Chapter 21
twenty-one
-Serena-
I don't fully manage to fall asleep—or faint, or whatever the hell I was doing—before the whole house seemed to be tumbling down on us.
A large bang echoes through the hallways, and I can instantly see Set jump out of bed, grab his gun from the nightstand, and start cursing as he storms out of the room.
Grabbing a robe—the nearest piece of clothing I can find—I rush out to see what’s happening. I'm not sure I’d have much strength to fight back if we were attacked or something like that, but I’m not staying naked in the bedroom, waiting to get killed either.
Still, I had a pretty good idea who it was since there’s only one person I know crazy enough to burst into Set's house like this. And, sure enough, I didn't even make it to the main room before I heard Set groan. "What the fuck, Whiro?"
Not that his brother gives a damn it’s well past midnight. "I have an idea," I could hear the madman's voice, and after just a few short seconds, acknowledged his presence.
"The fuck is wrong with you? It's 3 a.m. And where the fuck have you been? You reek of cheap perfume," Set snarls, practically blocking the doorway, like he’s planning to make this a very short visit.
"Took one for the team, bro. It's not my fault Chen has the money to buy this fucking town but still chooses the cheapest whores in Vegas."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Set asks, barely coming to his senses after the abrupt wake-up.
And of course, Whiro notices... again. "Oh, sorry. You look freshly fucked. Guess I’ll need to dumb down things for you for the next few minutes.
" He arches an eyebrow, looking at Set, but the very next second, he seems to spot me in the hallway, and has a change of mind.
"Come to think about it, you don't look freshly fucked.
But she does. So I get that I'm interrupting you. Again."
"Do you know any other line, or is this the best you’ve got?
" Set snaps, annoyed by this visit, and even more annoyed by his brother's sense of humour. I think he should be used to it by now. Because I see Whiro’s invested in this going after Chen as much as Set is.
I suspect it has something to do with his sick pleasure in killing but also of finding a worthy target. And the great opportunity just arose.
"Not my fault you are at it 24/7. Or at least look like you're trying to be. Got some kind of erectile dysfunction, bro? ’Cause I know a guy who-"
I can't help but burst out laughing when Set cuts Whiro off, damn near lunging for his throat for that remark.
"You’ll have erectile dysfunction when I chop your fucking dick off if you don't cut the bullshit.
" A vein in Set's neck begins to pulse, and his attention goes to me as he doesn't let my amusement slide.
"Laugh again, princess, and I’ll bury my piercing so deep in that throat of yours you'll be gagging for an hour. "
"No need to get defensive on us just because you're moody," Whiro raises his arms in mock surrender, probably hoping Set calms down—or probably hoping Set explodes. Honestly, hard to tell with these two. All I know is they're like a headache waiting to turn into a full-blown migraine.
"You want water? Beer? Coffee?" I try to play nice, but it doesn't fit into Set's plan.
"He's not staying," he grunts, glaring at Whiro, who gets way too comfortable, kicking off his shoes like he intends to move in.
"A beer would be great," Whiro nods, and I head to the fridge to grab him one. Hell, I’d even bring him a six-pack if that meant getting on Set's nerves.
I wonder if I’d get punished if I suggested we order food or some treats. Maybe the guy’s starving. He did mention he spent the whole night collecting intel.
Yeah, I’d definitely get punished for suggesting it, but I can’t help but wonder what that punishment would be. Maybe I'd like it.
As soon as I returned, Set shot me a look because I didn't ask him if he wanted anything.
It’s his house, he knows where the fridge is.
Okay, I know I could’ve asked him since I was there, but I did it on purpose. Playing with his nerves seems like the least I can do after all his games lately.
And I must be getting to him because his mood deteriorates by the second.
"I'll ask my assistant to get you a satellite phone first thing in the morning. Next time you’ve got something to say, fucking call. Don’t come crashing through my door.
At three in the fucking morning!" he snaps at Whiro again.
Not that his brother seems to give a damn. "Is 3 a.m. late for normal people? Feels like early noon to me." He shrugs, brushing past Set, and heads for the couch, pushing his hand aside like Set’s barely there.
This man should be locked up, and someone should throw away the key.
Still, he's the only one who can piss Set off this much and get away with it. And I'm seriously starting to consider asking him to move in with us. Seeing Set this fuming mad kind of makes my day—especially considering the endless torment he puts me through. He’s constantly making me battle my own choices to the point where I’m an intruder in my own mind.
"I know this won't be over until you tell me what you found. So the sooner you talk, the faster you leave." Set folds his arms, taking a defensive stance and waiting for Whiro to do his thing and leave. But we both know that's not happening too soon.
"Don't want to hear the spicy details of how I got the intel?" Whiro asks, preparing himself to drag us into one of his probably very fucked up sexual fantasies.
"No thanks. I've heard that story once, and it will last me for a few centuries," Set mutters, grabbing a glass of whiskey, probably just to survive the next few minutes.
"That was back in fucking Sodome. And anyway—you didn’t hear it from me. A gentleman never tells. It was the girls who couldn't keep their mouths shut." Whiro arched an eyebrow, smug satisfaction gleaming on his face.
"Can I be excused? I really don't think I want to hear this," I ask, more than just slightly repulsed by the potential damage hearing the end of this conversation might have on me. Set's madness is one thing, but having to deal with his brother as well is draining the life out of me.
"You don't want to hear what my brother has to say?" Set asks.
Is that even a question? "No, not really," I shrug.
"What he has to say is about Chen, Serena. You know... the man who has put a hit on you? The man I’m going to destroy piece by piece, and feed to the fucking desert vultures."
"I'll handle the chopping," Whiro offers, way too eager to take on the role, and I get the feeling this isn’t his first time volunteering—or disposing of a body.
"I just wish you two were normal," I let out an exhausted sigh as one of Set’s arms wraps around my waist.
"No, you don’t," he counters, nudging me toward the couch before pulling me into his lap.
My internal temperature quickly rises, still very worked up from earlier and his damn chest muscles pressed against the side of my breasts doesn't make things easier for me.
He doesn't usually show this much affection, or even closeness when we are out—especially not in front of other people. It’s about control. Letting his emotions show means exposing weakness. And that could put me in danger.
I guess he feels safe now, or maybe Whiro’s presence is triggering his territorial side. Because nothing’s stopping Set from sliding his fingers up and down my thighs while staring his brother down—who still hasn’t said why he’s here.
"Okay, let's start this because I can see you still haven't finished your business, and as much as I’d love to sit and watch, I think you’ve got problems of your own to deal with first," Whiro shrugs, scooping up Eight-Ball who just came next to him to cuddle on his lap.
"Did your parents drop him on his head as a kid?" The question slips my lips, seriously hoping he was kidding about the watching part.
"I've heard that," Whiro interjects. "Our father did a lot more than just drop me on my head. Maybe my dear brother will tell you one day."
"Whiro..." Set warns, his voice drops into that lethal tone that only manages to pique my curiosity. I’ll have to learn about his past soon—before the questions eat me alive.
I know he's not ready to talk about his past. Claims I'm not ready to listen either, but judging by our recent closeness, the time will come sooner than I was expecting.
Closeness, the word daunts me and makes me think of how I no longer hate Set.
Sure, I hate the way he edges me and makes me surrender part of myself every day to him, but I no longer hate him for what he did to Nick—or my team.
I'm starting to see that as being part of a lesson. One taken to the very extreme, but still one as brutal and valuable as everything he has to offer. Not that I’ll admit it to him anytime soon.
He'd probably go on a killing spree, just to watch me graduate from his essential training for life.
At least he has an excuse, judging by the fact that his brother is much more deranged than he is. I wonder what kind of hellhole they were raised in. It can’t be too good since he keeps delaying talking about it. And look how Whiro turned out.
Right on cue, the bastard gives Eight-Ball a kiss on the head, then grins at me and Set. "If you ever separate, I’ve decided, I'm getting the cat. Make an assassin out of him."
"We're never going to separate," Set snarls, then flashes an evil grin. He truly believes we’ll be together for eternity.
Or probably he just says it because he'll kill me if I try to leave him again.
"Whiro... Chen, remember?" Set has to remind his brother why he came here, though I doubt he forgot. He’s just like playing with us.
"Chen, right. So ever heard of Black Medusa?"