Devils: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance: (The Brotherhood Book 2)

Home > Other > Devils: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance: (The Brotherhood Book 2) > Page 8
Devils: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance: (The Brotherhood Book 2) Page 8

by K. M. Raya


  Ellis hisses and shifts in his chair. Every muscle in my body tenses. “What does Alexi have to do with anything?” I ask.

  Sal’s green eyes bore into mine, and something about his expression makes me think he’s laughing at us. “Never you mind, young Draven. Cassini is being cooperative, but he works for you now. Make no mistake, gentlemen, you’ve inherited an amazing opportunity. What you make of it is entirely up to you.” The room goes silent.

  Sal’s face morphs into a smile that feels oily all over. “I am inviting you to stay in my home until the contracts are drawn up and details are ironed out. It just so happens we have a wedding to attend and it seems you were not around to receive the invitation. I shall introduce you to your future colleagues, and familiarize you with how things work in my employment since something is telling me the selfish bastardos before you failed to prepare their own heirs properly. It’s a shame, really. Nineteen years and what do you have to show for it? You are boys with guns who want to act like men.” His smile grows wide. Sal stands from his chair, sliding it behind him as he straightens his tie. “I’ll make men out of you in no time. Until then, please enjoy my home as if it were your own. I’m afraid I am running late for a meeting, but please enjoy your dinner, gentlemen. Vinny will show you to your rooms.”

  Sal drifts over towards Angel, bending down to kiss her on the forehead. I can feel my knuckles popping as I ball my fingers into tight fists. My eyes hone in on Angel’s tight face. A barely there cringe has me puzzled. It’s as if her body is trying to naturally shy away from her father’s touch, but she’s not letting herself show it.

  It bothers me more than it should.

  Angel

  “I know what this looks like, but I—” I start to say, but a sharp laugh from Carter cuts me off.

  “If you’re about to try and convince us that we have it all wrong, you might as well save your breath. Nothing you say will dig you out of this one, we’re not as stupid as you think we are.” His dark blue eyes are hard on mine, and the lack of emotion makes me swallow thickly. “I’ll admit though, you really had us going. Some of those kisses might have even been genuine, unless you’re just that good of an actress.”

  Warmth hits my back and a shadow looms over my chair. “It's time to go, Miss Valentino,” Nic grumbles, causing my teeth to grind. His hand touches my shoulder and it takes everything inside of me not to jab him in the nuts. There’s something strange about the touchy way he’s acting towards me—almost like he knows it’s pissing the guys off. I wonder for a moment, if Papa put him up to it.

  “Miss Valentino?” Holden sneers—his lips are turned up in a wry smirk that doesn't suit him at all. “Moving up in the world, are we princessa?” Hearing his speak to me like I’m the enemy again makes me ill. Gone is the man who held me in his arms as we overlooked the bay only weeks ago. That man doesn’t exist in those eyes.

  “Miss…” Nic prompts again.

  Irritated, I spin around in my chair and pin him with a glare. “Can you give me a goddamn break?!” I brush his hand from my shoulder while he just stands there frowning. His greenish eyes are dark swirling pools of dead moss that make me want to avert my eyes. There’s cruelty there. But he wouldn’t lash out outside of the training room. It’s not his place. “Go brood somewhere else, I don’t need you breathing down my neck right now.”

  “Salvatore gave me stric—”

  “Yeah, I know.” I wave him away. “Strict orders to keep me safe, blah, blah… This is my fucking house, buddy. It’s not my safety I’m worried about,” I lie. “Back off and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to go.”

  For a second, I think he might argue, but his jaw clamps shut, and he takes a large, reluctant step out of my personal space. I breathe a little easier as he steps into the next room—shaking his head and mumbling under his breath. Still, I find it hard to turn back around, knowing that the guys are studying every move I make.

  “Nice place you have here, little bird,” Holden says with a low whistle. He’s standing now, his dark eyes traveling over the paintings on the walls. “Not really my style, but classy for sure. I’m guessing mob business is booming?”

  “Let’s not pretend like the Brotherhood isn’t basically the same thing. Get off your high fucking horse, Holden, and stop pretending you don’t know me. You know it’s not what it looks like. Like Carter said; you’re not that stupid.” Their eyes all flicker to me in bemusement. Leaning forward, I lower my voice to a whisper. “I didn’t have a choice… trust me, I wouldn't have come back here if it could have gone any other way.”

  “Save the sob story, Angel. We found your secret cell phone—the messages to your precious Papa… we know all about the correspondence between you and his people, so don’t bother trying to make shit up. I just wish we would have found it a little sooner, then maybe we wouldn’t have had to slum it in Vancouver for half a year, sharing a bed with a lying, backstabbing double agent.”

  Reeling back, I have to blink away the stinging in my eyes. Papa must have planted some seriously incriminating evidence on that phone I left behind. Sure, I had the secret phone, but it was only to keep contact with Mama, nothing else so sinister.

  “You really think that? After everything we’ve been through, you really think that low of me?” I breathe. “I know things look bad, and I can’t blame you for being suspicious, but think for just a second about our history… how many times did you try and catch me out? How many times did you have me followed or taken or... tortured?” My throat tightens as flashes of that horrible white room flit through my mind. Four of them cringe before masking their reactions quickly. “How many times are we going to repeat this same song and dance? You know me—the same way I know you. You know this isn’t what it looks like.”

  Holden clenches his strong jaw and glances to Ellis, who just shakes his head before turning his face away, staring at nothing but a wall full of portraits with his arms crossed over his chest. “I believe what I see with my own eyes, Angel. You can’t lie your way past our defenses, not anymore. I might have believed you if I hadn’t noticed that every single one of those phone calls was made during the exact times you were away at one of your training classes. Every photo was timestamped to match up with your shifts at Donny’s. Fuck, Angel, do you think we’re that stupid? Batting your lashes and spreading your legs isn’t going to help you this time.”

  I hear the words he’s saying, but it’s as if this entire night is going in slow motion. After months of living with my four men and relying on each other for everything, my brain refuses to reconcile the men I know with the ones in front of me. The look at me like I’m a stranger… even Finley, though his face is practically unreadable.

  “Fin… you too?” I ask him, a slight pleading note in my voice. There was a time when I wasn’t too sure about Finley Cassini. After his friends tried to start a brawl with my guys and I stopped it with a daring flash of my gun, I never could have foreseen Fin working with them again. He asked for my help once, and I gave it to him. I had hoped that if it ever came down to it and I needed a favor in return, he’d be the first to offer it up. But I may have been wrong yet again.

  His hard-grey eyes soften ever so slightly, but a jab to his side from Captain wipes the look off his face quickly. “Sorry, baby girl, things aren’t looking good for you.” He shrugs helplessly and I feel my last sliver of hope wither away and die. “I don’t think your gonna win this one.”

  Standing to my feet, my chair slides back with a screech. They watch me as I brush my hands down the skirt of my dress awkwardly. Raising my eyes, I make a point to meet each of their eyes individually. Carter looks resolved, while Holden just looks angry. Captain looks sad while Fin and Ellis avert their eyes completely. My stomach clenches, making me feel like my picked at dinner might soon be making a reappearance. Still though, I raise my chin in utter defiance.

  “You aren’t the men I thought you were,” I whisper. I run a hand along my long dark hair as I turn toward
s the door—feeling them watch me. “I hope you decide to pull your heads out of your collective asses sometime in the near future.” I let my lips turn up into a mean smirk. “You won’t survive here otherwise; I promise you that.”

  ✽✽✽

  Sweeping through the door, I make across the foyer and into a small hallway before I let any sort of emotion show itself.

  Turning abruptly, my fist collides with the wall, sending jolts of stinging pain up my arms, but the pain is welcome. I’m so angry I could spit. How fucking dare they?! How dare they pretend like the past year never mattered? I gave them everything… and for what? For them to turn their backs on me at the earliest opportunity? All it took was meddling from the mob and suddenly it’s like the last year never happened. In Vancouver, things were perfect, if only for a little while. It was like a little bubble had formed over the five of us and nobody on the outside could ever penetrate it. We looked out for each other—cared for each other like a family. I thought we were passed this nonsense, but clearly they still have some trust issues.

  I punch the wall again, fury coursing through my body in waves. I don’t even really know who I’m angry at right now. I don’t know if I’m mad at myself, or them, or Papa… well, I’m always mad at Papa, but right now I just feel hollow. I feel lost and scared, like the little girl I used to be when I lived in this massive house. My fist hits again, and again until small splatters of blood decorate the wall. Red stains my white dress as it trickles down my arm, but I don’t give a shit. I have so much anger inside of me. So much rage battling with sadness and longing.

  Before my fist can hit the wall yet another time, a hand grabs my arm, yanking it back from the plaster. Grunting, I whirl around, trying to rip free of their strong grip. My shoulder blades slam against the wall and pain lances up my spine. When my eyes are able to focus, my throat closes up as I stare back at Nic.

  “Stop it, now!” he spits. His lips are pulled into a grimace. He grabs my upper arms tightly, holding me in place. “What would your father think of this mess, you silly child?”

  “Let go,” I grunt. His grip only tightens. “I said let me go, Nicolas!” I’m not yelling, but my voice is insistent and hard.

  “You are acting like a fool in your father’s house—” he hisses. “You think he needs to see your weakness? I know you’ve been gone, and it’s made you soft… but this is disappointing. Where is the woman I knew before?” His eyes search my face. “Where is the fighter that made every man in this home tremble? Pull yourself together.”

  I go utterly still. Not quite sure I heard him correctly. Did he just compliment me and insult me in the same sentence? I can’t quite wrap my mind around the contradiction. His plan must have worked though, because his face relaxes. My fingernails dig into his biceps as he continues to hold me. I can tell it hurts because of the way he clenches his jaw and grits his teeth. “If you want to hit something, then save it for the training room. There is a time and a place to lash out, but not in the presence of company.”

  “And so the plot thickens…” comes a snapping voice from down the hall. Nic’s hands don’t leave my arms—still holding me against the wall as I look up to see Ellis watching us with his arms folded over his chest. “Your charms know no bounds, baby girl.”

  I know it looks bad on his end. The dim light of the hallway probably hides the blood splatter behind me. All he can see is me against this wall, pinned here by my burly bodyguard and there’s nothing I can say to explain it away.

  “I hope you know your pretty princessa was a busy little bird these past few months away,” Ellis mocks Nic with a sickening smirk. “That tight little pussy felt like heaven around my cock… and don’t even get me started on the things that mouth could do—”

  “Fuck off Ellis!” I snap. “You don’t know what you’re talking about and you’re making something out of nothing, just go back to your dinner and leave me the hell alone!”

  His eyes shutter as he bites the inside of his cheek. I can tell he aches to come closer. The look in his grey eyes spell murder. “Don’t worry, babe, I’m not here to cockblock you. I just thought you’d ought to know that we see right through your lies. I don’t know what sick mind games your father has you weaving, but you can give it up before you make an even bigger fool of yourself.”

  Before I can respond, Ellis turns on his heel and stalks back towards the dining room—no doubt about to spread more lies about me to the others. My heart drops into my stomach as Nic positions me back on my feet steadily. I slap his hands from my body and glare up into his eyes. “You put your hands on me outside of training ever again, and I’ll cut your dick off while you sleep.”

  Holden

  I feel like I’m on some other planet right now as I stalk my way across the Valentino estate this morning. This place is unreal. I don’t even think the White House is as heavily guarded as Salvatore’s mansion.

  There are goons everywhere. They walk in groups of two or three, sometimes only one, but there’s at least one at every corner. It’s almost laughable how much security Sal needs. I don’t know much about the man, but I do know he’s dangerous—possibly one of the most dangerous men in the country. I’m not sure how much Angel actually knows about the operations her father is involved in, or the extent of his crimes. I won't stand here and act like my hands are totally clean—they’re not, by far. But from some of the things Finley and Captain have been saying… Sal and his thugs are involved in some pretty heavy stuff.

  Last I heard, Fin was looking further into Sal’s involvement with a small Russian company based out of Brooklyn. Dimas is the name—unfamiliar, yes, but apparently they’ve been closely associated with the Valentino’s since sometime in the early nineties. Dimas seems to be popping up on transaction histories, investment portfolios as well as most of the tax documents Fin was able to acquire. Something about it gives me the tinglies. Not the pleasant kind. I remember Angel telling us that it was the Russians who’d purchased her sister Sofia and married her off to one of their higher ups.

  Men like Sal were bound to deal in things like drugs and weapons—being in the mob it sort of came with the territory, but Dimas wasn’t a drug manufacturer like Black Pharma back in Seaside. No, turns out, Dimas is the name of a gentleman’s club out in Brooklyn, run by a man named… well, Dimitri.

  The further we looked into the shady operation, the more unsettling information we found. It seems Dimas has a long-standing partnership with Black Pharma—most likely the buying and selling of untested designer drugs. The gentleman’s club is just a front, we’re starting to figure out. Drugs go in and profit comes out… but where is it going? What is it purchasing? That’s the question here. We’ve been told nothing so far. Sal remains tight lipped until he believes he can trust us fully, but in my opinion, he’s already come to the conclusion that’ll never happen. It’s only a matter of time until he turns on us the same way he did our fathers.

  ✽✽✽

  Entering a large building to the left-hand side of the property, I can immediately feel the change in the air. It’s warmer in here—almost stuffy. The smell of sweat and body odor assaults me as I make my way further in.

  I was told this building houses a gym and training facility—state of the art and fucking expensive, so I figured I’d check it out if we’re being forced to stay here for the time being. I pass room after room of equipment, impressed at the cleanliness of the place. There are several men running on treadmills who ignore me as I pass. I don’t miss the fact that every single one of them is fucking jacked to the max. I wonder if these men live here, or if they ever leave to live their own lives.

  “Get it together!” booms a man's voice from the end of the hall. His accent is thick, but he sounds young. I follow the sounds of skin slapping matted floors until I reach a dark grey door with a large window at the top that looks in on a vast training room covered in blue wrestling mats.

  More of that man’s gruff commands filter through the door along wit
h grunts and curses, so I peer inside and take a look around, only to pull up short. Angel circles a man twice her size, clenching her jaw tightly and narrowing her dark eyes. Scanning her from head to toe, I can’t help the way my dick throbs at the sight of all that creamy skin covered in a sheen of slick sweat. She’s wearing a black sports bra that shows off that raven tattoo that snakes up her torso. My mind flickers to all the times I’ve run my tongue over those lines… She wears a tight pair of bike shorts, making her legs look miles long and her thick, dark blue hair is up in a high ponytail that falls long enough to graze her shoulder blades. She looks fucking delicious and I want to shoot myself for even letting my mind wander there. That’s how she managed to trick us the first time.

  The man, who I’m realizing now is the same one from the dining room last night—the one who’d stood way too close to her, circles around, sizing her up before lunging. He swipes low, but Angel leaps just in time, causing his hands to grasp at empty air. Landing lightly on her feet, she kicks out her bare foot, landing a blow to his shoulder that satisfies me for some reason when he grunts in pain. I watch in fascination as my little bird pounces and gets in a few good licks to his cheek. The man spits blood and snarls.

  The behemoth moves faster when she gets too cocky and flings her up and over using her momentum to throw her off balance. He grabs her by the bicep, squeezing his fingers into her soft skin. Seeing his hands on her makes me see red. When her back hits the mat and he pins her down, it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to grab him by the neck and let him know just how bad of an idea it is to touch what belongs to me. Cursing myself, I have to remind myself that she doesn't belong to me—not anymore.

  The man holds her down by placing his knees on her thighs. She grimaces in pain. My hands tighten into tight fists as I watch the way his meaty palm slides over her skin. There’s no reason he needs to be touching her like that. She’s already down and she should have been tapped out by now, but he just holds her there. I watch in morbid fascination as his face lowers to hers slowly… her face turns away from his slightly and she shuts her eyes, and I suddenly can’t take any more of this shit.

 

‹ Prev