Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games 2)
Marcus is silent on the drive over, stewing in his own thoughts. I couldn’t say exactly what they are, but his grip on the steering wheel is so tight that I’m pretty sure he’s imagining it’s Victoria’s neck.
She lives closer to Theo’s place than I expected, and the drive only takes us twenty minutes. It makes me wonder how many of the other competitors live in the same general area of Halston.
It wouldn’t surprise me. The city is pretty divided between the “haves” and the “have nots,” and everyone in the game is wealthy and well-connected somehow.
When Marcus pulls up outside her place, I stare out the window at it, blinking in surprise. Not because of how huge and elaborate it is, but because it’s neither of those things. It’s nice—modern and classy—but from the way Victoria carried herself at the party last night, I would’ve expected her to live in a fucking palace.
She carried herself like a queen. Like someone who
’s had everything she could ever want handed to her all her life. But that’s not true. I remember what Theo told me about her, how she grew up with practically nothing before her family found their way into massive amounts of wealth.
Maybe that’s why her house isn’t some monstrosity dripping in gold. People who know what it’s like to go hungry tend to value what they have more than people who’ve never wanted for anything—at least, in my experience.
They’re also scrappy as fuck, which is normally a quality I admire. But it’s hard to muster up even grudging respect when this bitch wants to marry the man I’m falling in love with.
Marcus cuts the engine, then turns to me, his eyes burning. “You sure about this, angel?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation or doubt in my voice.
He curses under his breath. “Dammit. I swore to fuckin’ god I was done letting you step in front of bullets for me. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s what Victoria is. She’s a stray goddamn bullet.”
“No,” I say dryly, echoing my words from back in Theo’s kitchen. “She’s a woman.”
The men all know Victoria better than I do. But I can relate to her on a level they can’t.
Not that I think we’re gonna braid each other’s hair and paint each other’s nails like this is a fucking slumber party, but maybe she’ll say something to me that she wouldn’t say to them. Maybe she’ll let me see some opening, some hint of weakness.
“Right. Let’s get this shit over with.” Marcus scrubs a hand through his hair before shoving open his door.
He eases out of the car gingerly, and I wonder how much pain he’s in. He told me he spent the first week at Victoria’s place so out of it that the whole thing is a blur, but he improved rapidly after that.
Still, I worry that he’ll push too hard or too fast in his recovery and fuck himself up worse.
He opens my door for me, then leads me up the walk toward Victoria’s house. His grip on my hand is bruising, and his shoulders are rigid and tight. My stomach churns with unease as he raps sharply on the door with his knuckles.
I hope this isn’t a huge fucking mistake.
Chapter 19
No one answers for a long moment.
Marcus bangs on the door again, harder this time. I know he didn’t want to come here, but now that we’re outside Victoria’s place, I get the feeling he’s not gonna leave until our business is done. He’s not about to back down and let her win.
A few seconds later, the door swings open.
Victoria cocks an eyebrow, her green eyes narrowing. Her auburn hair is piled on her head in a messy bun today, and although she still carries herself with a sort of elegant, swan-like grace, she’s replaced the extravagant evening gown with a pair of carefully distressed jeans and a thin t-shirt that clings to the curves of her body.
“Marcus.” She smirks a little as the surprise fades from her face. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon. Did you miss it? I’ve still got your room made up if you want to stay a while longer. Or did you come to discuss wedding colors? I really can’t decide on the perfect color palette.”
“Go fuck yourself, Victoria.” Marcus steps forward, pushing the door open farther. “Ayla wants to talk to you. And then we’re leaving. Both of us.”
It’s a testament to Victoria’s strength that she doesn’t give way before the force of Marcus’s wrath. He’s towering over her like a predator about to strike, but she doesn’t back up or quail. Instead, she shifts her gaze past him to focus on me, an assessing look flitting across her face.
“Does she, now?” she murmurs. Then she nods. “All right. Come on in.”
I keep my own face hard and blank as she ushers us both inside. Marcus’s gait is still stiff, and I can tell he’s refusing to show any weakness, but Victoria purses her lips as she scans him up and down.
“While you’re here, you should have Doctor Brenson come look at you,” she tells him.