Kings of Blood and Money (Underworld Kings)

One weak moment with her, kissing her, feeling her against my body, and I’m pussy-whipped. I haven’t even tasted her pussy or felt it around my cock, and it was already controlling my actions. Seeing the bruises I left on her body cracked something within me. I can’t allow it to continue, can’t hone in on those emotions clawing their way out of me to get to her.

“I fucked up,” Remi says, walking into my room unannounced. “But you didn’t need to be so harsh with her.”

“She used her body with both of us so we let our guards down.”

“I don’t believe that, and neither do you. You’re reaching because you’re afraid.” He strides across my room, planting his ass in my chair.

I narrow an icy glare his way. “Afraid, brother?” I’m fucking exhausted down to the bone. This back and forth between Freya and I has become more than a game.

“Of feeling something for her. You’ve spent years hating her, blaming her for shit that had nothing to do with her—”

“She’s a Gallo,” I roar, punching a hole through the wall so I don’t smash his face in.

Blinking and shaking his head, he says, “No, she’s a Remington, Noah. She has nothing to do with that bastard. She never has. The moment she came here, she became ours.”

Ours.

Damn him for being right. I don’t want him to be right. “I feel like I’m betraying them,” I breathe out, bracing my other hand against the wall, inhaling rapidly.

“Do you think Mom would want you to hate an innocent girl who is as much a victim as all of us?”

Drumming his fingers along the armrest, he continues. “What if things were reversed and Rose had been taken to the enemy’s house? Would you want them to hate her?”

“Rose would be her age now. She’d be up there in the room next to hers.”

“But she’s not, and that’s not going to change. It hurts, but it’s not Freya’s fault—it’s not her burden to bear. Her hands are clean.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” I tell him honestly. Pushing off the wall, I collapse onto my bed.

“Stop what?” He gets to his feet, crossing the room and sitting down next to me.

“Stop hating her.” I cover my face with my hands.

Sighing, he slaps a palm down on my knee. “You already have.”

Coming down to find Freya and my father having breakfast, I almost turn around and go back to bed.

Tension cloaks the air, thickening the atmosphere, alerting my body to our close proximity.

I sit opposite her. She doesn’t look up at me as she pushes eggs around her plate. My father looks between us, a shadow passing over his face. I don’t think he’s ever seen me sit at a table with her.

“Tell me what I missed while I was away.”

He’s looking at Freya, but I answer. “Nothing exciting. Mostly work, little play.”

“Freya,” he says her name for her response, and she recoils a fraction before covering it up.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’ll do now that I’ve finished school.” She places a piece of bacon into her mouth.

“You’ll go to college,” Father announces, like it’s a given.

Freya’s head shoots up to look at him, her long hair falling on her face. “Is that an option for me?” she asks, almost bewildered.

Picking up a mug of coffee, he swigs from it before he says, “Of course.”

“Remi and I didn’t go to college,” I remind him, thanking Dominque when she enters the room to place a plate in front of me.

“You have a place within the family business. College wouldn’t have prepared you for that.” He jerks his hand to the buffet style breakfast laid out on the table, silently telling me to help myself.

“Maybe I can work in the family business too, what is it exactly they do for you?” Freya asks, there’s a bite to her tone. Critical and brave.

“That’s none of your concern. You’ll pick a college and that will be the next step for you,” he states, no room for rebuttal.

The thought of her leaving this house once made me happy, but now, a hole expands in my chest at the thought of not seeing her.

“You once told me you were a doctor.” She continues fishing. She won’t like it when the shark she hooks on her line bites her head off.

“Of sorts.”

“What does that mean?” she bares her teeth, exasperated.

Placing his mug down, he picks up a napkin and wipes his clean hands on it.

“Is there something you want to ask me, Freya? I don’t like beating around the bush.”

“Who was in the box last night?” she asks, arms folding under her breasts.

Fuck me.

His eyes flare, clashing with mine, his tone razor-sharp. “Sneaking around, are we?”

“I got thirsty. Why will none of you answer the question?”

“Because it’s not your business to be asking questions,” he reminds her, his eyes not leaving mine.