Bianca let out a snarl of frustration at him but didn’t bite back. It didn’t stop Levin from surging forward with more words for her.
“You made that choice, bumblebee. Not me. I only reacted to it. So if you’re pissed about me being with someone new, then that’s all on you because you said you were done. Don’t play the fucking victim. Besides, you’re married to Dom now. How about focusing on your husband and not on all the cock you can get like some dick-deprived whore.”
“Fuck you, Levin,” she shouted, jumping to her feet.
I could've stopped her, but I let her rush forward. Her palm connected with Levin’s face with a loud crack that echoed around us. His head snapped to the side before he straightened himself and glowered down at her, his blue eyes flashing with fury.
“Don’t ever call me a fucking whore again,” she hissed at him. “Or I swear, I’ll gut you in your sleep.”
I rose to my feet as Vincent stepped forward. Based on past experience, I knew Bianca wasn’t giving Levin an empty threat. I reached her before Vincent did and wrapped my arm around her waist, hauling her against me. Anger vibrated through her small frame.
Levin stepped back, his body trembling. He turned on his heel and stalked toward Celeste, who stood at the top of the stairs with her mouth open. I knew she hadn’t heard a word since she’d only just appeared with a drink in her hand, but she’d definitely seen Bianca slap him.
“It’s OK, wasp,” I murmured.
She spun in my arms and clung to me. I wound my arms fully around her and peeked at Vincent.
He sighed and shook his head, his gaze following Levin with Celeste. If I knew Levin like I thought I did, he’d soon be angry-fucking Celeste as he tried to bury his pain. He was stubborn and violent. There wasn’t anything I could do for him. It had to come from Bianca. I accepted it would take some time. They’d been at one another’s throats since the beginning. It made sense the animosity between them wouldn’t go away.
Levin getting this deal for me had only made shit worse though. We all knew it. But Levin did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Nothing would change his mind once it was made up.
And Bianca… that woman was fire and brimstone on a good day. On a bad? No comparison.
“I’ll go get her a drink,” Vincent said, his gaze raking over her.
I nodded. I needed to get her more pliable. Getting her wasted would hopefully work in my favor in more ways than one.
He went down the stairs to the keg. I brought Bianca with me back to my seat and pulled her onto my lap.
“Look at me,” I commanded softly, tilting her head up.
Her eyes were bloodshot as she stared back at me.
“That can’t happen again. Either you get over your anger and pain and tell Levin how you feel, or you let him go and stop making fucking scenes in front of people. You can’t have it both ways—”
She started to turn her head, but I grabbed her face and forced her gaze back to mine.
“You can’t have it both ways. If you’re not going to tell him you still care, then I don’t want to see you behave that way again. Do you understand me?”
“You can fuck off with him,” she snarled, moving to get off my lap.
I let out a growl and hauled her back down.
“Be-fucking-have, wasp. I’m trying to get you to understand this isn’t just affecting you and him. It’s fucking with both Vincent and me. There’s a lot of heavy shit going on right now. We have to deal with my father in a week’s time. I don’t even know how I’m going to get us out of that mess without shooting him in the fucking head. We need to tread carefully with Vasiliev. The scales are tipping, and we don’t need it fucked up because you throw a temper tantrum. I love your fire but quell it for now.”
“You think I’m overreacting?” She stared at me, her big blue eyes wide and filled with disbelief.
“I think given what Vasiliev was going to do to you, yes.”
“You were going to kill me, Dominic. Levin pressed a gun to my head—”
“I don’t need the fucking details. I was there,” I snapped at her. I hated the memory of her sobbing on her knees, her life on the cusp of a fucking shallow grave. Although, if Levin had pulled the trigger on her, I’d have given her a proper burial in a place of my choosing. My connections ran far and deep.
She flinched away from me, making me hate the snarling monster I constantly tried to keep on lockdown within me.
Reaching out, I brushed her hair from her face as I tried to reel in my frustration. “The point is, you should hate Vasiliev the most. Yet he was the one you wept for. It broke us all to see that. Levin saved your life and Vasiliev's. And Vincent… he never wanted you harmed. None of us did. You didn’t hear the way he sobbed for you when he thought you were gone. You didn’t see me broken and praying Levin would defy me and save you. I know I’m asking a lot of you for you to believe me when I say I will fucking die to save you. So will Vincent and Levin, even if you think Levin hates you. But believe me. Now, we have more important shit to worry about than this bullshit between you and Levin. Figure it out, sort it quietly, but fucking sort it. Got it?”
She nodded mutely, a sour expression on her face.
“Wasp…” I warned.
“Yes, Dominic,” she grunted, her bottom lip jutting out.
“Good girl,” I praised. “Now let’s drink some shitty alcohol and have a decent enough time, OK?”
“OK,” she said, her body still tense.
I knew the urge to fight me was there, but I saw the hesitation in her eyes. She knew we had a lot at stake in the coming weeks.
“Shit tastes like piss,” Vincent said.
I took one of the cups and pressed it to Bianca’s lips.
“Open,” I commanded.