THE PLAYERS: a MFM Menage Romance (Bad Romance Book 4)

by Shanna Bell

  The man who had raised and taught him everything he knew, in more than one way. Women were not to be trusted. He’d learned that from a young age. His own mother let her boyfriend use him as target practice for his cigarettes and beer bottles. Viking was betrayed by one as well. Best way was to enjoy them while it lasted.

  He inched closer to her, until he could see the amber of her eyes. “Speaking of brothers, Vince is also like my brother,” he whispered into her ear. “We always have each other’s back. Just tell me one more thing. Did you come to me first to piss Vince off?”

  CHAPTER 7

  CARMEN

  Her first instinct was denial. But Sy was right. She did come to him first to piss Vince off. It was also to send Vince a message; that she held him as high in esteem as Sy, which was below zero. If she would be temporarily shackled to not one but two men, this time it would be on her terms.

  Bracing herself, she told him the truth. “Yes.”

  His white brows furrowed and a steel gleam entered his yes.

  Her anxiety peaked up and she felt like she was losing control. Little black dots appeared before her eyes. What if Sy turned into a monster, and lashed out? However, she refused to cower in a corner, afraid to tell the truth or voice an opinion.

  One…

  Two…

  Three…

  She was halfway through counting to ten when she noticed Sy hadn’t moved. He was playing with a curl of hair he had entwined around his finger. There was no aggression that emanated from his powerful body. One that screamed it worked out and could easily break her into two. By the time she’d counted to ten, her heart rate had returned to normal.

  Except now she found herself in the exact same position she’d been trying to avoid, a state which she’d swore she wouldn’t go into again—fear. She refused to bow down to Sy, a man she hardly knew. If he thought she was going to relive her life with Franco, he was mistaken.

  “I’m not Franco’s wife anymore.” She’d meant for those words to come out more firm. Judging by Sy’s faint smile, she hadn’t succeeded.

  “Got the message, loud and clear.”

  Did he really, though? “This is a temporary situation. The second there isn’t a threat to my family anymore, we will go our separate ways. The only one controlling my life will be me.”

  His lips almost touched her throat when his raspy voice whispered, “You say that as if you mean it.”

  She swallowed, but refused to back down. “I do.”

  “Here’s the thing. You may tell yourself that you don’t want anyone to control you, own you, but I think you’re wrong. I think you have no idea what you want ’cause you don’t know the options yet. When all you’ve seen is darkness, you’ll do anything to just stay in the gray. You know, that area which is like twilight, between darkness and light. An area you don’t particularly like but you figure is better than being in the pitch black.”

  Oh, the arrogance. “Let me guess. You’re going to pull me into the light?”

  He chuckled. The deep vibrating sound made goose bumps appear on her skin.

  “Nah, baby. I will light up your world when I plunge into you, just to pull you back with me to the dark side.”

  His voice promised hot, decadent chocolate on a cold winter night. Hold on. Why was she even considering it?

  Get a grip, Carmen. He just outright admitted that he’s bad.

  Like I didn’t already know.

  “No, thank you. I like where I’m at right now. Don’t want any man plunging in me ever again.” She couldn’t be clearer than that, now could she?

  His hand circled her throat, a thumb caressing it. For a man with huge hands, they were gentle. Of course, it was all a facade. The second she let her guard down, he would make her regret it.

  “We don’t always know what we want until we get it. And we definitely don’t always get what we want. You, for example, may not want to admit that you live in a world controlled by men like Keegan and Morelli, but this is your life. If you don’t belong to a man, either Morelli or the Irish will take you out. A woman defying them? They’d make an example—out of you. By the time they’re finished, you’d be begging for death.”

  It made her sick, knowing he was right. She’d heard the horror stories of what had happened to some mobster widows.

  “I hate it,” she whispered.

  “I know.” His eyes hardened when they landed on her bruised knuckles. “What happened before me is over and done. The second you go home with me, you fall under my protection. It means you are mine for as long as we both want. You brave enough to follow?”

  ***

  She had been brave enough to get into his car and go home with him, not knowing that “home” to him was a penthouse above Club Obsidian. Guess she hadn’t thought that one through. Then again, she hadn’t thought much of anything after the Keegan incident, except for wanting to be safe.

  They entered a large foyer, with a gray tiled floor, and a coat rack. He led her into the living room—it was a large, open space with modern furniture and a marble fireplace. As she walked onto the plush cream carpet that led into a big open spaced room, it hit her she hadn’t even packed a bag. Or even told anyone she was coming here. Except for Raul, of course. More than anyone, he deserved to be free. Freed from her and the responsibility over her he believed he had.

  She thought back on Raul and the message she’d send him.

  Coward.

  She internally winced. Sending him a message that she’d sold the casinos to Vince, and would be staying with him, instead of telling him upfront wasn’t exactly an act of courage. The man deserved better. On the other hand, this way she was giving them both a breather. Raul deserved his freedom just as much as she did. At least now he had one less worry. Perhaps he could finally retire and have a life.

  Of course, the old enforcer wasn’t born yesterday. When she didn’t pick up the phone, he’d immediately texted her that Vince was after something. And he was right. What Vince wanted wasn’t what Raul expected though. All he wanted was to clear his conscience. Despite her never being able to trust him again, deep in her heart, she knew he wasn’t a bad man. Unlike Franco, he did have a conscience.

  In a strange way, the two of them were similar. Just like her, Vince was trying to atone for a regret, or in the very least, right a wrong. But some things could never be undone, some wounds would never heal, and some scars would never disappear.

  She followed Sy as he gave her a tour. There were four bedrooms. All of them had their own bathroom. The center of the apartment was its best feature though—an open stainless-steel kitchen that looked like it was never used.

  “We don’t cook,” Sy confirmed her suspicion.

  Part of her couldn’t wait to get her hands on all the equipment and start making up some batter. So, she was a stress baker? Big deal. They never needed to know.

  Their tour ended in the rec room, which was right across the kitchen and two steps down, ending with a fireplace.

  Still a bit nervous, she took her time taking in the room. From the corner of her eye, she could see him sizing her up. During her marriage, she had learned to always look out for where Franco was. Sometimes, it was right behind her. He found it amusing when she got all spooked by him. Other times, when he’d had a few drinks, she would have to duck away from his swatting hands. Compared to Sy, Franco had been a small man. She doubted if she’d recover as fast from a smack of his fists as she did from Franco’s.

  As she studied the pictures above the mantle, she discovered something interesting.

  “There are no pictures of you.” Vince had two; one in his teens with his whole family, including his parents. And one with all his brothers, including Hector, who was an honorary Detta.

  “Pictures remind you of the past. I live in the here and now.”

  His voice was tight. She translated that as Sy didn’t have any fond past memories.

  She was just thinking of a response when the elevator made a sound
and Vince entered a minute later. She tensed as she waited for him to rub it in that she had taken him up on his offer after all.

  But all he said was, “Good, you’re here.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t exactly have another choice.”

  Vince pulled his tie loose and crashed onto the couch. Unwillingly, she tensed and kept her back firmly against the fireplace. From this point in the room, she had a good view of both him and Sy. The two men were a contrast in so many ways. Sy was big, bulky, and blond, dressed in jeans and a Henley. Vince was his polar opposite, in his custom-made suit. Even their body language—one of them sitting, the other one standing—was different. She wasn’t sure how she was going to survive this. Franco had been a dog, but a bite from a dog she could survive. The two man in the room were wolves. Should they attack her, she wouldn’t even stand a chance.

  Her hand curled around a silver candle holder as if by itself. Two pair of eyes followed her move. Sy smirked, Vince sighed.

  “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  “I will,” Sy drawled.

  Vince cursed. “This isn’t the time to—”

  “Like I said before, he’s the nice one," Sy continued as he walked up to her. “Might treat you with kid gloves. Thing is, you’re a woman so I'll treat you like one. My word is my bond and believe me when I say that I will hurt you and you will like it. Before the week is over, I’ll own every piece of your body.”

  Her fingers around the piece of silver tightened. “That’s a bold statement,” she countered.

  “Not the only part of me that’s bold.”

  “Classy.”

  “Nothing classy about hot ’n sticky, sweating bodies fucking into each other.”

  She looked away, only to look right into Vince’s eyes. He didn’t seem annoyed or angry.

  Of course not. The bastard made it clear from the start that he likes sharing his women.

  She pushed away from Sy. “Where is my room?”

  “It will be made ready for you while we’re away,” Vince said.

  “Are we going somewhere?”

  He nodded. “We’re going out. There’s a dress and shoes in the first room to your left. Go put them on. We leave in half an hour.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Vince wanted her to pretty up, so they could go out?

  She had a target on her back, and he wanted to go to a party?

  “Your twenty-four hours are almost over. We need to show Keegan and Morelli who you belong to now. I’m not going to say it again. Get into that dress.”

  “I don’t think so.” She looked at Sy. Surely, he would agree with her that this was a stupid idea. When he didn’t say anything, she simply walked away, deciding the first room on the left would be hers.

  CHAPTER 8

  VINCE

  His eyes hardened as he followed the sway of Carmen’s hips walking away from him. She was always doing that. Ever since his brother had married her sister and they encountered each other at family gatherings, she was giving him her back. He didn’t like it then, and he sure as hell didn’t like it happening under his own damn roof.

  When he had received Sy’s message that Carmen had come to him, he’d known exactly what message she was sending him. He’d known from the start she wouldn’t make it easy, on either of them, but certainly not him. He’d been clear to her about the terms when he’d offered her their protection. Now she was defying a direct order concerning her safety. Even worse, looking at Sy for help.

  If she thought she could pit them against each other, she was mistaken though. To him, sharing her with Sy was more than just a kink; it was a lifestyle. Not everyone got it, nor did they have to. But he and Sy had grown up together, were as close as brothers, and he couldn’t imagine the ornery bastard not being in his life. All they needed was the right woman to complete them. Now, if only he could get Sy on board to take this seriously, and Carmen to not fight him every step of the way. But then again, nothing worth having ever came easy.

  “We need to collar that one fast,” Sy said, watching Carmen’s ass leave the room. The asshole had a smile on his lips.

  “You think?”

  “The sooner she knows the rules of the game, the faster we can play. Defying a direct order. That’s at least ten to that ass. It’s no fun to lash out punishment if she doesn’t know why she’s earned it.”

  He took off his dress jacket and tie. “I’ve told you, Carmen isn’t like that. She doesn’t deal well with pain. She needs to feel safe.”

  “She needs to know boundaries,” Sy disagreed. “If she knows what she can and can’t pull with us, she’ll know she won’t ever need a candleholder to fucking bash our skulls with.”

  “She’s not ready.”

  “So, what, you’re just gonna let her stay in her room all night?”

  “Didn’t say that.” He followed after Carmen, with Sy hot on his trail. He threw her door wide open. She bounced right off of the bed when they came in.

  The red satin dress he’d picked out for her was still on the dresser.

  “Put on that dress. Now.” He couldn’t have her questioning his every move.

  Her hands balled into fists. At least she’d gotten rid of the candle holder. “What if I refuse?”

  He walked up to her, until the back of her knees hit the bed. With a surprised “Oh,” her butt dropped onto the bed. He placed his arms next to her, boxing her in. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sy circle the bed, until he lay behind Carmen. Her shoulders tensed as she felt the bed dip.

  That’s right, sweetheart. Time for you to understand who you’re dealing with.

  He knew the exact moment when Sy touched her back, a finger lazily drawing circles on her spine. Any second now, Carmen could bolt. Thing was, they needed to know beforehand if she would.

  “Let’s get something straight. I promised you that we will protect you. I’ve told you what we want. You are ours now. But we will do it on our terms. Inside the confined rooms of our apartment, you can act any way your heart desires. Outside these premises? We rule. You know the life. Anything you do, the way you act, the things you say, the fucking dress you wear, reflects on us.

  “Word is that Keegan has boasted that, unlike Morelli, he’s not afraid to enter Bratva territory. He’ll be at Flux tonight, enjoying a fucking cocktail, showing he’s a new player in town that wants a piece of Morelli’s turf. If you pull away from our touch, Morelli or Keegan will think we have discord. They’ll see it as a chink in the armor around you. We are the fucking armor that protects you. Now, get in that dress ’cause you’re up for one hell of an Oscar performance. It’s time to show the world whom you belong to.”

  ***

  It wasn’t for another hour before they finally reached Club Flux. The Bratva-owned club was a stronghold Detta Corp. had invested in. They skipped past the long line of people waiting outside. A VIP table was already made up for them.

  “What if Morelli doesn’t show up?” Carmen asked, sitting between them in a private booth. She looked pretty as a picture in her dress.

  “He’ll be here. If he doesn’t show while Keegan does, he’ll lose face.”

  “Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Sy said. “Morelli hasn’t set foot on Bratva territory since the rice wedding.”

  “Rice wedding?”

  “Ancient history,” Vince said, scanning the crowd.

  “Morelli’s wedding to my brother’s girl I told you about,” Sy explained. “She ditched him to be the wife of a rich man. I suggested to go to the wedding to give it some color. Color it red instead of all white with the rice throwing and shit. Hence, rice wedding.”

  Vince sent Sy an annoyed look. Did he really have to tell this now? She was already a flight risk. Then again, everyone in their world knew about the animosity between Morelli and Viking. Carmen would have learned about it sooner or later.

  To her credit, Carmen didn’t look scared or intimidated at all. Nope, his little gypsy just looked annoyed.

&
nbsp; “Was that story supposed to scare me?” she asked.

  “Take it any way you want,” Sy replied.

  Sometimes Vince wanted to shove Sy in a closet to pull him out only when he was needed.

  “Just stay away from Morelli and his wife,” Vince warned her. “Should you ever come across her, don’t engage. Chances of you ever coming between her and Viking are slim to none, but still, should you ever see them together, get out of the way.”

  Sy scoffed. “That’s a long overdue cluster fuck meeting just waiting to happen. You don’t wanna become a casualty of that war.”

  Carmen rolled her eyes and rose from her seat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to powder my nose.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your nose.”

  She plastered a smile on her face. “Obviously, I was too subtle. Please move your big frame so I can go to the toilet and take a piss. There? Better?”

  Vince sighed. Carmen had yet to learn that it was going to take a lot more than that to rile up Sy.

  Sy smiled. “Sure, hotness. All you gotta do is ask.”

  After one more heated look, she scurried past him and headed off to the ladies’ room.

  “Why are you trying to piss her off?” Vince asked.

  “Ain’t it obvious? When she’s pissed, she forgets to be scared.”

  And just like that, Vince was reminded why he was best friends with the ruthless bastard. Trust and loyalty, the invisible tether that somehow kept them together. They had met in the oddest place at the oddest time—a cemetery at dawn during a shootout. Morelli’s men had closed in on him.

  Funny thing was, they hadn’t even been after him but after his brother. He didn’t think he’d make it until a big silver-haired guy came out of the fog like a ghost and had leveled the playing field. Sy had saved his life by risking his ass for a stranger. His reason? He didn’t like setups. Sy came from poverty and was just rising in the Bratva. Vince came from money but had lost everything when his father got murdered. They had just fit.