“I’m wondering if Fallon isn’t the one my father spoke to about Bianca,” I said as we got into my car and drove away from the mansion. I nodded to the guards as we left the property.
“He would’ve done the job already,” Vincent grunted.
“Not if he fell in love
with her.”
“You don’t think. . .”
“I don’t know what the fuck I think. The only thing I know is we need to get back and talk to her, see what secrets she has to divulge.” I pressed down on the accelerator harder, and the car shot forward into the night.
When Levin didn’t answer his phone, we stormed over to his room. If he’d lost Bianca again, I’d kick his fucking ass. I was getting sick of his constant bitching about taking care of her. My mood was shitty enough after the evening with my father, so anything Levin did or didn’t do would only make it worse.
“Think they’ve killed each other?” Vincent asked as we stopped outside Levin’s door.
I shook my head. “Who fucking knows.” I knocked and waited, expecting him to haul the door open quickly as a means to be free of her.
When he didn’t answer, I frowned and knocked again.
“Maybe they’re at her dorm,” Vincent said. “He’s probably sulking outside it.”
I got my phone out and hit CALL on Bianca’s number, growling as it went to voicemail.
Not wanting to deal with this shit anymore, I hammered harder on Levin’s door. When there was no answer, I backed up and kicked it, sending it flying open and slamming off the wall.
“What the fuck?” Vincent called out as I stood staring stupidly at Bianca in Levin’s arms. Naked. Both of them were fucking naked.
Levin sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking like he’d drunk and smoked too much. “What the fuck did you do to my door?”
“You didn’t answer,” I seethed, something ugly unfurling in my chest as Bianca burrowed deeper into Levin’s pillows without opening her eyes. The fact she’d slept through my entrance let me know the condition she was in.
Levin frowned at me then turned to Bianca beside him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, rubbing his head. “Fuck.”
“Did you…” I demanded, glaring at my friend. “Did you fuck her?”
“What? No—”
“Looks like you did,” Vincent said sourly, his face pinched in anger.
Of course he’d be pissed. He’d been attempting to woo her forever and hadn’t gotten anywhere, and there Levin was, being a constant dick to her and now he had her naked in his bed.
“I fucking didn’t,” Levin snapped back, getting out of bed and grabbing his pants, his dick swinging.
I swallowed down my anger and stalked forward to Bianca. Roughly, I grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She grumbled sleepily at me.
“She’s fucking wasted,” I snarled, taking in her naked body. I turned to Vincent. “Get her fucking clothes.”
By now, Levin was dressed in a pair of track pants, watching as Vincent lifted her shirt from the floor.
“Nice, Seeley. You tore the buttons off,” he grumbled throwing her torn shirt at Levin who had the decency to look ashamed. Or maybe he was pissed we’d broken in and ended his little party.
Levin grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweatpants from his drawer and tossed them to me. I caught them and dressed Bianca, taking in the bruising on her breasts.
“Why is she hurt?” I demanded softly, my body vibrating with barely controlled rage, as I held her up.
She mumbled something incoherent, her blonde hair a tangled mess around her. I could smell the alcohol wafting from her body like cheap perfume.