Chapter 8
Ry
I stand frozen at the railing, my knuckles white as I grip the metal bar. My vision narrows to the chaos below, where bodies continue to drop like dominoes. All I can hear is screams and the heavy thud of security boots as they try to control the panicking crowd.
White-hot rage builds in my chest, choking me. This is my territory. My fucking club. This is fucking war.
Below, Rev moves like a force of nature through the crowd, his face carved from stone as he directs security to block the exits.
No one's getting out until we know what we're dealing with.
Camden weaves between bodies, checking pulses, barking orders into his radio.
Kai is helping load a convulsing woman onto a stretcher, his movements controlled despite the madness surrounding him.
In the distance, sirens wail, getting closer by the second. My jaw clenches. This is going to be a PR nightmare. The club is in the twins' names—all our businesses are—but this is my empire. My rules that someone just pissed on.
"Fuck," I hiss, slamming my palm against the railing.
Through the pandemonium, I see Rev catch Kai's eye, something passing between them in that silent twin language they've had since birth. He jerks his head toward the VIP section—toward me. Kai nods once, sharp and decisive, before breaking away from the medical team and heading for the stairs.
The sirens are screaming now, right outside. Red and blue lights flash through the windows, casting eerie shadows across the walls. We don't have much time.
Kai appears at my side, his face grim, eyes burning with the same fury I feel coursing through my veins. Without a word, he grips my elbow and steers me away from the railing.
"We need to go. Now," he growls, already guiding me toward the private elevator at the back of the VIP section.
"But—"
"Rev's handling it," he cuts me off. "We need to regroup."
I let him pull me into the elevator, my mind racing with all the ways I'm going to make whoever did this suffer. The doors slide shut just as uniformed officers pour into the club below.
The moment we reach the penthouse, I explode.
"Who the FUCK would dare?" I snarl, pacing across the living room like a caged animal. "In our club? Under our fucking noses? I want them found. I want them skinned alive."
Kai watches me, his eyes tracking my movements with predatory focus. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn't even glance at it.
"We'll find them," he says, his voice dangerously soft. "And when we do, they'll wish they'd never been born."
"This isn't coincidence," I snap, running a hand through my hair. "First Fifth Street, now this? Someone's testing us, Kai. Making a move against everything we've built."
"I know." His eyes darken as he stalks toward me. "And they'll pay for it. In blood."
"Damn right they will," I hiss. "I want to tear this city apart until we find them. I want to hunt them down and carve them open myself."
"I know." His voice is calm, but I can see the same rage simmering beneath his controlled exterior.
"We need to find whoever did this and make an example of them. I want their heads on pikes outside the club." I'm shaking now, anger and adrenaline coursing through me like electricity.
“I think that might cause more trouble than some overdoses,” he mutters as his phone buzzes again. He pulls it out to look at it, his jaw tightening, but he makes no move to answer before his attention is on me again. "We will hunt them down. Every last one of them. I promise you that."
"When?" I demand, my voice cracking with fury. "I need blood, Kai. Tonight."
He tosses his phone onto the counter, ignoring the persistent buzzing. His eyes darken as they travel over me, taking in my flushed cheeks, the heaving of my chest, the murderous glint in my eyes.
"God, it's been too long since we've gone hunting together," he murmurs, closing the distance between us. "You have no idea how fucking hot you are like this. When you get that look—that killer gleam—it drives me insane."
His hand slides up my arm, fingers wrapping around my throat, just tight enough to make my pulse jump.
"The way you move when you've got a blade in your hand," he continues, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "The look on your face when you draw blood... makes me hard just thinking about it."
Before I can respond, his mouth crashes into mine. The kiss is brutal, all teeth and tongue, and I taste blood where his teeth catch my lip. I don't care. I need this—need the violence, the release.
His hands tear at my dress, the sound of ripping fabric loud in the quiet apartment. I should be angry—it was expensive—but instead, I help him, clawing at the material until it falls away in tatters.
Kai lifts me in one fluid motion, carrying me to the dining table. He sweeps his arm across it, sending papers flying to the floor before setting me down on the cool surface.
"I need to fuck you," he growls against my mouth. "Need to feel you come apart."
I reach for his belt, desperate to feel him against me, inside me. He bats my hands away, making quick work of his own clothes until he stands before me, naked and hard.
"Spread your legs," he commands, and I obey without hesitation, my thighs falling open for him.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my lace underwear, yanking until the delicate fabric tears with a satisfying snap.
I growl at him, the sound primal and warning, though we both know I won't stop him.
He drags a finger through my slick heat, his eyes never leaving mine. "Already wet for me. Always so ready."
I arch against his touch, needing more. "Fuck me, don’t tease me, Kai."
With one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside me, and I cry out, the sensation overwhelming. He doesn't give me time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that has the table creaking beneath us.
"This is what you need," he pants, one hand braced beside my head, the other gripping my hip hard enough to bruise. "To be fucked until you can't think about anything else."
“Fuck, yesssss,” I moan.
He's right. With each thrust, the rage inside me transforms into something else—something just as primal but infinitely more pleasurable. My nails rake down his back, leaving red trails in their wake, and he hisses in approval.
"That's it, gorgeous. Mark me. Claim me."
I'm close already, the adrenaline and anger pushing me toward the edge faster than usual. Kai senses it, his movements becoming more deliberate, hitting exactly where I need him.
"I can feel your pussy clenching around me," he growls, his voice rough with exertion. "So tight—"
The elevator dings.
My eyes snap open, my body freezing like a startled animal as Hudson steps into our apartment. His expression shifts from urgent to shocked to carefully blank in the space of a heartbeat.
"Fuck," Hudson curses, turning his back to us. "I sent you a message saying I was coming up."
Kai doesn't even slow his pace, his grip on my hips tightening as he continues to drive into me. "I know," he pants, not bothering to look over his shoulder.
The interruption has sent my impending orgasm retreating, leaving me suspended in a state of frustrated arousal. I bite back a whimper of disappointment. My face burns, but my body betrays me, still responding to his relentless rhythm despite—or perhaps because of—our audience.
"We need to go to the Playground," Hudson says, his voice tight with barely controlled irritation. "Now. Your pretty boy dancer sent a message. There's trouble."
Kai laughs, low and dark. "Well, you see, we have a problem." His hips snap forward, making me gasp. "We're not going anywhere until she comes, and she's nowhere near doing that now.” He glances over his shoulder, his smile all teeth. "So you better fucking help if you want us to go anywhere."
Hudson's shoulders go rigid.
"Tick tock, Hudson," Kai taunts, his rhythm never faltering.
He growls, a sound so feral it sends a shiver down my spine and has me clenching around Kai again. "You're a fucking asshole, Kai."