Her blond curls covered the right side of Bastian’s face. As usual, her hair was unruly and all over the place. But that was what I loved about her. She was beautiful, but not perfect, and didn’t try to impress any of us.
It was so fucking sexy.
Damian was on her other side with his hand between her thighs. Even in sleep, it was like they both could sense her presence.
“We should let them sleep,” Marcello suggested.
“No.” I shook my head. “Bash and Damian are getting their lazy asses up. We can’t leave The Mansion until we figure out what we’re dealing with.”
“It was the Russians,” Sonny said in a hushed tone, careful not to wake our sleeping queen.
“We have one bargaining chip.” A sinister grin curled up the corners of my mouth as I stared at my sleeping beauty. “The Knights have been keeping her safe for a long time. This might be the time to exchange Viktor Romanov’s daughter. That’s why the Russians are breathing down our necks. Viktor sent his goons to find the girl. He thinks he can steal Alex and force our hands.”
“No,” Sonny shot back. “You promised Cole that Grace would be unharmed. We all swore to protect her.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I hissed. “My father promised Damian and Bastian revenge for their parent’s deaths. For over ten years, we have been keeping this girl alive for one purpose. It’s not my fault Cole fell in love with his captive.”
“He doesn’t see it that way.” Sonny crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at me. “What about Hunter and Brax? They’re with her, too.”
“Again, I don’t fucking care.” I kept my voice low, giving him a menacing look that said not to test me. “They were under strict orders not to touch that girl. She is bait. Nothing more. Even Fitzy is okay with us handing off his granddaughter to the enemy.”
Fitzgerald Archibald Adams IV was the current Grand Master of The Founders Society and Bastian’s grandfather. He was the reason my father had adopted Bastian and Damian. Because of that, we thought they would spare us. That we wouldn’t have to marry into a Founding Family.
But he was getting more ruthless in his old age. The old bastard was mean as fuck and richer than a god. As the head Elder, he had every politician, mobster, banker, and secret society under his command. We needed his connections to maintain our position of power.
“That’s because Fitzy needs Bash a lot more than he needs Grace,” Marcello told Sonny.
“And so do we.” I held Sonny’s gaze, speaking with fire behind my words. “The last time I checked, I will be the next Grand Master of The Devil’s Knights. Not you, Cormac. So don’t tell me what we need to do.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Marcello threw his arms out between us, and since we were still holding onto him, it kept me from wringing Sonny’s neck.
Sonny fought with me every chance he got. The stupid Irishman could never just follow orders.
Marcello shook us off and staggered over to the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress and looked up at us. “For Alex, can you two just get along? I’m sick of all the bullshit.”
Sonny’s eyes darted to Alex, and he smiled. “Yeah, sure. For our queen, I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”
“Nope,” I retorted. “Don’t tell me what to do, brother. I’m the leader of this family.”
Marcello sighed. “Just give them another hour to sleep off the drugs. We’re safe here for now.”
I considered his request for a moment and then nodded. Not like I could wake up Bastian and Damian without disturbing Alex. She looked too peaceful and beautiful to touch her. But there was still a part of me that wanted to mark her. To break her some more before I made her mine.
“Fine,” I said to Marcello. “They can sleep for one more hour. But if they’re not up when I come back, I’m smacking them around.”
He rolled his eyes. “Dickhead.”
I took one last look at Alex sleeping between my brothers and then left the room with Sonny and Marcello to plot our next move.
Iwoke up to my head pounding like a jackhammer, my skull on fire from a wicked migraine. It had been a while since I’d had one. They usually came on when something triggered my PTSD. A sound, a smell, even a song on the radio could sometimes stir up the flashbacks that usually accompanied blinding pain.
I opened one eye and found Bastian staring at me. He held me in his strong arms, my head rested on his chest. Even all disheveled, his dark brown hair sticking up in random places, he still looked good enough to eat. For a moment, I thought about last night. All the ways he touched me, tasted me. Fucked me so good I passed out from the pleasure.
“Bash,” I whispered, my voice scratchy. “Where are we?”
“At The Mansion.”
I scanned the room that was half the size of the one we slept in last night. “Whose room is this?”