This isn’t about trust. Or at least, it isn’t only about trust.
It’s because they have no reason to hide things from me.
Because I’m never getting out.
I fight the urge to squirm out of Hale’s lap, and as if sensing my tension, his hands press into me a little tighter, his chest brushing against my back as he leans over to pick up his glass again. He offers me a sip, but I mutter a hasty, no, thank you. There’s no way I’m getting drunk around these four men, especially when they’re already a few drinks in, relaxed and handsy. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight as it is.
The conversation continues, and I try to focus on their words and not the feel of Hale’s hands on my body.
“They’ll figure it out soon enough,” Hale mutters. The vibrations of his deep voice rumble through my own chest. His fingers begin tracing a pattern on my thigh, and my skin awakens with anticipation. I try not to lean into him anymore than I’ve already unconsciously done. “This is Novak soil, not Rook soil. The Novaks don’t take well to having their things taken away from them. We defend what belongs to us.”
Hale’s nose brushes against my neck, and I take a deep breath, trying to push away from the warmth of his body, but his hold on my hips is firm, keeping me in place.
And something about his words make me think he’s not just talking about whoever this Rook syndicate is.
He’s talking about something else.
He’s talking about me.
Did they feel that way when Brian tried to take me away?
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel, learning that they see me as theirs. But I’m absolutely certain it shouldn't feel like an achy knot inside my chest, spreading down to the lowest part of me, heating my blood.
What the fuck am I doing?
I almost want to laugh like a maniac, or maybe scream like one. In less than a month, my life was completely turned around, my hopes and plans changed. I went from planning to marry a cop to living in a fucking mansion with four mafia men.
Four dangerously alluring men, each whom I’ve either kissed or had sex with.
Four men I feel drawn to, heart, body, and soul.
10
Lucas
It’s crazy how fast people can adapt to new circumstances. Not a bad thing, just pretty mind-blowing, when you think about it.
A few weeks ago, it was just me, Zaid, Hale, and Ciro living in this house. Now, I can’t fucking imagine the place without Grace in it.
She’s changed everything.
She’s filled a hole in our lives that we didn’t even know was there.
I know she wasn’t happy about this arrangement. After everything she’s been through, I wish I could’ve given her freedom—true freedom. But it’s not possible. Damian won’t just let her walk away from all this, and not even Hale can make him.
Besides, if there’s a mole in the syndicate, if there’s someone out there who wants Grace dead, she’s better off with us.
We’ll keep her safe. We won’t let any motherfucker hurt her.
And even though she was unhappy with the arrangement at first, I think she’s settling in at our house, getting more comfortable and starting to feel less like a prisoner. After we caught her eavesdropping a few nights ago, she’s come downstairs after dinner a few more times. Hale openly talks Novak business in front of her, and the rest of us follow his lead and do the same.
She listens too. She pays attention, and I swear I can practically see the thoughts behind her eyes as she processes every bit of information she picks up. It’s a dangerous game Hale’s playing, allowing her to see that deeply into our organization, but I know why he’s doing it.
Just like the rest of us, he wants to show her that she’s not a prisoner. Not in any of the ways that count.
The lines are still blurry as fuck though. I hate it. She has free rein to go anywhere she likes in the house, but she still sometimes tiptoes around like she’s waiting for a trap to spring on her. And who can blame her for feeling that way? No matter what feelings exist between us, our past always seems to bleed into the present, a constant reminder that she shouldn’t trust any of us.
It doesn’t help that trust is in short supply in general these days. I find myself looking around at my fellow syndicate members anytime I’m at Onyx, wondering which one of them might’ve betrayed us.