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Chapter Eleven

Katriona

The precinct bustled with people, all eyes turned away from us the second he ushered me out of the side door and into a waiting car. If nothing else tonight I finally see the power behind the Ward name.

No one tells Sylan Ward no. Apparently not even me.

We ride in silence and the second I step off the elevator I’m nailed with a wave of fury from two waiting men. They’re standing at the door, arms crossed over massive chests. Their dark eyes shimmering with untethered anger so thick it chokes me.

“Grey, Drake.” All my spunk spirals down the proverbial sink, leaving me drained.

Drake takes my arm and leads me to sit across from him while all three take chairs opposite my sofa.

Tonight cannot get any more surreal. I want them. There’s no misunderstanding that side of how tonight played out. But I hold no misgivings about how my hospitable mobsters with the soft lips can turn Grim Reapers on me, snap their fingers and take my life.

But I don’t feel I’m in danger even after my little stunt. I don’t know and that scares me. I question every move I’ve made and my sanity for walking back in here.

“Your life is not a joke to us. If we were not clear before, let us be clear now. Out there Marcus hunts you. In here you are safe. Is that abundantly clear?”

“I’m starting to get the picture.”

“Had you gone to the other detective on rotation tonight, he would have called Marcus and your evening would have taken a drastic turn.” Grey scrubs his hands down his face and leans forward on his elbows looking pale. “Fuck, Katriona, you would already have a bullet in your head.”

I swallow hard at the fear etched into his face. The hard line of his jaw ticking away with how he grits his back molars.

“I’m sorry. I panicked. I just ran because I was…” I drag the tips of my fingers down the sides of my mouth. “I was scared of what I felt for you. The agreement, Marcus. This life. As soon as the bucket of cold water hit me when we were interrupted, I freaked out.” I turn to each of them. “All three of you scare me and turn me on all at the same time.”

Drake dragged his chair close enough to take my hand in his. “We won’t let anything happen to you, but you have to take this seriously. Your father has enemies and right now Marcus is at the top of that list. We hold no hopes of him just silently fading away. He has made that clear. Not after tonight. You’ve exposed us and Marcus knows we have you.”

“So tell me about your agreement? I’ll be honest with you. I’m a waitress with an online high school diploma and can only dream of college. There’s no way I can pay you back the ten million my father stole.”

“We’ll take payment in flesh.”

I inhale and let it out calmly. “You’ve said as much. Care to elaborate?”

Sylan is standing so close now I can reach out and smack the smug smile off his face, but the compassionate look in his eye keeps my hands in my lap.

The three men are staring at me, and under that intense weight, I have the sudden urge to flee from the devils I was raised to fear like a good Catholic girl my momma wanted me to be.

But I don’t.

Instead, I melt into Sylan’s gentle touch as he wraps an arm around me. I take comfort in the clean, masculine scent of his cologne.

Drake slides his large body into the space to my right, leaving Grey in the chair directly in front of me. I’m once again surrounded by all three alphas. Hunger burning in their eyes. For me.

They want me.

Almost unfathomable one man would want the nobody waitress hiding out at mile marker 132, but it’s true because there’s no mistaking the way they touch me. What’s more, his two best friends want me just as much.

I take in a deep breath and hold it.

If wealth had a scent, I would say it was the scent of all three. Opulent as much as it is dangerous. Dark yet powerful. It is like the men who wear it so well. Dominant, forbidden, and utterly mind-consuming. All three work in tandem to destroy my better judgment.

Sy turns me to face him, and I see that chiseled jaw of his clamp tight and a fire in his eyes so intense I can feel the burn everywhere his gaze touches me.

“We want you. No strings attached. Your body.”

“Your soul.”


Tags: Penelope Wylde Erotic