Toxicity

by Katie May

  And they will. Already, their eyes glow when they stare at my small baby bump. It doesn’t matter who the legitimate father is; they’ll all love the baby as their own.

  Our relationship hasn’t caused as much trouble as I thought. Roman, at first, faced termination, but he quickly reminded the school that he’ll be liable to sue if they fired him based on his romantic relationship. Byron received a job at a construction company, and the guys have been surprisingly supportive of his relationship with me. That could be because of Susie; the woman had showed up at the construction site and threatened bodily harm towards anyone who dared to disrespect me and her soon-to-be grandchild.

  And Deluca…

  It took him longer than the others to join the relationship fully, but that was only because we chose to take our relationship slowly. It took him five months to make love to me and six months for him to confess his love to me.

  But fuck, the wait has been worth it.

  We’re happy together. All of us. There’s times of jealousy and possessiveness. Times of pain and heartache.

  But we always leave the fight stronger than we were before.

  “What do you think, Wife?” Deluca asks, spinning me around and devouring my lips with his own. He smells of apples and vanilla from his favorite cologne. Roman jokes it’s a girly scent, but I love it.

  Maybe because I love him.

  “I’m not your wife yet,” I remind him with a giggle once he releases my mouth. His lips protrude in a mock pout—so ridiculous I have the urge to kiss him again.

  “Not for one more week!” Byron chimes in from the front porch. Already, I can see the wheels in his head turning as he plans out how to set up our new home.

  “Soon, you’ll be ours,” Roman adds, nuzzling my neck. It doesn’t seem to bother him I’m still in Deluca’s arms.

  “We still haven’t decided which last name we’re going to take,” I point out.

  “We could hyphenate all of our names,” Deluca suggests yet again.

  “Or we could take Deluca’s first name as our last,” I say around a giggle. When Deluca had finally revealed his name to me, I’d laughed hysterically. No wonder he went by his last.

  His eyes widen in horror, but when he sees the expression on my face, his own brightens with amusement. “You little minx!”

  He begins to tickle my sides, and I throw my head back in laughter.

  “What was your last name before you married Jared?” Phillip asks me softly. My laughter dissipates, and silence descends. I know my men get angry whenever I speak about my past. Not because they’re uncomfortable, but more because they feel a righteous fury when they think about what I’ve been through.

  “Um...it was Blackwood.” I sheepishly shrug my shoulders. “Mallie Blackwood.”

  “Huh.” Roman strokes his chin where stubble has grown. “Roman Blackwood. I can get behind that.”

  Of course, they can’t all legally marry me. The marriage is more for us than the state. It’s a chance for us to exchange vows in front of our friends and family. In the eyes of others, our marriage might not seem legitimate, but I know it’s more than that. It’s everything.

  “Let’s talk about this tomorrow,” Byron says with a broad smile. “Right now, I want to break this house in with my sexy fiancée.”

  I can’t argue with that.

  As Deluca and Roman race into the house, Phillip lifts me into his strong arms and carries me over the threshold. I giggle, burying me face in his neck.

  “I promised I’d call Nat the second we got here!” I argue half-heartedly.

  “And you can call her,” Roman assures me, already stripping out of his shirt and pants. Deluca and Byron are already fully naked, surrounding the mattress they had dragged into the living room. It’s the only thing we have unpacked. “After orgasms.”

  I laugh again, the sound so joyous and carefree I barely recognize it.

  As the guys show me with their tongues, hands, and cocks how much they love me, I know that this is only the start of something amazing. Something incredible.

  I’m already a lover. A friend. Soon, I’ll be a wife and mother.

  I’m no longer Mallie FaCent—prostitute, Dragon’s Girl, and villain.

  I’m just Mallie.

  And my life has only just begun.

  Read ALL the Villainously Romantic Retellings!

  books2read.com/Ferocity

  books2read.com/Vanity

  books2read.com/-Worthy

  books2read.com/-Identity

  books2read.com/Cruelty

  About the Author

  Katie May is a reverse harem author from West Michigan. She loves coffee, horror movies, and books. If she’s not writing, you can find her curled up with a book or annoying her family. Join her reader’s group to stay updated on all her newest releases! Katie’s Gang - a Katie May Readers Group

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you so much to everyone who made this book possible! A special thank you to the ladies who helped me create this series. TL Reeve, Mary Martel, Lacey Carter Anderson, KB Everly, and Brandy Slaven. Thank you for taking this journey with me.

  A big thank you to my alphas and betas. Without you, I don’t know where this book would be.

  Finally, thank you to my readers. You guys are amazing.

  Other Books By Katie May

  The Damning

  Greed

  Envy

  Gluttony (Coming Soon)

  Beyond the Shadows

  Gangs and Ghosts

  Guns and Graveyards

  Gallows and Ghouls (Coming November 2019)

  Together We Fall

  The Darkness We Crave

  The Light We Seek

  The Storm We Face

  The Monsters We Hunt

  Prodigium Academy

  Monsters

  The Immortal Legacy (With Elena Lawson)

  Chasing Time

  Afterworld Academy (With Loxley Savage)

  Dearly Departed

  Sneak Peek

  Vanity by Mary Martel

  Nova

  Better Off With Him Being Dead

  "I don't care how much it costs," I muttered, as I crossed my ankles under my desk, admiring my fantastic high heels. Black with a red underside and a six-inch heel. They'd been a gift from myself to myself, as all my gifts were wont to be.

  "Just find him," I snapped in a louder voice. I could afford it. I could afford anything.

  The room remained silent, and I didn't need to look up at the gentlemen sitting across from my desk to know they were upset with the tone I'd taken with them and my attitude. Too bad, boys. I was footing this bill, therefore this was my show.

  "Yes, ma'am," the bigger of the two replied in a gruff, masculine voice.

  He'd been the only one to actually speak so far, while the other had remained oddly mute and ever watchful. I didn't trust that one. He saw too much. Not that I could really trust either of them. Trust was earned and never freely given.

  They were both dressed in black button down, long-sleeved shirts of a nice enough quality to blend in with the rest of the crew in this building, and jeans that were so far out of place that the shirts on their backs looked ridiculous, even though they were the only thing about them that fit in here. Their feet were encased in black combat boots. If they were in my employ for something other than what I needed them for, I would likely fire them based on their attire alone. Appearances needed to be kept in my line of work, it held suspicions at bay.

  Given that they worked for an investigative firm owned by the bigger of the two, River, I believe his name was, they could wear whatever the hell they wanted. Just so long as they got the job done.

  And, hey, what was up with him not giving me a last name?

  "We'll do our best, Ms. Crimson."

  At that proclamation, they both pushed up from their chairs and stood, drawing my attention away from my shoes.

  I blinked. And blinked some more.

  D
amn.

  Now why had I thought the other was small in comparison? Just because he wasn't sporting big, gym muscles? He was by no means small. Over six feet tall, with muscles that were compact and not showy like the other one. He had dark green eyes that were filled with an intelligence that had me looking away as soon as I'd made contact with him. His hair was shaved down to a no-nonsense do that suited his seriousness—Vega, I believe River had called him when they'd arrived and introductions had been made.

  River was just as tall as his buddy, hitting the mark way over six feet. His hair was a dirty blond that he'd spiked up top in messy disarray. His eyes were blue, clear, and very, very empty of anything. A look I imagined he'd either worked very hard at perfecting, or he'd been through some serious shit in his time and gotten good at hiding his emotions because of it.

  Either way, I didn't know why I took notice, because I certainly didn't care.

  Nope, didn't care in the slightest. The problems of others had absolutely nothing to do with me. Usually, I didn't even have to think about it, other people just didn't factor in on my radar.

  And did I mention he had muscles? Lots and lots of delicious muscles.

  Good Christ, my libido had taken control of my body, and if I didn't get laid soon I was going to screw the wrong person and end up fucked in a way I didn’t like. Literally.

  I liked to do the fucking myself, thank you very much. After they'd signed an NDA and had a visit with my personal physician to make sure they were STD free.

  I currently had three such men on my payroll. And yes, you read that right, I said payroll. Things were so much easier that way, tighter. Emotions could be very messy and men could often grow attached with bright, shiny dollar signs in their eyes or the need to conquer that which had not been conquered before.

  Men. Fucking animals or gold diggers, the whole lot of them.

  River, I assumed it was him because the other refused to speak in front of me, cleared his throat and I closed my eyes in frustration. Were they still here? What the hell was I paying them for?

  "Yes?"

  He opened his mouth. Closed it. Shook his head, then turned and walked away and out of my office. The heavy door closed behind his buddy, Vega, who'd followed him out like a good little shadow.

  It didn't take a genius to figure out that River with no last name didn't like me much, but I didn't care. Not a whole lot of people actually did like me and I didn't care about that much either.

  My mother and father had died in a horrible car accident when I was in my early teens. They'd left their attorney in charge of caring for me, their massive estate, and the various bank accounts and trust funds I had become the sole beneficiary of upon their deaths. He'd been a kind man, though a distant one. My parents had been much the same.

  I'd been on my own for a very long time and had grown to enjoy my own company above others. I never tried to take advantage of myself. I never tried to use me for money or social gain. I never cheated on me. I never lied to myself. And I never, not ever, let myself down in any kind of way.

  That was more than anyone else could ever offer me.

  Except for that one person all those years ago.

  His name had been Olliver Ralph Sullivan, and I couldn't seem to forget him.

  Some horrible part of me hoped he was dead, that way his ghost could finally let go of me and I'd be free of him at long last.

  God, how I desperately wanted to be rid of him. He constantly took up space in my head that I should never have allowed him to rent out in the first place.

  If those investigators found a dead body instead of a living, breathing one, would I finally actually be able to let him go? And, worse case, what the fuck was I going to do if they found him still breathing?

  Yeah, I would be better off with him being dead. There was no room in my life for another living person, the dead took up too much space and the majority of my thoughts. My vanity and ego took up what was left.