is still buzzing through my veins, making me restless and demanding that I do something.

But it turns out my exhaustion is even stronger than that. With the warmth of the men’s bodies seeping into mine and their strong hands holding the scattered pieces of me together, I drift off into a dreamless sleep.

QUIET VOICES WAKE ME.

My body jerks as I come back to consciousness, and the three sets of hands on me all tighten their grip slightly, grounding me and reminding me that they’re still here.

“It’s okay, Rose,” Theo murmurs. “It’s all right.”

I struggle to sit up, and they shift on the couch a little to give me room. I end up sitting on Ryland’s lap with the other two close on either side.

Victoria is nowhere in sight, and when I glance at Marcus questioningly, he says, “Doctor Brenson is working on Victoria’s leg. He finished up on Dom’s bullet wounds just a little while ago.”

“Is he…?”

I trail off. I don’t want to finish the sentence. I don’t want the fear in my voice to betray me.

“He’s not dead.” Ryland’s arms slide around my waist, his voice rumbling against my back. “He’s sleeping. Lost a lot of blood, but the bullet wounds themselves weren’t too bad. One in his chest, and one that grazed his shoulder.”

So the third missed him. And the second shot barely hit him.

The surge of relief makes me feel a little dizzy, and I reach out, gripping Theo’s hand to steady myself.

“Come on.”

Theo gives my hand a squeeze, then the men help me to my feet and lead me back to the room where they brought Dominic when we first arrived. Down the wide hallway, I can hear the low murmur of voices as Victoria talks to Doctor Brenson, but I ignore it, stepping into the room where Dominic lies.

He’s on his back, his eyes closed. His face is pale, his cheeks a little sallow looking.

I remember thinking that he looked younger and softer when I saw him sleeping on the couch back at his safe house. The same thought occurs to me now, and it twists something inside me. A sisterly instinct I didn’t even know I still had.

Despite everything, despite my attempts to hold on to Dominic, to see the man who kidnapped me and went along with Carson’s fucked up plan, when I look at him now, I only see Caleb.

A kid who got in way over his head and lost himself trying to get out.

There’s a chair set against one wall, and I walk over and sink into it, still gazing at my brother. The men all settle in around me, leaning against the wall or lounging in the doorframe.

Minutes tick by slowly, and my eyelids droop a few times. I keep expecting the men to leave, to go take care of the business I know must be waiting for them. But they don’t. Each one of them stays right where they are, alert and silent.

I know they’re not keeping vigil over my brother.

They’re keeping vigil over me.

The sun is almost up by the time Caleb’s eyes blink slowly open. I’ve completely lost track of the days and hours by now. Everything since the party has been so disjointed and chaotic that sunrise and sunset seem like arbitrary markers.

A new day is starting, but it feels like the end of a long one. I think I could sleep for a week.

Caleb’s dark lashes flutter a little as he blinks again. His eyes slowly focus, first on the ceiling above him and then on the room around him.

My stomach balls itself up into a tight knot. I don’t know if he’ll remember what I said last night, and I can’t decide if I hope he does or doesn’t. Maybe I should still try to sweep this all under the rug, to forget about what I know and just let us each go our own separate—

“LaLa?”

My brother’s voice is groggy and soft, but there’s no mistaking what he says.

I freeze, my hand gripping the arm of the chair tightly as my muscles tense, my entire body going into some kind of weird fight-or-flight mode.

“Caleb?”

The word scratches out of my throat, as dazed and quiet sounding as his use of my old nickname. I drag my gaze up to meet his, and I’m shocked at the raw pain that splits his face.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck. LaLa? You’re…?”

He shifts on the bed like he’s going to sit up, but he obviously can’t manage it. He’s got an IV hooked up to his arm, and he groans softly as he settles back onto the pillow. Looking back up at the ceiling, he blinks several times, tears sliding out from the corners of his eyes.

My own eyes burn, and I clench my jaw, fighting down the wild surge of emotions.

None of my men leave, but they all stay still and silent, letting this play out between us without interference. I’m glad as hell that they’re here. I don’t think I could face this on my own.

“I…” Caleb shakes his head. “I kidnapped you. I could’ve killed you. And I never would’ve known.”

“Would it have been okay if I wasn’t your sister?” I shoot back, and Caleb lets out a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“No.”

“Glad we’re agreed on that.”

His eyes open again, and he tilts his head toward me, his blue eyes bloodshot. “How did you find out?”

The fidgety feeling inside me intensifies. Despite all the time I spent looking for him, despite my desperate drive to find my brother, I’m not good at… being his sister. I don’t even feel like I know what that means right now.

But I answer his question, holding his gaze as I do. “I looked for you for a long time. I had an old picture of us from when we were little. But it was all I had.” I grimace. “Now that I know who adopted you, it makes so much fucking sense. They must’ve buried the records of you, paid people off to destroy them. They didn’t want anyone to know you weren’t their natural born son.”

“I hate them.”

He says the words dully, as if the emotion hasn’t had time to truly settle in and take root yet. Or maybe it’s buried itself so deep in his soul that all he can feel is the aching throb of it.

“Yeah, me too.” I nod, because that’s at least one thing we can agree on right now. The rest of our relationship, whatever amount of one we may eventually be able to salvage, will take time to develop.

But at least we can unite in our shared rage against the people who stole him away from me. Who stole us from each other.

“The stuffed animal you had,” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak for a moment. “The one you said your mom burned. Was it an elephant?”

His brows draw together in surprise. “Yeah. It was. It was all beat up, but I loved it.”

I nod, surreptitiously reaching up to wipe away a tear that escapes and tracks down my cheek. “I dreamed you left it with me. Maybe I just wanted to believe you left some part of yourself with me.”

Caleb bites his lip, something heartbreaking passing over his pale features. “I don’t remember you.” He lifts a hand quickly, holding it out as if to correct himself. “I mean, I know it’s you, but… I can barely remember. I spent all my life thinking those little memories I had were nothing, that they were just shit I made up when I was a kid. It’s all just vague, random stuff.”

A weird sense of relief washes through me, and one corner of my lip twitches up into an almost-smile. “That’s okay. I don’t really remember you either. Just, like you said, vague stuff. Things I wasn’t even sure were real.”

“You remember some things,” Caleb mutters, and the self-loathing in his voice is evident. “Jesus, Ayla. What I did. What happened… It’s so fucked up.”

I’m silent for a long moment, considering his words. I can feel not only Caleb but the other three men too waiting to hear what I’ll say. Waiting to hear my verdict.

Finally, I lick my lips and let out a breath. “This guy named Dominic once did some pretty fucked up shit to me, yeah. But the guy named Caleb?” I shrug. “I don’t know anything about him yet.”

Caleb swallows, his Adam’s apple dipping. I can see the strain of exhaustion on his face, and I know he needs to sleep again, to keep healing.

“Do you want to?” he asks, his voice quiet. Almost scared.

This time, I don’t pause as long to consider my answer. I could. I could spend hours—days, weeks—debating about whether what Caleb did is worth forgiving.

When the words fall out of my mouth, they don’t come from the logical, analytical part of me. They come from my heart. And they’re the absolute truth.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

CHAPTER 24

AFTER OUR CONVERSATION, Caleb falls back asleep quickly.

I’m relieved. The words we exchanged were a tiny step toward a future, toward some kind of something between us. But I’m too exhausted to navigate what it all means, and I know we’ll have to navigate a lot of bullshit to get to a better place.

But Caleb wants to.

And so do I.

Theo and Ryland both pointed out how much Mr. and Mrs. Roth influenced Caleb as they raised him as their son. Teaching him to expect the world to fall at his feet, probably, while at the same time grooming him to be so loyal to his family that he’d feel like it was his duty to play a dangerous game with deadly stakes just for the chance at bettering his family name.

It’s fucked up, but it gives me hope that the person I hope my brother can be is buried deep down somewhere. I saw glimpses of that man this weekend, starting with the moment when he saved our lives.

As Caleb dozes in bed, the men and I file quietly out of the room.

We find Victoria leading Doctor Brenson out. The man is so used to minding his fucking business that he just gives Marcus a tiny nod of his head—the only acknowledgement that not that long ago, the doctor saved Marcus’s life.

Marcus returns the nod, and when Doctor Brenson is gone, Victoria turns to us. Her limp has improved, which I take to mean she’s on some pretty good painkillers.

Digging into her pocket, she tosses a set of keys at Ryland. He snatches them out of the air, raising a brow as he does.

“So you can get the fuck out of here,” she says bluntly. “I’m not hosting a slumber party.”

I almost grin.

Once again, even the smallest gesture of kindness on her part has to be covered up by a sharp comment. I wonder vaguely if she’s spent so long thinking of herself as a bitch that she doesn’t realize she isn’t one.

Ruthless, cunning, and fierce as hell, yes.

But not a bitch the way Natalie is. Not petty. Not cruel for cruelty’s sake.

I think, as insane as it sounds, I’m actually starting to respect this girl. I could even see myself liking her.

Ryland’s lips purse, but he doesn’t say anything. He just nods at Victoria then turns to the rest of us. In answer to the unspoken prompt, Marcus takes my hand and starts leading me toward the garage.

I go willingly, keeping pace with his long strides.

This won’t be the last time we see Victoria or Caleb. There’s still a shitload of stuff to figure out.

But right now, I need to go home.

AS SOON AS we get back to Theo’s place, all four of us head upstairs.

We don’t even discuss it, just like the guys didn’t have to speak before they pulled me down onto the sofa with them back at Victoria’s house.

We need to be together right now. As bone-tired as I am, I know I couldn’t sleep if I didn’t have all three of them with me.

Touching me.

Breathing the same air as me.

Reminding me with every small movement that they’re still alive.

I strip off my borrowed jeans and crawl into bed, and the men are right behind me, shucking their shirts and pants and sliding in beside me. I end up sandwiched between Theo and Marcus, with Ryland’s hand tangled in my hair.

The heat of their bodies warms the space beneath the covers, enveloping me in a sort of cocoon.

I think I try to say something, but before the words can make the short trip from my brain to my mouth, I lose them.

And sleep finds me.

It’s a good sleep.

The first restful sleep I’ve had since before we went to that fateful party at Luca’s house. It’s like my body knows it doesn’t have to fight anymore, doesn’t have to maintain awareness and be ready to lurch into action at any sign of danger.

Part of me expects that I’ll dream of Caleb, of the day he was taken from me—but instead, I don’t dream at all.

By the time I finally crack my eyes open, it’s dark outside again. A full day came and went since our visit to the graveyard, and I’m sure news of Luca’s death has begun to spread across Halston—along with the deaths of Adrian, Michael, Gabriel, and their men.

I blink lazily, gazing up at the ceiling. A small beam of moonlight creeps through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the room just enough that when I turn my head, I can see the three men laid out beside me.

God, they’re fucking beautiful.

That’s not new information, of course. I’ve known that since the first time I laid eyes on them.

But they look even more stunningly handsome right now than they ever have before, their faces softened by sleep, and I realize after a long moment that it’s not them who are different—it’s me.

For the first time in weeks, I feel like I have time to just look my fill. To appreciate the subtle curve of Theo’s jaw and the way Marcus’s eyelashes cast soft shadows over his cheeks. The way Ryland’s tattoos scrawl across his skin, highlighting the muscles beneath.

They look like dangerous, powerful gods.

And they’re mine.

The surge of possessive satisfaction that rises up in me at that thought makes me smile.

They’re still gathered around me, but they’ve shifted a little in their sleep, and I move slowly as I wriggle out from between them and crawl off the bed. Slipping off my panties, I walk naked across the room and head into the bathroom, closing the door behind me before flicking on the light.

I don’t bother looking in the mirror as I turn on the shower and test the temperature. I know I still look like a bruised, battered mess.

But I don’t feel like one anymore. Despite the aches and pains in my body, I feel light. Strong.

It’s over.

The reality of that is still sinking in, and I don’t think I’ve fully grasped it yet. But every time the thought passes through my mind, it feels more real.

When the water’s warm enough, I step into the shower, letting out a long sigh as the pulsing spray hits my skin. Unlike my shower back at the safe house, I take my time, lathering my body gently with soap as my eyelids droop.

The soft sound of the door opening draws my attention, and I don’t fight the smile that grows on my face.

I’m not even a little bit surprised.

And somehow, even before he steps into the shower with me, even before I feel his arms wrap around me and hear the deep gravel of his voice, I know it’s Marcus.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks quietly.

“No, I could.” My smile widens as I lean back against him. “I did. Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time. I was gonna join you guys back in bed, I just wanted to get clean first.”

“Angel…” His voice drops a little lower, taking on a darkly teasing tone. His touch moves lower too, one large hand sliding down my belly to find the space between my legs. “Haven’t you figured out by now that we like you dirty?”

I chuckle, but it ends on a groan when he slides a large finger inside me. He makes an echoing noise low in his throat, pumping his finger slowly in and out of me as he grinds against my clit with the heel of his hand.

My head falls back against his shoulder, my hand sliding between us to feather over his cock. He adjusts his stance to give me a little more access, and I take it, wrapping my fingers around him and stroking him up and down.

Our movements are slow and languid. Lazy and unhurried. As if we’re not even trying to make each other come yet, just reveling in groping each other.

I tilt my head to the side a little as Marcus tilts his, and our lips find each other in a deep, wet kiss. My hips are rolling against the movement of Marcus’s hand, and when he adds a second finger inside me, I shiver. His cock is growing harder and thicker in my grip, and even though we weren’t trying to get each other off, I’m rapidly barreling toward the finish line.

My tongue spears into his mouth, mirroring the plunge of his fingers in my pussy, and I circle my hips a little, giving myself more friction against his hand.

“That’s it, angel,” he murmurs encouragingly. “Come for me.”

And I do.

Just because I can.

The orgasm rolls through me in a slow wave, making my whole body arch against his, and I deepen our kiss even more, sucking his tongue into my mouth as he draws out the last shuddering aftershocks of pleasure.

My clit is still pulsing with needy throbs as he withdraws his fingers, and I start to turn around, wanting to wrap my legs around him and feel him impale me on his cock.

But Marcus puts his hands on my shoulders, steering me toward the shower door instead. He shuts off the water, then guides me out onto the soft bathmat.

When I glance at him quizzically, he catches my chin in his hands, drawing me in for a deep kiss before looking down into my eyes.

“I don’t want it to be just me and you tonight, angel,” he whispers. “I want it to be all of us.”

My stomach does a little flip, part happiness and part anticipation—and part overwhelming love.

I nod, emotion making my throat tight. “Me too.”

Marcus smiles, the boyish, slightly lopsided grin that surprised me the first time I saw it. Then he swoops me up into his arms, not even bothering to dry me off, and carries me back into the bedroom.

The other two men are still asleep on the bed, and I can see the gap that our absence left, the space between them where Marcus and I are meant to be.

He settles me onto the bed gently, laying me down between his two friends and then crawling up to hover over me. Earth and air stare down at me, shining with emotion.

For a second, we just stare at each other. Then I reach up to palm the back of Marcus’s neck, drawing him down to kiss me. There’s a little more urgency in it than there was in the shower, and I like how I can physically feel his need for me. I like how his cock brushes against my lower belly, and the way he squeezes my breast so hard it draws a gasp from my lips.

Theo stirs beside us at the sound, and I know the moment he fully wakes up because he lets out an appreciative groan. His hands are on my body a second later, sliding over to grasp my other breast, massaging it with his palm before pinching my nipple lightly.

A chuckle comes from my other side, and as Marcus dips his head to suck one nipple into his mouth, I look over to find Ryland gazing back at me.

“Good morning,” I murmur, my voice a little breathy and strained. The stimulation of my nipples is making my clit throb harder, another orgasm already threatening to make an appearance.

Ryland chuckles again, and it’s one of the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard. His hazel eyes gleam as he shifts closer to me on the bed. He did get a black eye in the fight, but it doesn’t diminish his darkly handsome allure one bit.

“I think it’s night,” he tells me, his lips curving upward. “But it’s definitely good.”

His hand finds my stomach and then slides down, moving over my mound and brushing over my clit before his finger teases my entrance.

“Fuck, you’re wet. Did you come already?”

I nod, arching my back as Theo and Marcus renew their assault on my nipples. “But I… can come again.”

“Hell yeah, you can.”

He slips his finger deeper inside me, fucking me with it like Marcus did in the shower. Every time he slides it into my wet channel, his palm grazes my clit, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting through me.

When he pulls his finger all the way out, I groan in disappointment. But a second later, Marcus shifts his weight a little and sinks his cock into me, filling me up in a long, even stroke.

I make a strangled noise of pleasure, and Ryland leans forward to kiss me, his lips moving hungrily as if he wants to devour the sound.

Marcus fucks me for a few strokes, and when he pulls out, Ryland’s fingers take over. The feel of them sharing me like this makes my core clench tightly, and I shift my hips eagerly, trying to bring Ryland’s fingers deeper.

“You want more, angel?” Marcus murmurs.

I shiver, breathing harder. “Yes.”

He grins. Then he bends my legs a little, resting my heels on the mattress. He slides into me again, and as he sets up a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out, Ryland’s hand slips under my leg and around the curve of my ass.

When his finger breaches my back hole, I clench automatically around Marcus, my whole body reacting to the sensation. My lips break from Ryland’s on a moan, my head tilting back.

“Fuck,” Theo groans. “You’re so beautiful, Rose.”

He rises up on one elbow to look down at me, and as I stare up, my vision is overtaken by his face and Marcus’s side by side. Then Theo drops his head to kiss me, tasting the pleasure that’s surging through my body at the feel of Marcus and Ryland both fucking me.

Heat is simmering low in my belly, spreading slowly out through the rest of my body, another orgasm gathering like a coiled spring.

“Are you close?” Theo whispers against my lips, his breath gusting against my skin.

“Yes.” I nod in a small, sharp motion. My toes are curling, my hips arching upward to meet every one of Marcus’s thrusts.

“Wait. Not yet.” Theo kisses me again after he says the words, and if my lips weren’t otherwise occupied, I’d tell him I don’t have a fucking choice. My lips are shaking with it, sensation filling me up from head to toe.

“I… oh God. Oh, fuck!”

My back arches, but before the orgasm can crash over me, everything stops. Marcus slides out of me in a slow movement, and Ryland’s finger leaves my ass. I gasp for breath as I stare up at all three of them, and Theo grins broadly at me.

“We’ve got you, baby,” he promises, and the heat in his voice makes my clit throb.

I’m so fucking close. I just need a little more to push me over the edge.

“Roll over,” Theo commands.

They all sit back, and he puts his hands on my hips to help me as I comply, turning over onto my stomach. Then he pulls my hips backward, drawing me up onto my knees. My hand braces on the mattress, and he slides his palm over the curve of my ass.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod. It’s harder for me to stay like this for a long time than it would be if I could support my weight on two arms, but there’s no fucking way I want to miss whatever is about to happen.

I can practically feel the brilliance of his smile beaming down on my back like a ray of sunshine. One of his legs slides between mine, moving my knees a little wider on the mattress.

Then he grabs my ass cheeks in both hands, gripping them tightly to spread them apart and burying his face between my legs. His tongue spears my pussy before sliding up to tease my ass, and I almost pitch face-first onto the bed at the sudden rush of pleasure.

Marcus grabs my shoulder to steady me, supporting me and helping me stay upright as Theo’s tongue rolls over me.

I’m breathing hard, my body humming with arousal, but I manage to look up, catching Ryland’s gaze.

“Come here. Please, I want—”

Theo starts fucking me with his tongue, and I lose all the words I was about to say.

But Ryland gives me what I want anyway, moving forward to kneel in front of me and sitting back on his heels. He got rid of his boxers at some point, and his dick is thick and heavy, jutting out from his body as I lean toward him. I wrap my lips around him, and Ryland lets out a deep groan as my tongue swirls over the broad head of his cock.

Marcus is taking more of my weight now, practically holding me up as I take Ryland deeper into my mouth. Theo keeps changing the tempo and pattern of his tongue as he teases my clit and fucks me with it, and he’s got me balancing on a knife’s edge, right on the verge of flying over the cliff but never quite there.

My body is burning with the need for release, and I take out my frustration on Ryland’s cock. Saliva dribbles down his thick length as I bob my head up and down, hollowing my cheeks as I take him deeper each time.

Theo pulls away from my pussy. He bites down hard on my thigh and murmurs, “Now, Rose.”

His tongue finds my clit again, lashing it in hard strokes, and it’s almost more than my body can take. I shudder from head to toe, my arm nearly giving out as I gasp and moan around Ryland’s cock. Marcus’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and I feel him press a kiss between my shoulder blades as I arch my back, riding out the massive orgasm.

It’s like Theo just gave me several climaxes at once, all built up and unleashed at the exact same time.

I’m panting as the waves of pleasure subside, and I run my tongue over Ryland’s wet cock as I try to catch my breath.

He reaches down to wrap his hand around my wet hair, tilting my head up as he looks down at me. His jaw is tight, the muscles in his neck straining. “Fuck. I want to be inside you. Can you take more?”

I nod, pulling against his hold on my hair to make the gesture as emphatic as possible. I don’t care if I’m sore tomorrow. Hell, I don’t care if I can’t walk tomorrow.

Tonight, I want everything these men can give me.

Theo grazes his teeth over my thigh one more time before he pulls away, and Ryland releases his grip on my hair and lies back on the bed. Marcus helps me as I crawl forward, and when I’m straddling Ryland, I reach down between us, stroking his thick shaft. Fisting him, I rise up and sink down, enveloping him in my tight channel.

My entire lower half feels swollen and flushed from arousal, and it makes me intensely aware of how thick Ryland is. I can feel every inch of him as he fills me, and I pause when he bottoms out, letting my body adjust to the feel of being stretched by him.

“So good,” I murmur, biting my lower lip.

His hands come to my hips, and I start to roll them gently, riding his dick in small movements and grinding my clit against his pelvis.

Now that I don’t need his help staying upright anymore, Marcus’s hands begin to wander, roaming over my skin and teasing all the most sensitive parts of me.

When his fingers drift down to brush over my clit, I jump. It’s still sensitive, hyperaware of every little touch.

“I’ll go slow, angel,” he promises, massaging the swollen bud gently. “But you’ll want this. It will help loosen you up.”

As he speaks, I feel the warmth of Theo at my back, his fingers trailing down my spine and over the curve of my ass. I clamp down hard around Ryland, making him grunt, and Theo chuckles as he dips his hand a little lower, slides a finger through the slick arousal that coats my inner thighs before pressing it into my ass.

“You want this?”

“Yes.”

“You want more than this?”

The teasing note in his voice lets me know he’s already sure of the answer he’s going to get. I nod, too lost in sensation to even give him a snarky reply. “Yes. Fuck me. Please.”

He kisses my shoulder, pumping one finger in my ass before adding a second. Ryland and I move together in a steady rhythm, and Marcus does exactly what he promised he would, building me slowly back up with slow strokes around my clit.

Only when I start moving my hips faster and fucking Ryland harder does Marcus increase the pressure of his fingertips. My body has been through so much that the build toward release is slower this time, and I’m glad about that.

Because I don’t want to stop doing this. I want to keep moving with the rhythm of my men, feeding pleasure into them and drawing it from them in a perfect loop. I never want to let go of this connection between us, so deep and palpable it might as well be a physical bond that links us.

“Are you ready for me, Rose?” Theo murmurs. He’s always so careful with me, so gentle, but I can hear the rasp in his voice that lets me know how badly he needs this.

I nod again, bracing my hand on Ryland’s chest as I slow my movements a little.

Theo’s fingers slide out of me. Then the head of his cock nudges my tight back hole, and I press back against him, inviting him deeper. Welcoming it. Demanding it.

“Jesus fuck.”

The curse doesn’t fall from Theo’s lips. It’s Marcus who speaks. When I look over, I see that he’s got his free hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself as he continues teasing my clit.

His gaze rakes over me, hot as fire, and a fresh jolt of arousal slams through me.

I remember the way he looked the night he came back into our lives like a ghost rising from the grave. When we all came back from Luca’s house and he watched me fuck Theo on the couch. He’s got the same expression on his face now—one of almost tortured desire, as if seeing what his friends are doing to me is almost too much for him to take.

Leaning over, I crane my neck and find his lips with mine, kissing him hard as Theo slides deeper into my ass.

Our tongues and lips and teeth collide, and there’s nothing gentle about it. It’s feverish and hungry. Theo is all the way inside me now, and the feeling of being completely full of both him and Ryland is almost enough to make me come again already.

Theo’s lips find my shoulder, biting and scraping over the skin, and he withdraws in a slow, smooth motion before sliding back in. The friction lights my nerves on fire, and I grunt into Marcus’s mouth as Ryland grips my hips and thrusts into me too. He and Theo alternate movements, and I give myself over to it completely, letting them move my body any way they like.

I’m relaxed and trusting in their embrace, knowing that these men would never hurt me—they’ll only worship me, only bring me pleasure.

This is so much different than the day Marcus fucked my ass in the shower. It’s as close as I’ll ever get to the thing I constantly crave, which is to be as deeply connected to my men as possible.

I’m lost in a sea of movement and hot breath, of groans and sighs and muttered curses. Of pleasure that spirals through my body from my fingertips to my toes and back, building and building until white spots dance in front of my eyes.

My fingernails are digging into Ryland’s chest, but he doesn’t seem to care. Marcus devours me with his kiss as he strokes his cock and toys with my clit, and I wish like hell that I could reach down and stroke him too. I want to feel the way he thickens right before he comes, feel his shaft pulse in my grip as he spills his release over my fingers.

“Fuck,” I mutter, my forehead resting against Marcus’s as my body writhes rhythmically between the two other men. “I’m close. So close. I’m—ah!”

Ryland brings me down hard on his cock, arching his hips up into mine, and at the same moment, Marcus pinches my clit between his fingers. He’s been working me up slowly after my two previous orgasms, and the sharp pinch of pain and pleasure throws me over the edge again.

As Ryland comes inside me, my inner walls ripple around him, my whole body shuddering.

Theo gives several deep thrusts, and I can feel him building toward his own climax as he drives into me. Then he grinds against my ass, pressing as deep as possible as his cock pulses over and over.

Marcus finally pulls his fingers away from my aching clit, his fist moving furiously over his thick length as he rises up to his knees.

He fists my hair, drawing my head back and making my spine arch. He comes on my chest, ropes of cum spurting over my breasts as a low growl erupts from his throat. His stomach muscles clench, and he keeps stroking until the last few drops spill over his hand.

Still gripping my hair, he brings his fingers to my mouth.

I grin, holding his gaze as I wrap my lips around them, licking them clean. Ryland and Theo are both still inside me, and I can feel their cocks twitch as they watch.

Marcus draws his fingers slowly from my mouth before leaning forward to kiss me. I’m sure he can taste the lingering tang of his own cum on my tongue, and it makes heat curl in my stomach.

He pulls back as Theo slowly slides out of me. Ryland lifts me gently off his cock, and I collapse onto the bed between them all, my body going limp. I worked up a sweat, and they did too. I can feel our skin sliding together as they curl closer to me. Their cum still marks me, both inside and out, and I know I’m a sticky mess. But I’m in no hurry to clean up.

“I love you, Rose,” Theo murmurs against my ear, and the other two men whisper the same.

“Love the fuck out of you.”

“Love you, angel.”

A smile stretches my lips. It’s like listening to an echo, a reverberation that amplifies the emotion with every added voice.

I’m not just loved.

I’m loved three times over, and I love each man back with my whole heart.

CHAPTER 25

FOUR DAYS LATER, we arrange a meeting with Caleb and Victoria.

Things have been moving fast in the wake of Luca’s death. For one thing, the story of how he died and the events that led up to the fight at the cemetery have become something of a legend already. Rumors about Luca and his double-dealings started flying almost immediately, fueled by a slow and controlled leak of information by me and the guys.

We’ve been careful about what we reveal, using those revelations to our advantage as we begin to fill the power vacuum left by Luca’s sudden death.

That’s what we need to talk to Caleb and Victoria about, actually.

“Nice spot,” I comment, glancing around at the large park that surrounds us.

The men and I are sitting on a bench set along an out-of-the-way path while kids play in a field nearby. I can hear happy shouts and screams from the small playground in the distance. The afternoon is bright and cloudless, and even though there’s a little chill in the air, the sun heats my face.

Marcus nods, catching my gaze. “It was neutral territory under Luca’s rule, and I don’t see any reason to change that.”

“Even if we plan on changing everything else,” Theo adds, looking up from where he’s tracing the shapes of the roses on my tattoo. The light contact of his fingertip on my skin sends a pleasurable little thrill through me.

Movement to my left catches my eye, and I glance up to see Victoria walking toward us. Last time I saw her, she was dirty and disheveled from a vicious and bloody fight. But she looks elegant and sharp today, her auburn hair sleek and her makeup perfectly done. She walks with a slight limp, which I’m sure would be worse if she weren’t so determined, and one hand lightly grips the arm of the tall man who walks beside her.

It must be Jaden.

She never described him, but I know it’s him anyway. I can tell by the way her body seems to unconsciously lean closer to his, and by the protective way he moves beside her that the two of them are in love.

That this is the man she did all of this for. The man she fought for, tooth and fucking nail.

He’s got dark brown hair and deeply tanned skin. His eyes are dark too, framed by long lashes, straight brows, and high cheekbones. His expression is serious as his gaze tracks over all of us, and I wonder what Victoria has told him, or what he’s heard from other sources.

When they reach us, Victoria nods curtly.

As she introduces Jaden, I shoot a surreptitious glance at my men. Technically, this negotiation was just supposed to be between the four of us, Victoria, and Caleb. I wait to see if any of them will object, but none do. They must know as well as I do that Jaden will be a part of this no matter what.

“Where’s Dom?” Theo asks.

The name sounds so strange to me now. At some point in the middle of this fucking ordeal, my brother flipped from being Dominic to being Caleb in my head, and it’s hard to think of him any other way now. But not everyone knows his whole story yet, I don’t think, and I appreciate that Theo is letting him be the one to tell it.

“I don’t know.” Victoria shrugs. “He’s not staying at my house anymore. After two days, Doctor Brenson gave him the go-ahead to move around, and he left. Brenson will still do his follow-ups, but I haven’t spoken to him since then.”

“There he is.” Ryland jerks his chin, and I turn to see my brother walking slowly up the path from the opposite direction.

Caleb is moving slowly, but he’s upright and has a lot more color than he did last time I saw him. The sun glints off his dark hair as a messy piece falls across his forehead, and when he sees us all looking at him, he tries to pick up his pace.

“Jesus, he’s gonna pull his stitches,” I mutter, irritation in my voice. I stand up and stride quickly over to him, meeting him halfway and offering him my arm.

He looks at it in surprise, and I press my lips together.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. And don’t expect this kind of thing all the time. I just don’t want you to pop your stitches and bleed all over yourself while we’re discussing the future of Halston.”

Caleb’s mouth twitches like he’s trying to fight back a smile, but he doesn’t say anything as he rests a hand on my good arm, letting me take a little of his weight.

When we reach the others, Marcus, Ryland, and Theo are all standing. I step up beside Marcus, and the seven of us form a small circle.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Marcus says, skipping the boring pleasantries and jumping right into things. He glances from Victoria to Caleb. “As I’m sure you’ve both noticed, the landscape in Halston is already shifting. There’s a small window of time before the power structure settles. The Morello and Saviano families are already scrambling to increase their influence, but with Gabriel’s and Michael’s deaths, each organization has their own internal shit to deal with. That leaves an opening. An opportunity.”

Victoria’s eyes narrow slightly, and I can tell that although she’s keeping her face set into a neutral mask, she’s interested.

“We have a proposal for you,” Ryland adds, picking up where Marcus left off. His gaze bounces from Victoria to Caleb. His black eye has faded a bit, the colors turning a little green around the edges. “An offer.”

Caleb sounds interested too, but he also looks a bit wary. “What kind of offer?”

Theo grins. “When we decided to try to force Luca to step down, we agreed that we’d let him name Marcus the winner of the game—but that once he passed over his power, we would redistribute it, dividing things among ourselves.”

“And that offer still stands,” Marcus says.

“Share power?” Victoria rolls the words around as if testing them out. “Why would you be willing to do that?”

Marcus holds her gaze evenly. It’s not hard to believe that less than a week ago, he tried to put a bullet in her head. They’ve moved past the point of wanting to kill each other and into a place of grudging respect, but I don’t think they’ll ever get too far beyond that.

I don’t think Marcus will ever entirely forgive her for trying to take him from me, and I can’t blame him for that.

“Two reasons,” he tells her. “The first is that none of us have the resources or ability to claim absolute power for ourselves. There’s strength in numbers, and dividing up the empire will make it easier to defend.” He shrugs, his eyes glinting. “And the second is that it’s dangerous for anyone to control that much of the city. Luca proved that beyond a shred of doubt. He abused his power because there was no one strong enough to check him. We don’t want to see that happen again.”

“So we’re offering a partnership.” Ryland crosses his arms over his chest, revealing hints of the dark ink on his skin beneath the sleeves of his shirt. “The six of us, each controlling a piece of Halston.”

Victoria glances at Jaden, and I know she’s remembering the years he spent under Luca’s thumb. She did a good job of disguising how much she hated Luca D’Addario while she was playing the game, but I can see it now in the dark cloud that passes over her face.

She and Jaden share a look, a silent communication passing between them. Then she turns back to us.

“All right. I accept. As long as one thing is perfectly clear. I don’t work for you. Any of you. We’re partners, and I won’t be taking orders from anyone.”

Marcus smiles, although the hard glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “Of course. Same goes for each of us.”

Caleb hesitates for a moment, his gaze darting to me. I wonder if the fact that we’ve just discovered we’re related makes him more or less likely to accept our offer. It means we’ll pretty much have to be in each other’s lives since we’ll be sharing control of the city, and even though he said he wanted that the last time we spoke, it’s possible he’ll still decide to back out. He was recovering from a gunshot wound and probably on a nice cocktail of drugs that morning, so who knows if he meant what he said.

But to my surprise, his blue eyes soften a little. Some of the tension and mistrust fades from his expression, and he nods. “Yeah. I’m in. My family name doesn’t mean shit to me anymore, so I need to build something for myself. For my own name.”

“Good.” Marcus gives a decisive nod. “As I said, we’ll have to move fast if we want to keep bloodshed to a minimum on all sides. We’ve been making moves on Luca’s trade deals and suppliers, and we’ll need your help to secure those alliances. We’ll meet again soon to discuss details.”

Victoria flips down the designer sunglasses that are perched on her head. With her eyes hidden behind the dark lenses, she glances around the park. “I understand why you chose this as our meeting place today, but if we’re going to be in business together, we should find a more secure location. Someplace we can meet. Neutral territory, but not as open.”

“On it.” Theo grins. “I’ll find us an office downtown.”

We talk in low voices for a few more minutes, hashing out some of the details of how this new partnership will work. I mostly just listen, paying attention to everything I hear. I’ve had to pick up the ropes fast since being thrust violently into this world, and I know I’ve still got a lot to learn. Especially since I have a stake in this too now.

The meeting breaks up with a promise that we’ll meet again in a few days in whatever location Theo secures for us. In the meantime, we’ll keep working on taking over the open pockets that are left in Luca’s absence.

Victoria and Jaden peel off first, walking back the way they came. She leans on him a little, and he wraps an arm around her waist.

Caleb clears his throat, wincing a little as he shifts his weight. “I gotta go. Brenson says I’m still not supposed to be on my feet much.” He ducks his head, then looks up at me, biting his lip. “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t just my decision.” I shrug, deflecting his words a little. The truth is, there’s a good chance the men might’ve cut him out of the deal if he wasn’t my brother—that he would never have been included in the bargain in the first place. I know they’ve given him a second chance because of me, and I hope like fuck that he’ll prove himself worthy of it.

He bobs his head again, and I know he sees through my dismissal, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just nods to the guys before turning to leave. I watch him go, unable to stop myself from analyzing his gait a little, trying to gauge how much pain he’s in and how his healing is going.

You could’ve just asked him, I remind myself wryly.

Maybe one day, I will. Maybe I’ll be able to have a normal conversation with him at some point—one that isn’t fraught with dozens of conflicting feelings and memories.

When Caleb disappears from sight, I turn back to face my three men. All of them are watching me, of course, a lot more interested in my well-being than my brother’s.

I smile and step up to Marcus, who’s closest to me. Resting my hand on his chest, I press a kiss to his lips. “That went well.”

One of his muscled arms, snakes around my waist, securing me against him. “It did.”

I glance at the other two, my heart beating a little harder. “So we’re really doing this? Are you sure?” Catching Theo’s gaze, I frown. “You told me once that you didn’t even want to win the prize. That you didn’t want to be the one at the top.”

He shrugs, stepping closer to me. Marcus loosens his hold on me without letting go completely, and I turn in his arms to face Theo as Ryland moves in on my other side. I love the feeling of being surrounded by them like this, as if they could block out the entire world until nothing but the three of them existed.

“I didn’t want to win, not really,” Theo admits. Then he snorts a humorless laugh. “I didn’t even want to play. But sometime in the middle of the game, I realized what I was playing for.” He cups the side of my face, running his thumb over my cheek. “It was for this. For you. For us. And the best way to keep the people I care about safe is to watch out for them from the top.”

A storm cloud seems to pass through his bright blue-green eyes. A hint of anger resonates in his voice as he adds, “This will give me a chance to help my mom too. Luca didn’t give a shit about her or my uncle, or the bullshit my uncle tried to pull. But I do. And if we can pull the right strings, I’ll make sure he loses every-fucking-thing. His stake in my dad’s company. His own business. All of it.”

There’s grim satisfaction in his expression, and I lean forward to kiss him too. “I’ll be there to help you. Any way I can.”

“You already do, Rose.” He slides his fingers down the line of my jaw before dropping his hand.

Ryland is on my other side, and when he reaches up to catch my chin, I turn toward him, already knowing what he wants. My lips catch his as the scent of sandalwood infuses my soul, and I kiss him without hesitation.

I don’t care that we’re in public.

I don’t care that anyone could see me being held between these three men, kissing each of them deeply.

In fact, I hope they do.

I hope they see the kind of love that’s possible even in this fucked up world.

When Ryland and I break apart, Marcus shifts my hair over my shoulder, brushing his lips along the curve of my neck. Then he releases me, catching my hand in his.

“Come on, angel. Let’s go home.”

EPILOGUE

FIVE YEARS LATER

“THAT’S GOOD. Keep your arm up though. It’ll help you block a counterstrike.”

Ryland nods approvingly as he assesses my form. We’re in the massive home gym on the lower level of our house. When the men all sold their places so we could move in together, one of the first things Ryland did was set up the gym so we could continue on with our training sessions.

I never expected to like it so much, but fighting is fucking addictive. And although there are plenty of things I have to modify because of my missing limb, I’ve never felt held back by it. I’m a quick learner, and I’m used to adapting. And as Ryland once affectionately told me, I’m excellent at channeling my rage.

I took that as a high compliment.

Breathing hard, I shift my stance a little, making the adjustment he suggested. Then I whip my left hand out, catching his open palm with a solid punch. My other arm comes up to block as he swipes at me in retaliation, and he grins when I stop his left hook.

“Good.”

Something shifts in his hazel eyes, a hint of fire burning in their depths a split second before he moves again. This time, instead of going for a hit, he ducks low and grabs me around the waist, driving me backward and bringing me to the ground.

Instead of fighting it, I let it happen, feeding into the momentum of our bodies and throwing myself into the takedown. As soon as we hit the mats, I buck my hips and roll, switching our positions so I’m on top. My thighs squeeze tight around his waist as I wedge my forearm under his chin, my dark ponytail falling on one side of my face.

“Mommy, are you beating up daddy again?”

The sweet little voice from the doorway makes Ryland and me both look. Cassidy is standing with her hand resting on the doorframe, a smile on her face. She’s got dimples in her cheeks that come out when she grins like that, and it gets me every time.

“It was a draw,” Ryland says, amusement in his rumbling voice.

Cassidy takes in our position again, her brow furrowing skeptically. “It doesn’t look like it.”

Goddammit, I love my daughter.

She may only be three and a half, but she’s sharp as a knife and has all of her daddies wrapped around her little finger.

I look back down at Ryland, grinning as I sit up. “Looks like the ref has spoken.”

He rolls his eyes, sitting up beneath me and wrapping his arms around me. He’s half hard in his gym shorts, and I have a feeling if we hadn’t been interrupted when we were, he would’ve carried me upstairs and buried himself inside me in about two minutes.

A hint of regret flashes through me that we didn’t get the chance, but that’s just because I’m greedy. Last night, my husbands made me come so hard I swear I lost the power of sight for a moment. I’ve got no room to complain about not getting enough sex.

In the eyes of the law, none of us are married. But none of us really give a shit about the law—a lot of our business is outside the law anyway, so I don’t see why our personal life should be any different.

And they are my husbands.

They’re more than that, really.

They’re my soulmates, my partners, my lovers, and my best friends.

“Come here, Cassy Bear.” Ryland jerks his chin at our daughter, and she trots happily into the room.

He helps me up before reaching down to scoop her into his arms, holding her on his hip with practiced ease. She’s getting too big for me to carry easily, but I think it’ll be a long while before she’s too heavy for her dads. The muscles in Ryland’s arms flex beneath the ink of his tattoos as he presses a kiss to her forehead, and my heart melts.

Seeing this tattooed beast of a man turn into a marshmallow for his daughter makes my ovaries threaten to explode. I’ve been dropping not-so-subtle hints that I want another baby, and all three of my men seem to be one hundred percent on board.

“Theo and Marcus should be home soon,” Ryland tells me, swaying Cassy gently on his hip. Then he grins down at our little girl. “Should we go wait for them to get back?”

She nods excitedly. They both had something to take care of this afternoon, and Ryland and I decided to train while Cassy was napping.

We leave the gym and stride through the large, open-floor-plan house. It’s bigger than any of the men’s old places, a sprawling bungalow on the far-north side of Halston. I almost thought it was too big when we first looked at it, but now that we’re thinking seriously of expanding our family, I’m glad I let the guys talk me into it.

Ryland carries Cassy into the living room and takes a seat on the couch, listening to her talk excitedly about a butterfly she saw on our walk this morning. I settle in next to them, lying back and resting my head on the armrest with my toes tucked under Ryland’s thigh.

Something changes in his face—in all of their faces—when they look at Cassy. I love the way I can see adoration burning in his eyes, warming the hazel depths of his irises. The way they love our daughter is an extension of the way they love me.

Fiercely and protectively, with everything they have inside them.

With her dimples and her blue-green eyes, it’s not hard to guess which one of the men’s DNA she shares. But that’s never made a single difference to any of them. As far as Ryland and Marcus are concerned, she’s their daughter as much as she’s mine and Theo’s.

And she’s the luckiest damn kid in the world, as far as I’m concerned.

It’s strange. I grew up with no parents, and my men all had shitty as fuck home lives. But they all turned out to be amazing parents themselves, dedicated and protective and loving.

Ryland’s mom died a few years ago, and I know it brought up a lot of complicated feelings for him. He loved her, no matter how little she might’ve deserved that love, and he mourned her passing even as he still harbored anger over what she and his father put him through.

He hasn’t spoken to his dad since the funeral, and I’m not sorry about that at all. Marcus broke away from his parents completely too. Theo’s the only one who still maintains some connection with his mother.

We hang out on the couch for about half an hour, and Ryland is in the middle of telling Cassy a very entertaining story about her three favorite stuffed animals on a mad-cap adventure when the front door opens.

Cassy perks up immediately, her blue-green eyes going wide. She grins at me and then wriggles on Ryland’s lap to be let down. He plonks her on the floor, and she’s off like a shot, running toward the front door with a happy shriek.

“So fickle,” he jokes as he turns to me, leaning his large body over mine to press a kiss to my lips. There’s just a hint of heat to it, and I have a feeling he’ll be the first one to rip my clothes off tonight.

I fist his t-shirt, holding him close to prolong our kiss by another few seconds. I grin up at him as he pulls away. “You know she loves you all the same.”

“Yeah.” He catches my hand and helps me up. “I do.”

By the time we catch up with our daughter in the foyer, she’s happily ensconced in Theo’s arms. He’s rubbing his nose against hers, making a low growling sound as she tries to mimic the noise in her sweet, high pitched voice. His nickname for her is Tiger, and after he explained to her how fierce and brave tigers are, she fell in love with it and insisted on learning as much about the animals as she could. This greeting is one that just the two of them share—a baby tiger and her daddy.

“Hi, angel.” Marcus greets me and palms the back of my head, slanting his lips over mine in a hot kiss before pulling back to meet my gaze.

“Hi.”

I get lost for a moment in the earth and air of his irises, entranced as always by the rich brown and bright blue. When he steps away, letting the spell dissipate, I realize he and Theo brought someone else with them.

Caleb.

“Hey, sis.” My brother lifts a hand in greeting as he steps forward. He keeps his dark hair trimmed short these days, a little longer on top and carefully styled.

The first time he called me “sis,” I think it just sort of slipped out by accident. It was about a year ago now, and as soon as he said the word, a flush crept up his cheeks and he got all flustered. Now it rolls off his tongue without a second thought.

We’ve taken a long road to get here, but it was worth the effort. Worth the stops and starts, the awkwardness and hard conversations.

I grin at him. “Hey. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“We had to meet with a real estate agent who’s been laundering money for us. Guy was getting skittish,” Marcus explains, accepting Cassy as Theo turns her over so she can greet him too. “Since Caleb’s been helping handle those negotiations, I figured he should come along too.”

“How’d it go?” I ask, my expression turning serious.

The first year after Luca’s death was one of a lot of sleepless nights and long days, as the men and I, along with Caleb and Victoria, worked hard to solidify our grasp on the city. Things have been pretty calm since then, all things considered. Having power spread out helps keep people lower on the food chain from getting too antsy, and we haven’t had any big disturbances in the last couple years.

“Fine. We renegotiated the terms, and we’ll have to keep an eye on him to make sure he holds up his end of the deal, but we shouldn’t have any more problems.”

Marcus’s voice is confident and easy, and he grins at our daughter as he speaks. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that the two parts of my life can co-exist so naturally, but they do. Although domestic bliss and criminal activity seem like diametric opposites, somehow it all comes together in a way that just works.

Cassy starts repeating the story Ryland was telling her earlier, eager to fill Theo and Marcus in on all the details. My husbands listen intently as they move deeper into the house, heading toward the kitchen.

I hang back, glancing at Caleb. “You want to stay for dinner? It’s been a couple weeks.”

He grimaces, and I think I detect a slight flush in his cheeks. “Can’t tonight. Maybe next week though?”

“Yeah, sure.” I narrow my eyes a little. “Why not tonight?”

His mouth drops open partway, then he closes it, pursing his lips against a smile. “Damn. You’ve really got this big sister thing down now, don’t you?”

“That’s not an answer,” I remind him dryly.

He sighs, puffing out his cheeks slightly. “Fine. I’ve got… a date tonight.”

My eyebrows shoot up. We only started talking about this kind of stuff within the past year or two, as we’ve slowly reconnected and gotten closer. But even before that, I’m pretty sure I would’ve known if he was dating someone, and he hasn’t for a long time.

All that shit with his adoptive parents made him distrustful of people for a long time. Understandably, really. They lied to him for pretty much his entire life, using him as a pawn instead of loving and protecting him the way parents should do.

Now that I have a kid of my own, I actually hate them more for what they did. Now that I know what it feels like to have my heart outside of my body, to be willing to do anything to protect my baby girl, I cannot fathom the decision any of these men’s parents—real or adoptive—made to subject them to the ruthless, chaotic violence of Luca’s game.

“Who is she?” I prompt, curiosity rising inside me.

There’s a protective instinct too. I wouldn’t hesitate to beat a bitch down if she hurt my brother. But after keeping his heart locked up for so long, I’m glad to see Caleb is getting out there. And if the blush on his cheeks is any indication, he actually really likes this woman.

“We met at Gravity,” he tells me. “She came in with a friend but spent the whole evening at the bar with me.”

Gravity is a nightclub he bought a few years ago. It’s become a useful front and base of operations, and the thing he’s poured most of his time into. Sometimes I’ve wondered if the reason he keeps himself so busy with work and so closed off from new relationships is because he’s still trying to do penance for the shit he did in what feels like another lifetime now.

If that’s the case, I hope this is a sign that he’s finally starting to forgive himself.

I forgave him a long time ago. I’ve held onto a lot of grudges in my life, but that was one that didn’t feel worth clinging to. And I knew there would never be a chance in hell my men would forgive Caleb if I didn’t, so I had good reason to try.

“Name?” I prompt. I know I won’t get too much more out of him, at least not until they’ve had their first date. But he better at least give me that.

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before he gives in. “Ariel.”

I chuckle. “You’re dating a Disney princess.”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, smiling too. His eyes go a little unfocused, like he’s summoning up a memory of her in his mind. “She’s no princess.”

I laugh outright at that. Of course my brother wouldn’t go for a princess. We may all be the de facto rulers of Halston, but none of us are royalty. We’re not kings or queens, princes or princesses.

None of us are posh enough for that.

“All right,” I say, grudgingly letting him off the hook—for now. “But dinner next week. Definitely. I need to hear all about it.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He gives me an affectionate side-arm hug, then turns for the door. “Give Cass a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

He lets himself out, and I grin softly as I pad through the house toward the kitchen. It wouldn’t surprise me if the girl Caleb is seeing tonight is covered in tattoos and maybe a piercing or two. He hasn’t dated much, or at all, in the past few years, but I think I’ve gotten to know him well enough by now to guess his type.

My husbands are all gathered in the kitchen with Cassy. She’s perched on Marcus’s lap as he sits on one of the tall stools that lines the bar along one wall. Ryland leans against one of the kitchen counters while Theo rifles through the fridge, pulling out ingredients for dinner.

None of them notice me at first, and I hesitate in the doorway, just looking my fill—trying to soak up the sight and commit it to memory.

The three men are talking in low voices, the deep tones a perfect counterpoint to each other. Cassy happily plays with Marcus’s hand, her little fingers curling around his larger ones.

For a moment, my chest feels so full I almost can’t breathe. I don’t know how the fuck I got so lucky.

I grew up without a family.

But somehow, I found the perfect one.

***

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Want to read a complete reverse harem romance series with four hot guys and a heroine who knows how to handle herself? Check out Fallen University: Year One, the first book in my fast-burn paranormal trilogy. Turn the page to see the description and cover. Free to read in Kindle Unlimited!

AMAZON TOP 100 BESTSELLER

Did you know ordinary people can be turned into demons? I sure didn’t. Until it happened to me.

One day, I was a regular college student, working a boring job and studying for finals—and the next, I was transformed into some strange creature of the night.

Now I’ve got powers I don’t understand, I can change my appearance with a thought, and I’m having all kinds of odd… cravings.

If I thought all this bullshit was gonna get me out of going to college though, I’ve got another think coming. Nope, I still need an education. Except the classes at Fallen University are on things like “Curses and Hexcraft” and “Magical Combat”.

It’s not all bad. There are these four hot as hell guys I keep bumping into—Kingston, Jayce, Xero, and Kai. I’m not sure if I should trust them; they’ve each got secrets of their own, and they’re definitely dangerous.

But that craving I’ve been having?

It’s pulling me right toward them.

Yup, things are about to get real interesting at FU.

**Available now on AMAZON and AUDIBLE.**

BOOKS BY CALLIE ROSE

Boys of Oak Park Prep

Savage Royals

Defiant Princess

Broken Empire

Kings of Linwood Academy

The Help

The Lie

The Risk

Ruthless Games

Sweet Obsession

Sweet Retribution

Sweet Salvation

Fallen University

Year One

Year Two

Year Three

Claimed by Wolves

Fated Magic

Broken Bond

Dark Wolf

Alpha Queen

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Books by Callie Rose