Chapter 4
MALICE
In the time since I first met Willow, I’ve rewritten my thoughts on her a few times.
At first, I thought she was some frail little thing, in the wrong place at the wrong time and doomed to pay the price for that. It wasn’t my problem, and I was willing to do what I had to in order to protect my brothers.
Then I realized she was stronger than I gave her credit for, and that strength became fucking intoxicating, drawing me to her like a moth to a flame, undeniable.
Holding her now, it’s almost like she’s a mix of those two things. Fragile enough to be sobbing herself apart in my arms, but strong enough to stand up to me, to stand up to all three of us, to keep us safe.
Her fucking grandma, that bitch, wants to use her as a pawn, but she doesn’t realize that Willow could never be a pawn. She was always meant to be a queen.
I hold my Solnyshka a bit closer, almost crushing her in my grip, but I can’t help it. Willow doesn’t seem to mind. The tighter I hold on to her, the more she responds in kind, her fingers bunched into the fabric of my shirt, clinging to me like I’m a lifeline.
My head is spinning, and my emotions are a fucking mess right now. The need to protect her and get her away from here is at war with the need to make that pained, desperate, hysterical look on her face disappear.
Every time her body shakes with a sob, I run my hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her. I whisper soothing nonsense, promising it’s going to be okay, that we’re all here for her, but at the same time, my head is full of one question.
How?
How the fuck are we supposed to keep her safe when she’s trying to do the same for us, and there’s a crazy, megalomaniac bitch pulling the strings?
One fucking step at a time, I guess. Or die trying.
For the moment, I just focus on the here and now, holding Willow and letting her cry herself out.
Ransom is on her left side, stroking her arm, running his fingers through her hair. He’s quiet, which isn’t like him, but there’s a storm of conflicted feelings on his face, so I get it.
Vic’s on the other side, and he has one hand stretched out, like he wants to touch her but can’t quite get there. He steps in as close as he dares to and finally lets the fingers of that hand tangle in the fabric of Willow’s dress. Close enough, I guess.
“We’ll figure it out,” he promises her, and the heaviness of those words isn’t lost on me. It’s what Vic always promises when he plans to throw his whole self into something, and he doesn’t do it for just anyone.
Eventually, the shaking and sobbing eases up, and Willow lifts her face from my shirt. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are puffy from crying, but she seems calmer than she did before.
I pull back reluctantly, not wanting to let her go.
She still has tear streaks down her cheeks, the wetness clumping her pale lashes together, and I reach up, using one thumb to wipe them away.
Even in this state, she’s still so fucking beautiful to me. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, and she always will be.
“Listen to me, Solnyshka,” I tell her, keeping my voice low.
“We don’t have any plans to let your fucking grandma kill us or send us to jail.
But there’s also no way we can let you be forced to marry someone else.
Especially someone that bitch picked out for you, knowing full well that he’s a piece of shit.
So we’ll have to come up with a third option. ”
“What’s the third option?” she murmurs, her voice rough from crying.
“Plan C,” I say. “We’ll just have to come up with it.”
Hope blooms in her eyes, and although it’s just a tiny spark, nearly drowned out by the pain and fear, it’s still there. And it’s really fucking good to see.
“You know, this is something we’ve gotten good at,” Ransom puts in, grinning. “We’re always coming up with a new plan on the fly, changing things up, figuring out a way around obstacles. If we weren’t good at that shit, we’d be dead by now. We can do it this time too.”
Something flickers through Vic’s eyes, and he peels away from our little group, moving through the living room, checking things carefully.
Once he’s satisfied in here, he moves into each of the other rooms, being thorough in a way that only he can be, and probably subconsciously cleaning as he goes.
“Okay,” he announces when he comes back. “The place is clean.”
Willow gives him a confused look, and he clarifies. “I was checking to make sure she didn’t have any bugs planted in here. To listen in on you.”
“Only you would think to do that,” Willow murmurs. “I guess it’s kind of your area of expertise, huh?”
Her lips turn up in a halfhearted smile, but it’s nice to hear her joking again.
Vic smiles back, inclining his head as his blue eyes meet hers. “Exactly.”
Ransom goes to the window and peeks out, keeping his head low. “Black car?” he asks. “Some kind of SUV?”
“That’s the guy who drove me home,” Willow confirms.
“Ransom?” I cock a brow at him, and he hears my unspoken question, giving me a rundown of what he sees outside.
“One guy in the car, behind the wheel. Probably armed, but hard to tell. We didn’t see anyone else on our way in, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have other guards stationed somewhere in or around the building.”
Willow rubs at the spot on her wrist where she said some guy put a tracker under her skin. “She doesn’t need other guards,” she murmurs. “She’s holding all the cards.”
“For now, maybe,” I tell her. “But we can come up with a way to fuck that up for her.”
I guide Willow to the couch, sitting her down.
Ransom and I sit on either side of her, and Vic takes his usual chair, although he scoots it closer to the couch.
This is the way my brothers and I usually come up with plans, the three of us sitting in our living room, ready to bicker and pitch ideas until we have something we’re happy with.
Before we even start talking, Ransom pulls Willow into his lap, and she goes easily. She melts into his touch, and my younger brother lets out a quiet sigh, as if being close to her is helping him stay calm as well.
My own palms tingle, itching to have my hands on her, to have her in my own arms again. But I know she needs this. She needs to feel grounded by all three of us in whatever ways we can make that happen.
Ransom’s always been good with her, a hell of a lot better than I am most of the time. He’s good at getting her to open up and feel comfortable with him, and right now, she needs that comfort.
I want that for her, after the fucking mess of a day she’s had.
“Let’s go over the facts first,” Vic says, taking point. “Today was… a lot. A lot of new information came to light, and we haven’t really had a chance to sort through all of it.”
“Well, we know Olivia fucking Stanton is X.” Ransom snorts. “Biggest surprise of the day, I’d say.”
He’s right about that. This whole time, we’d been picturing some well-connected man, sitting in the shadows, pulling the strings. We’d considered the idea that it was someone we knew personally before, someone who had a personal stake in our lives and knew how to push our buttons.
But we never could have expected it to be Willow’s grandmother.
“Is there any chance she was bluffing?” Vic asks. “Any chance she lied about that?”
I glance at him, aware that he’s just asking the question to be thorough and cover all our bases. But we all know the answer.
“No,” I say. “She’s definitely X. She knew too much, and unless she’s somehow someone even bigger than X, someone X might’ve been answering to, she had to have been telling the truth.”
Vic nods, his dark hair glinting under the overhead lights.
“Then we know she’s not bluffing. She has the ability to send Malice back to jail—and to possibly put us all away if she wanted to.
We have no idea how extensive her network might be, both in the criminal world and the legit side of things, but we know she plans to keep close tabs on Willow.
Did she say anything about making you move in with her? ”
He addresses that last question to Willow, who shakes her head, straightening a little from where she’s leaning against Ransom’s chest.
“No,” Willow murmurs. “But I assume she’ll want me to live with Troy after we get married.”
That last word sounds bitter as it comes out of her mouth, and it makes my jaw go tight, my hands unconsciously clenching into fists.
Vic hesitates, and I can tell he’s grappling with what she just said too.
Then he clears his throat and responds. “Well, she’s clearly taking steps to make sure you can’t run away, even if she’s letting you stay on your own for now.
Either way, escaping would be dangerous, and as you said, Olivia has the resources to hunt us down. ”
“You sound like a real ray of sunshine right now, Vic,” Ransom mumbles, pulling Willow closer in his lap. He nuzzles against her, and she rests her head against his, both of them looking at Vic to see where he’s going with this.
My twin rolls his eyes, although the rest of his expression barely changes.
“I’m laying out the facts,” he says. “We have to know what we’re working against if we’re going to figure out a plan.”
“It makes sense,” Willow murmurs. “I don’t want to miss something because we… weren’t looking at all the facts.”
Vic shoots Ransom a look, and our younger brother grimaces but nods. The fact of the matter is, there’s not a lot of wiggle room here. Olivia Stanton is an evil bitch, but she’s an evil bitch with connections and resources that we could only dream about.
“We could just kill her,” I mutter under my breath.
“No,” Willow says immediately. “She’s not like Carl or any of the other people you’ve gone after. Her death can’t be covered up that easily. She’s a prominent member of society, and even if the people in her circle are as two-faced as she is, they’ll ask questions. You can’t do that.”
I shrug one shoulder, slumping down on the couch even more. “I was kidding. Mostly.”
Because fuck, it would feel good to take her out after all the pain she’s put Willow through.
“No murders,” Vic agrees. “But there might be something in the fact that she’s X that we can use to our advantage.”
“What do you mean?” Ransom asks.
“She threatened to use the jobs we’ve done for X against us, but maybe we can do the same to her. We could try to get evidence that links Olivia to all the crimes she had us commit.”
“And then turn her in?” Willow wants to know. “Wouldn’t that just link you to the crimes as well?”
Vic shakes his head. “No. We don’t turn her in. We blackmail her. People like Olivia value their reputations more than anything, so if we threaten to expose her if she doesn’t let you go…”
“Then she might be willing to do it without trying to fuck us in the process,” I finish. “It’s an idea.”
“How do we get the evidence we need?” Ransom asks.
Vic’s eyes flick to Willow. “You’re the only one who has access to her house. To her, really. You’ll have to find a way to snoop around her mansion and see what you can find.”
Determination fills Willow’s eyes, and it settles something inside my chest. That hopeless, panicked look is finally starting to be chased away, and I’m glad to see it gone. She should never have to feel like that.
“I can do that,” she agrees with a nod, resolve clear in her tone.
Pride fills me at the sound of it. She’s steel all the way through, our girl, and she’s going to find a way out of this.
My fingers itch to touch her, and just like that, I decide Ransom has had enough time cuddling her or whatever. I pull her into my own lap, and she comes willingly, settling in and melting against me just like she did with him.
Fuck. I like that a lot.
She’s a warm, comforting weight, and I wrap my arms around her, nuzzling into her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and her skin.
“It’s the best idea we’ve got,” I murmur after a moment, agreeing with Vic’s plan. “But we need a backup. If this plan doesn’t work, we’re still not letting Willow marry Tony.”
“Troy,” Willow corrects, her lip curling.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I shoot back. “You’re not marrying him. We’ll run for it and deal with the consequences of that, whatever they may be.”
“Malice,” Willow starts, drawing back a little to look at me. “We can’t—”
“No, Solnyshka. That’s non-negotiable,” I say, cutting her off. “It’s not fucking happening.”
She stares at me for a second, her eyes bouncing between mine. I let her look for as long as she wants, my expression making it clear how goddamn serious I am about this.
After a moment, she sighs, nodding her agreement.
“Good girl,” I growl. Palming the back of her head, I pull her into a kiss.
I can never seem to hold myself back when it comes to her, but I’m starting to learn that Willow doesn’t need or want me to. She meets my kiss, not flinching at the rough, possessive way I hold on to her and how I slide my tongue into her mouth, sweeping through it like I’m laying a claim.
She trembles slightly against me, but this time it feels more like it’s from pleasure than the panic of earlier. She makes a soft noise against my mouth, and I nip at her bottom lip before pulling back.
“Ty vyydesh' za drugogo muzhchinu iz-za moyego trupa,” I growl. “Ya ub'yu yego, yesli on khotya by popytayetsya.”
I wind one hand up and into her soft blonde hair, fisting it near the roots and making her look at me. Her pupils are blown wide, darkening her gold-flecked brown irises, her lips pink and wet, and she looks fucking perfect.
“You’re ours,” I remind her, my voice firm and intense. “No matter what happens, that’s never gonna change. We’ll never let you belong to anyone else.”