I narrow my gaze on Roman, slowly trailing over the rough stubble covering his jaw, wondering if he's the one running this show. Strands of thick, dark hair hang unkempt from the tied-back mess on top of his head. He’s a fucking masterpiece, but deadly from every angle. Add the rough stubble around his jaw and he’s the very definition of the man of my dreams. Too bad he’s a fucking psychopath.
His obsidian eyes are locked on me as I notice the angry scar slicing through one thick brow and over the top of his eyelid. It trails down to the very tip of his cheekbone, and I can't help but wonder what happened to him. The scar sits on a perfect angle, but it’s just rugged enough to have everything clenching inside me. While the brothers all look freakishly similar, Roman’s scar sets him apart. I can't explain why I feel a sudden connection to him without a single exchange of words, but his hard expression speaks to me on a different level. I’ve had one strange conversation with Levi, but so far, Roman is the one I feel I know the most about.
“What happened to you?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest and popping out my hip. “Fuck the wrong man’s wife?”
A dagger spins in his hand, the pad of his fingertip pressed right against the sharp tip of the blade and seeing the lethality in his eyes, I wish he’d just throw it and pierce my heart, putting a premature end to the shit storm I know I’m about to endure. “Sit.”
I keep staring, refusing to abide by his orders as my gaze continues down, sailing over the relaxed way he leans back in his ridiculous gold-trimmed chair. He flinches, adjusting himself slightly to hang his arm over the backrest of the chair beside him, and as he does, my whole body jumps. For just a brief moment, I really expected him to throw the knife.
His muscles roll with his movements and the way the corner of his lips twist up into a crooked grin tells me that he knew exactly how I was going to react to his sudden movement. He’s fucking with me and he loves it.
My back straightens and I clench my jaw, not appreciating his bullshit in the slightest. Despite how brave I’m trying to appear to be, he knows just how scared I really am.
Fearing that he truly loves my attention on him, I turn away, not wanting to give him what he craves. Glancing down the long table to his brother, I find him sitting at the very end, acting like he belongs at the head of the table when we all know that spot belongs to the eldest of the bunch.
My gaze drags over his hard demeanor. I didn’t think it was possible but he somehow looks even more pissed to have me here than his brothers do.
Marcus Fucking DeAngelis.
Just looking at him sends waves of rage pulsing through me, remembering the way his hand curled around my throat and the heavy blow that knocked me out. My head has been hurting all day because of his shit. I mean, I’m five foot nothing and weigh less than a freaking bug. They could have easily subdued me, taped my mouth shut and disappeared. There was no reason to knock me out cold.
Fucking asshole, but a freaking gorgeous one.
Why couldn’t I have been abducted by ugly dudes? The last thing I need is to be sexually confused by these guys. If only Tarzan didn’t give out on me the way he did. He’s been the only consistent man in my life. I trusted him and he didn’t come through for me, but then, I’m more than pleased that Levi didn’t get to see me come while watching me through my closet door. Fucking creep. Who does that? He was probably rocking a semi while he watched me.
Marcus leans right back in his chair looking completely unfazed by my appearance in his big-ass dining hall, but why should it bother him? I’m certainly no threat to him. I’m like an irritating cockroach who he could trample at any given time. His feet are propped up on the edge of the dining table as he watches me through his long lashes. When he tilted his head to the side in my apartment, he looked fucking crazy, but bringing his chin down and staring up at me like this turns my blood cold.
This is my first real meeting with these guys, and while nothing has really been said yet, it’s clear that whatever time I spend here with them is going to be the most horrifying thing I’ll ever endure.
Determined not to fret under his deadly stare, I let out a shaky breath and call on my middle school acting classes. I raise my chin and slap a bored expression over my face. I scoff to myself, keeping my gaze on Marcus as I stride toward the big table. “Can’t say that I’m impressed,” I sigh. “For such a reputation, you guys are really dropping the ball. Dinner parties and gowns? Fuck, sounds like you’re losing your edge.”
Marcus flies to his feet and I pause, my foot hovering off the ground as I blanch, watching just how fast he can move his tall frame. I suck in a breath, one that I’m sure all three of them can hear from their respective corners of the room. My act isn’t fooling anyone.
Judging by the determination and pure hatred swirling within his eyes, I expect him to come after me. But Marcus remains still, glaring at me from the opposite end of the table. It's painfully clear which one of these boys has anger issues in the family.
His hands clench into tight fists as I watch his sharp jaw become so much more defined. He’s on the edge and I don’t doubt that one more snide comment from me would have him breaking loose and putting an end to this twisted game.
I bite my tongue, knowing when to push and when to reel it in. After all, I lived with my father for eighteen years before finally finding freedom. That was more practice in restraint than any young girl should ever have to put up with. I should consider it a warm-up for this exact moment of my life. I bet the other girls these assholes have plucked off the street didn’t come fully equipped with years of abuse training.
Keeping still, I refuse to break eye contact with Marcus, ready to see this through, but I don’t have to when Levi stands and glares across the wide table to his brother. Not a word is said out loud, but their silent conversation has both their gazes flicking back to mine.
“Sit,” Levi orders, his tone filled with authority as he repeats the one order his eldest brother had given only a few short moments ago.
Levi’s deep voice somehow still seems to vibrate through my chest just like it did when he was pressed right up against me. I turn my head toward him and swallow hard, unable to avoid his authoritative demand. Taking a step toward the table, I slowly pull out the chair closest to the exit.
I feel both Marcus’ and Roman’s stare on me as well, but I keep mine trained on Levi as I slowly take my seat.
The table is filled with food and my stomach growls, but despite the brothers’ full plates, I don’t dare reach for any of it, not even the glass of water by my knife and fork.
None of them make a move to start on their dinner, far too intrigued with their shiny new toy. “You’re going to want to eat,” Levi explains, leaning back in his chair and picking up a dagger of his own, trailing his forefinger up and down the sharp blade and letting the chandelier light glisten off the shiny metal. “That’s the last meal you’re going to be offered.”
I clench my jaw as my gaze drops to the array of food scattered around the table and it doesn’t go unnoticed that food isn’t the only thing here. There are bottles of booze spread from left to right, brands that my boss could only dream of affording in his nightclub, but it’s the unlabeled pills and cocaine that hold my attention. I didn’t take these guys for ones to mess with drugs. Their minds are already fucked up enough, but then, maybe they need something to help them forget just how monstrous they really are.