To all the readers who would gladly put their morally grey book boyfriends in their rightful place… on their knees
BEFORE WE BEGIN…
Please note, I’m a UK-based author. This book is written in British English. Spelling and word choice vary from US English less z ’ s, more s ’ s, and all that jazz
There will be some fun Brit slang too hey, you may learn something about our quirky ways!
Bewarned…
This book contains mature themes that may be distressing for some readers
To see the full list of content warnings before reading, please visit Holly Bloom’s website for more details
He’s beenspendingmore evenings outlately, and Ican’tstand himwhenhe drinks. He turns into a ragingarsehole who takes his frustrationoutonwhoever and whatever stands inhis way His simperingfriends follow himaround like loyal cultists,overlookinghiscrazymoodswings,butIrefuseto.WhathappenedtothecharmingmanIusedtoknow?
Suddenly, the library door swings open It smacks into the opposing wall with a bang and punches a hole through the plaster.Spencerfollows,hurtlingtowardsmebeforeIcanmove.Hesnatchesmyphonefrommyhandsandlaunchesitacross the room,causingthe screentocrackwhenithits the hardwoodfloor That’ll be the thirdone he’s brokenover the lastfew weeks,butSpenceralwaysbuysmeanewone.Moneymeansnothingtohim.HedishesitoutlikeSantagivespresents.
BehindSpencer,Maria hisdutifulhousekeeper pokesherheadaroundthedoortocheckonus.Concernisetchedover her wrinkled face as she studies us. She’s beengivingme thatsame lookmore and more recently. She doesn’talways stay overnight,butI’venoticedherlingeringwheneverSpencerhaseveningplans
She’sworkedfor theBexleyfamilyfor years Nomatter how badlyhetalksdowntoher,sheweathersitwithafriendly faceandnever-endinggratitude,makingmequestionhowbadlySpencer’sfathermusthavetreatedherbeforehim.
“I’mprettytired,”Isay,stiflingayawnandtryingtopullaway “IthinkI’mgoingtocallita ” Hiseyesblazeinviciousfuryashisgriponmetightens.Hisfingersdigintomyhipspossessively.“No!” Spencer has grownup withall oflife’s privileges, and no one has ever refused him Iguess that’s to be expected when you’rethesoleheir toamammothfamilyfortune.I’vetriedtoignoresomeofhis brattyandentitledtendencies,choosingto focusonhowhecouldbesweetandcaring.ButIwasoverhispetulanttempertantrumtonight.
Does she thinkwe’re thatgullible? Her tears are fake, justlike the storyshe’s fed us. Eventhoughher pussymayhave drawntheDukesinlikeanirresistibleflytrap,holdingBramclosetoherpantieswon’thealhisbulletwound. Bram’seyelidsflutterclosed.
FreddieandSebgruntfromexertionastheyhaul Bramontohisfeet Theyputhisarmsovertheirshouldersanddraghis swaying figure over to a nearby van. The same one the Killers Club bundled Bram into when they kidnapped him at the Conservatory.Karmicjustice,orwhat?
“Ifyoudon’twantus to leave youhere withyour dead friend, I’d thinkcarefullybefore youopenyour mouthagain,” I snarl,butfollowherandslamthedoorshutbehindmewhileFreddiestartstheengine.
“You’reluckyweletyoulive,”Sebinterruptscoldly,grabbingthechainnearesttohimandsnatchingherwristroughly. She’stooweaktoobjectasheforcesherhandintothecuffandwinceslikeheslappedher.Thecuffsclickashefastens themwithoutlookingather,whichmakes me smirk.Didshe expecttoskipoffintothe sunshine withPrince Charming? Her gallantknights themenwhodesperatelytriedtoimpressher before aregone.She’s goingtomeetthereal Dukes andsee ourdarkside
Theenginegrowlstolifeaswepullaway.
“Trytokeephimsteady,”Isay,notacknowledgingher
Bram’seyeskeepflickeringashefightstostayawake.WithSebandIvy eventied oneithersideofhim,itshouldstop Bramfromjostlingaroundtoomuch.Ihaveatasktodo.I’vealwaysperformedunderpressure,hencewhyImadesuchagood doctor
Now, they’ve bound me like ananimal, and they’re goingto make me pay. Maybe it’s what I deserve. Maybe I’d even happilyacceptwhatevertheydidtomenextifCallensavedBram’slife
Callen’s alreadyhard atwork, sweatdrippingdownhis forehead inconcentrationas he approaches the taskwithlaser focus He’senteredatrance-likestate,withdrawingintohisownworldandlettingeverythingelsedisappear Hehumsunder hisbreathtothetuneof‘Staying Alive’ ashebusieshimself.
SebundoesithastilywithshakinghandsandputsitintoCallen’swaitingpalm.Bram’sskinisturninggreyfastashislife drainsaway Hebattlestokeephiseyesopen I’veseenmendiebeforeand,assoonastheireyesclose,they’regone Callen bundles Seb’s pale blue tie into a ball, then hovers it over Bram’s lips. Bram’s eyes flicker open, giving me renewedhope.He’llmakeitthroughthis,won’the?
I wince but refuse to look away as Callen makes an incision and digs around under Bram’s skin to retrieve the bullet trapped inside him. Bramwrithes around inpain; his face contorts ina muffled scream, but Seb holds himstill. He’s still holdingmyhand,andhisgriptightens,buthedoesn’tsqueezetootightly evenatthismoment,he’stryingnottohurtme
“Yeah,likethatarseholeneedsanyencouragement,”Igrumblesarcasticallyundermybreath,despitesecretlycheeringhim on
Blood spurts from Bram’s wound like a jacuzzi jet. I’m not sure how Callen can even see what he’s doing, but his movementsarepreciseandcalculated,unblinkingashecontinuesindetermination “Gotit,” Callendeclares,holdingthe bulletup intriumphbetweenhis fingers like it’s anOscar. The onlythinghe’ll be winningisthe‘managingtoremainadickwhilesavingsomeone’slife’award Suddenly,Bram’sbodystopsmovingandtwitching.Hisgriponmeslackens.He’sbeenfightingforsolong.Hecan’tdoit anymore…
The people I killed Ihurtle towards them. Deathcloses in. Itbreathes downmynecklike a bitingbreeze despite the burningfire fillingmy vision.WhenItrytoshaketheimage,I’mcatapultedintoanotherscene.
I deserve to die Slowly Painfully As soon as the Killers Club took me, it was only a matter of time My misdeeds weigheddownonmyconsciousnessheavierthananymoundofsoilcould.
Whenwe were together inthe dungeon, she made me feel somethingIhadn’tfeltina longtime. As muchas I’ve been contentwithmylife,usingmytechskillstosupporttheDukes,shemademerealisethatI’venotallowedmyselftofeel true emotionsforyears.WhenIwantedtogiveupandacceptmydeath,shewasmyreasontokeepfighting.
“Anythingformybrother,”hereplies,openingthegateformetopass Imakethesharpturnandspeedthrough,kickingupadustcloudoverhisblacksuit.I’mfuriousthatwehadtoaskhimfor help, butwe’re outofoptions withthe Killers Club onour tail It’s too riskyto returnto anybuildingwe’re familiar with DoingsomethingIwouldn’tusuallyconsider isourbestplanofaction.Wecan’tbepredictableatatimelikethis,nomatter howmuchIdistrustTorean
Sebthumpsonthebulkheadandyells,“Putyourfootdown!”
Nooneisdyingonmywatch.Iflooritthroughthesite,weavingthroughtheskips,half-builtstructures,andrubbishstrewn over the concrete Up ahead, another car waits outside a warehouse to transport us Although Torean is based close to Edinburgh,hestillhasinfluenceinLondon.We’reluckyhe’sinthecitythismonth.
Oviinclineshisshaven,tattooedheadingreeting He’sanex-streetfighter,andhismusclesbulgeinat-shirtthat’safew sizes too small. We’ve met a few times, and I’ve never seen himwith a jacket, even in the peak of winter. Next to him, Marshall theshorterofthepair glowersatmefromunderneathagreybeaniehatthatherarelytakesoff.He’sofleanbuild withmultiplefacial piercingsandhisblueeyeshaveacrazylookthatmatchhisinfamousunpredictableactions Callentold meheescapedfromapsychiatricinstitutionyearsago,whichdoesn’tsurpriseme.
“She’s with us,” I growl. Ivy’s eyes find mine for a split second, searching for something, but I stare back in cold indifference I’mnotdoingthisforher “She’sourprisoner” Marshalllickshislips.“Pity.”
“Ialreadytoldyou,”IsnarlatMarshall,givinghimafinalwarning “She’swithus” “Fine!”Heholdsuphishandsindefeatandheadsaroundtothedriver’sseat. Meanwhile,Ovi disappears intothewarehouseandreturnsseconds later withawheelchair CallenandSebpantas they dragBram’s feetacross the ground and puthiminit. We won’tbe stayinglong. Above us, helicopter blades whir into life, whipping up the air around us. That’s our ticket to freedom. But, before we leave, Callen needs to ensure Bramis stable enoughtofly
Isinktheneedleintohernecktosilenceher “Sweetdreams,IvyPenrose” Her lips part insurprise at myspeed. Theymake the perfect o-shape, remindingme of how good it sounded whenshe moanedmynamewhileIburiedmycockinsideher Ican’tthinkaboutthat Notnow Secondslater,hereyelidsclose.Herlimbsgolimp,andsheslumpsbackwards.Igiveitanotherminutebeforemovingher. Shepretendedtobehersisterbeforefakingherdeath,soshe’snotabovepretendingtobeunconscious
Istareintothefireplace,watchingthejumpingflamestauntme IfIfocushardenough,Icanalmostseetheorangeflickers morphintofaces:Bram,Callen,Freddie… Ivy. Ishuffle onthe spot. The armchair is less comfortable thanit looks, but Ican’t complainwhenIhave Skeller Rock whiskey I swill the amber liquid around the sides of the crystal glass It’s the best way to unwind after breaking into an assassin's lair and sufferingthrougha helicopter ride fromhell. It’s a miracle no one diedonour journeyto Torean’s secret Scottishhideaway
Hiswordsmakegoosebumpsstandtoattentiononmyarms.HisaccentislikeCallen’s,butthere’ssomethingoff about him… somethingtwisted and unnatural that sets mymental alarmbells ringing. Apredator cansense when they’reinthemidstofanother,andthismanmakesmewanttorun
Frommyseatedposition,Ilookaroundtofamiliarisemyselfwithmynewsurroundings.Myarseisnumbfromthefreezing cement beneath me, made worse by my short skirt Overhead, a strip of light flickers, making my head throb and my windowless, greybrickprisonappear more ominous. Aleakypipe protrudes fromthe wall, drippinginto a poolingpuddle nearmyfeet There’salsoarustybucketashortshuffleaway,presumablyformetouseasatoilet
He looks like Callen, onlyhe doesn’t have shoulder-lengthhair or a beard. He’s clean-shavenwithshort, slicked-back hair His rolled-up shirt sleeves expose blank, tattoo-less skin Have I died and gone to hell? Is this alternative versionof Callenthedevil?Findingouthe’sapermanentresidenttherewouldn’tbeasurprise.
“Where’sBram?”Iquestion.I’mwillingtooverlookhispatronisingpetnamesifIgetanswers.“Isheokay?” “Thatdoesn’tconcernyou,”herepliescoldly Iholdinadeepbreathtomaintainmycomposure.Losingmyshitwon’thelp.Ihavetoplayitsmartandgettoknow the manwhostandsafewfeetaway,studyingmelikeI’mhistwistedscienceexperiment.
I’venever beenheldcaptivebefore.MyKillersClubmarksnever gotclosetoworkingoutmytruemotives,until itwas toolate.Iprefertobeincontrol,butthatdidn’tmeanIwasgoingtofallvictimtohim.I’llfightandkeeponfightingbecause I’masurvivor It’swhatIdo Facingdeathmakesyoucomebackstronger “DoyouthinkIlookfamiliar?”themanasks,cockinghisheadtotheside.“We’venotbeenformallyintroduced,butIknow you’vemetmybrother I’mTorean,thebetter-lookingtwin” Twins? Holy shit. As if one Scottish psychopath wasn’t bad enough. They’re identical, but the closer I look, the more differencesIspot.Toreanhasarigidposture,andwhereCallenhasaplayfulglintinhiseyes,Torean’sareamaliciouspitof nothingness IhopeInevermeettheirparentsbecausesomethingdarkmustrunintheirgenes “Whatdoyouwant?”Idemand. Iunsteadilygetto myfeetand press mybackagainstthe columnto keep me upright Adrenaline is all that’s keepingme standing.
Athunderousexpressiontakesoverhisfeatures,givingmenodoubtthatI’mstaringatabrutalkiller He steps closer. His shoes squeakas he walks, and Iresistthe urge to make a joke abouthimfarting. He’s inches away now,soclosethatIcanfeeltheheatemanatingfromhim.Myspinedigsintothecolumn,whileIwillthechainaroundmyankle tomiraculouslyspringfree
Suddenly,helurchesandgrabsmychin Itryturningaway,butheyanksmyfacearound “Go to hell,” Irasp. Mymouthis dry, butI’ll be damned ifIlethimgetawaywithtalkingto me like that. Ihackup a spitballandlaunchitathisface Theglobofspitlandsonhischeek,andIsmirkinvictory “Youbitch,” he retaliates, jumpingbackand raisinghis hand. Ibrace myselffor impactas he strikes me across the face hard.“Youneedtobetaughtalesson.”
I laugh. Mystingingcheekgives me somethingelse to focus on. His expressionturns explosive now, makingme laugh harder.Ishouldn’ttauntmycaptor,butifhe’salreadydecidedtokillme,it’llchangenothing.Maybethat’swhytheybrought mehere TheDukesaretoocowardlytokillmethemselves,soCallencouldhaveaskedhisbrothertodoitforthem
He trails the blade betweenmytits and keeps goingall the waydownto the top ofmyskirt, leavinga scratchbehind I swallowhard,fightingthedarkmemoriesthatarecomingback.
Spencer… his hands holding me down… my cold skin… the way he…
Iconsiderkneeinghimintheballs,butToreanreadsmymind Hegrabsmyhandcuffsandforcesmyhandsabovemyhead, holdingthemthere. I’mtoo weakto resist. Withhis other hand, he presses the tip ofhis knife into the jumpingpulse onmy neck Onewrongmove,andI’llbeshoweringinmyblood
ToreanturnswhenhehearsmyvoiceandstepsawayfromIvy “Youarrivedattheperfecttime,Callen” I see a flash of panic on Ivy’s face, and then it disappears, hidden behind an impassive expression. I take in the pink handprintonherpalecheekandhowherrippedshirtrevealsherperfectroundtits,barelycoveringhernipples “Whatare youdoing,Torean?” Iask,keepingmytone measuredandfriendlywithoutlookingawayfromthe knife inhis hand.
Torean’s eyes light up at the prospect ofa challenge He turns everythinginto a competition It’s somethingwe have in commonanddevelopedgrowingupwithnothing,beingforcedtoforgeourownwayintheworld.
“Thisismycastle,”Toreandeclares,gesturingatthewallswithhisknife “Shemaybeyourprisoner,butyouareall my guests.You’ddowelltorememberthat.”
Ivyopens her mouthtoargue,butIshoother a‘don’tsayafuckingword’look.For once,shepays attention.Maybeshe senseswe’reintheroomwiththeequivalentofahungrysharkwhostrikesonthefirstscentofblood IfIhadn’tintervened,Ivy wouldn’tbealivebytomorrowmorning.
Toreandoesn’tdiscriminate inwho he kills He kills for fun He enjoys the chase and gets consumed bybloodlust That needissomethingelsewehaveincommon,buthelacksmyself-control.WhileItrytoavoidhurtingwomen,Torean,likeour father,whousedtobeatourmother,doesn’tcare.Heraiseshishandtoanyonewhodarestodefyhim.
“She’sofflimits,”Iwarn,loweringmyvoice.Idon’twanttofighthim,butIwillifIhaveto. “Fine,” Torean relents, tucking his knife away. “But you owe me. My favours don’t come for free. I’m not a fucking SalvationArmy”
BeforeIcansayanything,heblastsicywaterinmydirection Istruggletocatchmybreath,buthekeepsgoing Hehoses me downuntil I’mgaspingfor air and completelydrenched fromhead to toe. Itcan’tgo onfor more thana minute, buthis waterattackseemstolasthours.
Helaughs,puttingonearmabovemyheadtoboxmein.Hisotherhandmovesfrommycheek,strokingthespotwherehis brother hit, thenmoves further down His fingers caress myshoulder blade, ticklingalongits gentle curve, thenglide to my collarboneuntilhereachesmyfreshcut.
His lips graze my ear lobe, and he catches it between his teeth, nibbling slightly. I can’t tell whether I’mimagining it becauseofthecold-inducednumbnesstakingovermybodyuntilhistonguelicksthesideofmyneck Hekeepsgoinguntilhis facerestsbetweenmytits,andthepointofhistonguelapsupthedropletsofbloodpoolingfrommycut.
I’mtoostunnedtospeakas hestands again Westare ateachother,unblinking Neither one ofus wants tobethe firstto breakeyecontact.We’resuckedintothevortexofchaosthatswirlsarounduswheneverwe’retogether.
“We’llseeaboutthat,”hesays,withdrawinghisfingeranddroppingtohisknees Heyanksmyskirtdownandgrabsmywaistpossessivelytoholdmeinplace.Hisbroadshouldersforcemylegstospread wider I groan as his breath warms and teases me, then he presses his lips to my wetness I yelp, grabbing his hair in encouragement.That’sallheneeds.
Callendoesn’teatme outgently. No, he ravages me withhis tongue. He probes and circles, makingme cryoutinto the darkness.Irelinquishmyselftothefeeling,shutmyeyes,andimaginethemanfeastingonmycuntisn’toneofthemonsterswho lockedmeuphere.
He latches ontomyclit,suckinghardtodraw intense pleasure fromme He doesn’tstopwhenIyankhis hair andkeeps going.Thesensationissooverwhelmingthatit’salmostpainful.
Goosebumpscoverherskin,andhercoldthighsclencharoundmyheadasIlickherslipperyclittoteaseanotherbreathy moanfromher lips She’s whatI’ve beencraving Beingaround her is intoxicating, and I’mdrivenbythe urge to make her mine.
All Fucking Mine
I plunge mytongue into her, caressingher fromthe inside Her tensingmuscles show she’s gettingclose, and I want to suspendontheedge.Iwon’tgiveherwhatshewantssoeasily,notafterwhatshe’sdone.
“Is this whatBramdid to you?” Iask, stoppingmyselffromreturningto devour her pussyinstantly. Instead, Icircle her entrancewithtwofingers Shetwitchesundermytouch Shelovesit,butshe’llneveradmitit “Youbastard,”sheseetheswhileherhipsgyrate.
Ibuckharder. She holds me ina grip so tight, tryingto stop herselffromunravelling. There’s onlyso longshe canhold back Ikeepthrusting,ridingoutthewaveofhersweet,gushinghole
Acrossfromme,Bramisfastasleep.IhavetogivetheCampbelltwinssomecredit.Callen’smedicalexpertisesaved Bram’s life,andTorean’s helicopter gotus outoftherequicker thanaskingmyfamilyfor helpwouldhave,notthatI’dhave dared to. Istifle a snort, imagininghow thatconversationwould have went. Sorry, Mother, I have to borrow the royal jet because I’m on the run from a group of assassins after breaking into their lair I’malreadyenoughofadisappointment Bram’s condition is stable, although he looks like a shadow of his former self. He’s lost weight and has fresh scars, includinga brand onhis chest and aninfected wound onhis thigh It’ll take weeks for himto heal properly, but he’ll pull through.That’sthemostimportantthing.That,andmakingtheKillersClubpayforwhattheydidtohim.
Mythoughts inevitablystrayto below ground, where the womanI thought I was fallingfor is beingheld prisoner. The womanwhobetrayedus,andwhoIwasstupidenoughtotrust Freddiehasn’tdecidedwhatwillhappentoIvyyet,andwhile I’mconflicted,Istillneedanswersofmyown.
Idon’tknowwhetherit’sthewhiskeytalkingorthelackofsleep,butanaggingvoiceinthebackofmyheadkeepspushing me.WhatifFreddietakes her somewhereandyounever seeher again?This couldbeyour onlychancetogetanswers.You won’tsleepanyway What’stheharmingoingonamidnightstroll?
Ipeeraroundthedoortocheckwhetherthecoastisclear.Nooneisaround,soIsetoff.Torean’scastleiscreepyasshit. Greyflagstonefloors,sconces,andoilpaintingsofgraphicbattlescenesmakeitseemlikewe’vesteppedbackintomedieval times. I’ve beento myfair share ofold buildings, but this place makes me feel permanentlywatched. Callenonce told me Toreanboughtthecastlebecauseofitsgrislyhistory,andIdon’tdoubtit “Goingsomewhere?”avoicecallsfrombehindme.
I turn to see Marshall approaching I know all about Torean and his band of followers He, Ovi, and Marshall are inseparable.JustasI’mabouttoopenmymouthtotellhimtomindhisownbusinessandreturntoblowingbagpipes,Torean stormsforward,appearingoutofnowherewithafacelikethunder.
I’ve traded one prisonfor another Now I’matthe Duke’s mercy, whichapparentlyincludes late-nightvisits fromCallen, whocanmakemybodycraveeverythingitshouldn’t.
Tears of frustration fall down my cheeks. Stupid fucking Callen. I’mnot crying because I’mupset. No, I’mcrying becauseI’mfuriousthatIcan’tkickhisarse!Beingrescuedbyagangwhohatesmewasbadenough,butI’mnot his personal cumrag,too.
Ipushasidehowincrediblemyorgasmwasandfocusonhowmyspineandshouldersachefrombeingfuckedagainstthe concrete. Although I’m cleaner after the brutal hose down, my upper thighs are a sticky mess, and the temperature has plummeted
Howlongwilltheyleavemehere?Myearsprickupatasound,andIfreezeonthespotlikeI’mtryingtowinagameof musical statues. Footsteps grow louder, andmystomachchurns.Has Toreanreturned tofinishwhathe started before Callen interrupted?Heseemedsetonfindinghisgirl,butmaybehe’schangedhismind
When I see Seb’s white-blonde hair, I breathe a silent sigh of relief. The usual cheeky sparkle in his eyes has been extinguished,andhisshirtisstillfleckedwithBram’sdriedblood Anotherexpressionflitsoverhisfaceashelooksdownat me.
Hearingmyreal name come out of his mouthis surreal. I’munsure how theyfound out about mypast, and I’mbeyond caringnow.Iknewourbubblewouldbursteventually.Noonecanlieandpretendforever.SinceIfoundoutSebwasaDuke, weweredoomedforfailure,butIneverimaginedafuturewherehe’dbealiveandknowthetruthaboutme.
“AskCallen,”Iretort.
Seb’snostrilsflarelikehewantstochargeawayandpinhisfriendagainstthewall,justlikehedidwhenhewalkedinon meandCallenfucking.Thenindifferencereplaceshisangrylook,andatightnessgrowsinmychest.That’sevenworse. “Youcan’tplayus offagainsteachother anymore,” Seb says “We know the truth You’ve beenlyingto us all fromthe start.”
