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One woman grinned, plopping herself down on the sofa. “Yeah, Luka.” She looked him and up down. “Let’s talk.”

“Talk” sounded very much like “fuck” coming from her lips.

“I would shut my mouth if I were you, Fernanda,” Pav growled through gritted teeth. And when the second woman lost her ability to hold in her laughter, Luka looked pissed. “Don’t make me come over there, Luna.”

It was then I noticed the women were twins.

Fernanda wore her dark hair long and wavy down her back, while Luna had her hair short, buzzed at the sides and longer at the front, messily styled. Fernanda wore tight jeans and a tiny tee that showed off her stomach. Luna wore baggy cargo pants and a loose tank with a sports bra underneath. Fernanda looked highly feminine while Luna wore black eye shadow smudged around her eyes with an attitude that said “approach with caution,” but their tall, slim bodies were the same, their faces identical.

Fernanda licked her lips seductively. “Sounds like you missed me, Pav.” Then she winked, and when I turned to glance at Luka, he looked as though he wanted to take the few steps over and throttle the woman. “But,” she sighed, “that’s what you get for banishing us.” Her lips pouted melodramatically, as she uttered, “You shot me in the heart, baby.” Quite suddenly, her face changed and she muttered darkly, “How about I repay the favor?”

“Jesus Christ.” Twitch huffed out an irritated breath. “You got a death wish, Fern.”

When Luka pulled out his gun and pointed it at her, the expression Fernanda wore was one of sheer victory. And he knew immediately that he’d revealed too much in his actions.

Oh, yeah. My wide eyes settled on the way Fernanda watched the Croatian Sensation. They were definitely a thing at one point.

“I wouldn’t provoke me, Papi.” Fern sat tall, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I’m a woman.” Her eyes narrowed on Luka before she leaned back on the sofa, resting her arms over the back of it. “Been washing blood stains off my clothes since I was a teenager.”

My brows arched.

Oh, snap.

It was hard not to be affected by the woman. I kind of liked her brand of sass. I could definitely learn a thing or two from her.

The man behind the two women spoke, and I’d never heard anything like his rich, gravelly voice.

“Enough.”

It reminded me of sex.

Yes. That was it.

It was pure, unadulterated sex. I felt it all over. And it disturbed me enough to take a step back, away from him.

“No one asked you shit, Thiago,” Luka spat viciously. “If I needed you to mediate, I’d fuckin’ ask for it.” He then ran a hand down his weary face. “It’s bad enough I got the Vegas in my goddamn house. I don’t want to hear you, man. You’ve been warned.”

The man, Thiago, was tall and built like a Russian war tank. With a broad chest, thick neck, and a scowl without rival, he was all muscle. His dark hair was buzzed short and stubble lined his razor-sharp jaw. His strong chin, high cheekbones, and tanned skin reminded me of a G.I. Joe figurine. Only G.I. Joe came off like a pussy compared to this demon of a dude.

When he caught me eyeing him with a frown, he settled that unimpressed glare on me, and, nope, I did not dig it. But instead of being scared, I surprised myself by being thoroughly irritated. And when I uttered a perfectly calm, “You keep looking at me like that, you’ll lose an eye,” no one was more astounded than I was. What was even more astonishing was, I meant what I said.

I felt Twitch move into me, and complete and utter adulation flowed through me. With that small gesture, he spoke volumes.

He had my back, forever and always.

Thiago held my gaze a long moment before his lips twitched and his face softened marginally. When he spoke to Twitch, all he said was, “She yours?”

And Twitch replied, “She’s wearin’ my ring.”

Thiago’s lips thinned, and he muttered a quietly aggravated, “Wonderful.”

What was the matter with these men?

Thankfully, the conversation came to a halt when Molly came into the room holding A.J.’s hand, but as her eyes landed on the three vagabonds, she tugged my son back, holding him away from the danger the holy trinity clearly emanated. Unfortunately, the little monster had already seen his father.

His soft brown eyes widened in sheer delight, as he called out, “Daddy!”

With a force that was unnatural for a five-year-old to have, he snatched his hand out of Molly’s and started to run. The second he reached Twitch, he jumped, and papa bear caught him midair, holding him close as A.J. hugged him around the neck so hard he had to be strangling him.

“There he is.” Twitch grinned into our son’s hair, kissing his head then swinging him from side-to-side, patting his back. “How you doin’, bud?”

A.J. held him tight. “You were gone forever,” the little gremlin muttered sadly, and my heart ached.

But Twitch didn’t care that he was choking him. He wanted his son close. There was a thickness that lined his tone. “I’m back now.”

“Aw,” muttered Fernanda, turning wide eyes to Luna.

Luna put a hand to her heart and her mouth gaped before letting out a disbelieving, “Twitch.” Her eyes landed on our little boy and she blinked at him. “You’re a father.” She sounded absolutely stunned, and that kind of shock normally only came from people who you were familiar with.

As in, closely familiar with.

Who were these people?

“So there’s no chance of stealin’ ya girl then?” My head snapped to Thiago, and as I glowered at him, he winked before a slow grin appeared.

Twitch was not amused, and although he said, “You can try, Tee,” what I heard was, “I will kill you slowly and bathe in your blood.”

Feeling he was close to implosion, I moved, pressing into his free side, and he put his arm around my waist almost reflexively. His mood did not improve when Luka decided to weigh in.

“You gotta take a number like the rest of us, fucker,” he added slyly. “I was here first.”

Oh my God.

My stomach clenched.

Twitch’s cheek ticked as he slowly looked toward his friend. “You’ve been good to me, Pav, so I’mma pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Luka shrugged, appearing completely unconcerned. “I said what I said.”

Fernanda’s jaw tightened and she lowered her gaze to hide her hurt. And I felt for her then. Whatever she had done had hurt Pav. That much was clear. And now, Pav wanted to hurt her.

The arm around me tightened. Showing my unreserved loyalty, I turned, leaning up to press my lips to his neck over the puckered scar he’d gotten six years ago, and when I felt his muscles loosen under my mouth, I began to relax enough to pull away.

Twitch’s eyes narrowed on his friend. His voice was barely over a whisper. “You’re lucky I’m holdin’ my son.”

These men were tiresome, and as my eyes closed, I reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose and ground out, “Can we please not do this?” Slowly, I opened my eyes and peered around the room. A tired sigh left me. “I hate to say this, but—” My apologetic eyes landed on Luka. “—we need your help.” And when my weary gaze found my son, I touched his soft hair before turning back to the room. “We have a problem to take care of.”

A problem with cherry-red lips and a motherfucking attitude.

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

Lexi

The silence was thick, and while I normally appreciated a moment of quiet, this silence was different. It was sticky. Suffocating. And as we drove home at Luka’s wishes, my entire body thrummed in hyperawareness. Because we were being hunted like prey.

We were being hunted, and the king refused to help.

The logical part of me understood why Luka rejected our appeal for aid. The maternal part of me knew I would never forgive him his actions.

“No one else can help us.” I turned my pleadin

g gaze to him, and when he looked away, I knew—I fucking knew—he would do nothing. That, of course, didn’t stop me from trying. “Luka.” I took a step forward before turning to peer at my sleeping son on the sofa. I would do anything for that boy. I had. I would. And I would continue to. “Please,” I appealed to the softer side he rarely showed. The side I was lucky enough to find in my time alone with him. “Help us.”

But when he responded as callously as he did, Luka Pavlovic was dead to me. “What do you want from me, woman?” He turned to face the Vega family lurking in the corner of the room. He eyed the three of them meaningfully. “Seems to me you got all the help you need.”

I quickly realized his problem and, wow, I couldn’t believe him.

My soft gaze ignited into fiery rage. “You’re bitter? That’s what this is?” My eyes widened in understanding. “You won’t help us because you’re fucking bitter?” I spun to face Fernanda, and sputtered, “He won’t help protect my son because of you?”

“Baby.” Twitch put a hand to my shoulder, but I shrugged it off, demanding an answer.

Fernanda’s cool stare landed on Luka with the force of an ax going through soft cypress. “Don’t stress, gatita.” She looked disgusted at the man she once called her king. “Can’t you see how shook he is? That should tell you everything you need to know. ” Her confidence was unwavering. “We’re all you need.”

So as we drove home with the Vegas trailing us, I probably should have felt more at ease than I did. But it felt wrong. All of it. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something was wrong.

Twitch pulled into the driveway, and the Vegas parked behind us. Within seconds, Molly drove up in Big Red and Tama stepped out of the car with her. I didn’t even notice Julius and Ana until I stepped out of the car. Happy was the last to arrive, and he came alone.

My eyes slid over to Twitch. “Family meeting?”

Taking A.J.’s hand in his, he stopped to watch me carefully. “Family meeting.”

With a long sigh, I unlocked the front door, and just before I stepped in, Thiago stepped in front of me. I frowned. “What are you doing?”

Thiago Vega looked down at my sleepy son a long moment, and when he responded, my gut clenched. “Checking for snakes.” He went in alone.

My stomach ached suddenly, violently, and I felt the blood drain out of my face.

It never actually occurred to me that Ling might have the balls to be sitting pretty, waiting for us in our own home. And the more I thought about it, the more I came to understand that there were no rules for Ling Nguyen. She was a paradox, wanting to rule, but hating the system and policies that came with that.


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