The woman before me finishes up, and I don’t miss the way she pauses as she exits, eyeing me up and down with a cautious stare, clearly not sure how I fit into this little DeAngelis brother combo. A grin pulls at my lips, and seeing the darkness filling my eyes, she quickly huffs and scurries away as though the idea of what I could be capable of doesn’t scare the shit out of her.
Laughing to myself, I push my way through to the small, private bathroom, and quickly clean myself up. I don’t know how Marcus does it. One second, we’re talking about our imminent death at the hands of the Moretti Mafia Family, and the next thing I know, Marcus is making me scream so fucking loud that we sure as hell would have raised the dead.
He came hard, and damn it, I’m positive that I came even harder. Nothing could have possibly made it any better … except for Roman and Levi joining the party. We only got to experience the three of us that one time on top of the high-rise building, but I was blindfolded. That night was all about me feeling their pleasure, but if roles were reversed and it was all about their pleasure … well fuck. Butterflies swirl through my stomach at just the thought of what I could do to them. Just to hear that soft growl coming from between Roman’s lips and knowing that it was all because of me would be like all of my Christmases coming at once.
Hearing voices at the door, I quickly focus on what I’m doing, more than aware that I’m getting distracted by just the mere thought of spreading my legs for those devious men.
The voices get louder as they make their way down the hallway. I don’t recognize them, but the harsh, whispered tones have my back stiffening with unease. I quickly wash my hands and move to the bathroom door, pressing my ear right up against it to hear the men standing on the opposite side, clearly unaware of me standing so close.
“We move tonight,” one of the voices says, the dark whispered tone putting me on edge. “We meet back here after the party and finally put an end to this shit.”
“This is our last shot,” another voice says. “If we’re going to make a move, it has to be now. I want blood. I won’t wait any longer.”
Oh, fuck.
My heart races as fear pulses through me. Whoever these men are, they’re planning some kind of attack after the party, and something tells me the boys are their target.
I have to get out of here. I have to warn them, but more than that, I have to figure out who these bastards are.
They speak for a minute longer, giving absolutely nothing else away, and as their voices begin trailing down the hallway, I let out a shaky breath. If I wait a moment longer, they’ll disappear around the corner and any chance of figuring out who they are goes right out the window, but if I walk out of here now, I risk one of them seeing me. And though nobody is as dangerous as the three DeAngelis brothers, the men at this ball can be just as unpredictable and vile. Getting caught could cost me my life, but not taking the risk could mean theirs.
Fuck.
My hands shake as I curl my fingers around the handle and slowly peel the door open. Pushing my way out into the deserted hallway, I make a break for it, keeping my pace calm as the loud clicking on my heels against the marble is bound to give me away.
I glance back over my shoulder and finally find them. The four remaining sons of Victor DeAngelis.
My heart sinks. They’ve worked it out. They know it was us who killed not only their father, but their brother, Antonio, and now they want to make us bleed.
Shit.
They’re right down the opposite end of the long hallway, and just as they go to move around the corner, one of the brother’s peers back up the hall and his eyes come straight to mine, widening with the realization that I was in the bathroom, overhearing their conversation. “Hey,” he calls up the hallway, his brothers immediately looking back at what’s caught his attention.
He turns back to face me and instantly starts making his way back up the hall. I pick up my pace, my heart pounding with fear. “Hey, get back here.”
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I bolt like a fucking line-backer, my heels slamming down on the hard marble.
“I just want to talk,” the guy calls after me, his brothers barreling down the hall after him. “She fucking heard us,” he says back to his brothers.
He quickly gains on me, and I curse myself for wearing a dress. When the fuck will I learn my lesson? From here on out, I wear tights and runners wherever I go, because apparently having one night free of this bullshit isn’t possible.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” My chants match the speed of the irritating clicking coming from the bottom of my heels, and I push myself faster, gripping the hem of my gold dress and yanking it up. Knowing my luck, I’ll probably trip over the expensive material and face plant right into the floor, and while my nose has always had a slight angle to it, I really don’t have the time for a nose job right now.
The man’s long strides are twice as big as mine, and by the time I reach the entrance of the massive ballroom, the fucker is right on my heels.
I barge in through the throng of people, my eyes bouncing around the room in a panic, desperately searching for those three familiar faces. I don’t look back as bumping into someone could put me right into his murderous hands, so instead, I slip and weave through the crowded bodies, ignoring the gasps and grunts from the people I piss off on the way.
My gaze sweeps the room for the third time, and just as I go to take another step, the desperation begins to get the best of me. A rock-hard arm shoots out and captures my waist. My back slams up against a hard chest, and before a scream can tear out of me, Levi’s lips are at my ear. “What happened?” he growls, knowing all too well that only a massive threat could have me running like that.
My gaze snaps back to the entrance of the big room, finding Victor’s son staring after me, watching through a narrowed, pissed-off gaze. I blink, and as if I’d imagined him there, he’s gone.
Roman moves in beside me and I look back just as Marcus moves in front of me, the three of them boxing me in. “I won’t ask you again,” Levi spits, more than able to feel the rush of my pulse beneath his hold. “What happened?”
“Victor’s sons,” I tell them, panting as I try to catch my breath. “They’re planning an attack after the party. They want you all dead.”
24