Chapter 32
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
NOLA
“This isn’t creepy at all,” Callie mutters as we’re led down a dark stairwell inside of a building that looks abandoned from the outside.
“You’re fine,” Garrett chuckles.
“How do you know someone isn’t going to pop out and kill me?” Callie asks him.
“Because I’d gut him before they even get the chance,” he says. “Also, this place is filled with Brotherhood members and their families. Seeing how your brother is one of the heads, unless they all wanna die, you’re fine.”
“What about me?” I ask. “Someone could try and hurt me.” I look at him over my shoulder.
“Lola, I think out of everyone in his building, you’re the least likely to be harmed.”
“What? Just because they wanna fuck her, she’s more important than me, their own sister?” Callie asks, but she doesn’t sound upset.
“No. I’m saying she’s a cold-blooded murderer who kills without thinking. She could just go up and slice all their throats without a care in the world.”
“Wait,” I ask. “Does anyone else know who I am?”
“Well, no,” Garrett replies. “Okay, so fine. You’re safe because you’re with the three heads. Again, the two of you are the most protected people in this building. Stop worrying. If you’re going to be a part of this world, you can’t show fear.”
“Who said I was afraid?” I ask him.
“I’m not afraid. I’m just saying,” Callie mutters. “This location looks like a place where someone brings people to murder them.”
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, we’re met with a black door that has a little window.
Garrett gives the wood three taps with his knuckles, pauses, then gives it four more, followed by another pause before knocking one last time.
The window slides open, but it’s just black behind it.
“Les médecins du sang et de la mort,” Garrett speaks.
And a moment later, the door opens.
“Ready to party?” Callie asks me with an excited grin.
“Ready.”
Callie has been asking her brother more and more about the Brotherhood. While he won’t tell her much, I know Garrett has told her everything he could. He’s a sucker when it comes to that girl.
She’s told me everything, fascinated by it all.
One thing she hates is the fact that women aren’t allowed to be members. They have to be married or related to one of the members to be acknowledged by them.
She believes women should be able to do anything men can do. And I agree.
It wouldn’t surprise me if she tries to challenge the Brotherhood to become a member herself.
Knowing Callie, she’d be the one to make it possible.
“More creepy halls,” Callie grumbles as the already dim lights above us flicker.
I start to hear the faint sound of music, and the further into the building we go, the louder it grows.
We come across another door, and when Callie pulls it open, allowing us to step through, it’s like we’re transported into another world.
“Whoa,” Callie whispers.
My eyes widen as my lips part in awe. It’s like an underground palace of sorts.
It looks like it was taken straight out of the Victorian era. From the crystal chandeliers, to the marble pillars, to the antique furniture. The room is covered in reds and golds. It feels like this place is fit for a king. Or should I say kings.
“Welcome to Pays Des Merveilles,” Garrett says. “Where all your dark and fucked up dreams come true.”
“None of that will be happening tonight.” My head snaps to the side at the sound of Jasper’s voice.
There they are, my men, standing tall and regal.
My heart skips a beat as my body flushes with arousal, and nerves flood my system. All three of their gazes are laser-focused on me.
“I’ll leave you all be. Have fun, girl. Text me later,” Callie says, and just like that, she leaves me alone with the three most powerful men in this room.
It’s hard not to revert back to that babbling virgin girl they thought me to be.
I’m not her anymore. She died the day these three marked me as theirs without even knowing it.
“Little Rabbit,” Wesley purrs. “Don’t you look downright edible.”
They’re all dressed the same. Black suits with gold ties and their masks… match mine. They’re emerald green and gold.
I try not to smile at the fact that they wanted to match with me.
Couple outfits already? I’m here for it.
“Hi,” I breathe, feeling lame because what else do I say?
Hey, so sorry I didn’t tell you about all the girls I’ve been killing so that I could prove how obsessed I am with you. I heard it caused some issues, my bad.
Come on, Nola. You’ve changed, show them that they’re not full of shit.
You’re a badass bitch. Embrace it.
The three of them continue to stare at me, no one saying a word. Okay then, looks like I’m making the first move.
Looking out at the group of gathering people, I see a variety of different colors, dresses, and masks. There’s music playing, and for a moment I think it’s classical.
But when I recognize the tune, I huff out a laugh.
“Please tell me this is the Bridgerton soundtrack.” I turn to face them.
Sylas’ lips curve into a smile. “They wanted to keep the tradition of playing classical music, but I fucking hate classical music. What they don’t know, won’t hurt them.” He winks.
A flicker of joy has me smiling.
A cover of “Give Me Everything” by Pitbull plays, one of my favorite remixes.
“Well, who's going to be the first to dance with me?” I ask, holding out my hand.
Sylas wastes no time reaching out to take my hand in his. “It will be my pleasure, Lola Girl.” The smirk he gives me never fails to make my stomach flutter.
The warmth of his hand in mine sends tingles down my spine.
He turns me around, away from the guys, and walks me down the small set of stairs.
“I guess looks can be deceiving,” I tell him as he spins me around, pulling me into his arms. He wraps one arm around my waist, the other one holding my hand as we start to waltz.
I look up at him, my blood pounding in my ears. He looks down at me, that playful smile pulling on his lips.
“How so?” He cocks his head to the side.
“From the outside, this place looks like a rundown building. But hidden inside is something I never could have imagined.”
He hums, the hand on my back pushing me closer to him. He leans in, bringing his lips to my ear. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Lola Girl. All this time we thought you needed protecting from us, when in reality I think you’re more fucked in the head than we are.”
His chuckle is sultry, making my stomach swoop and my thighs clench together.
“All these years,” he says, pulling back. “We’ve been craving you, obsessing over you, and we could have had you this whole time.”
“You know what they say when someone assumes something,” I snark.
“Yeah? And what's that?” he asks, raising an amused brow.
“You make an ass out of you and me.”
He blinks at me for a second before tossing his head back with a laugh. “Fucking hell, Lola Girl. You really are something, aren’t you? Crazy and funny. The whole package.”
“About time you see it,” I mutter.
He lets go of my hand, making mine fall to his waist as he brings it up to my face. Sylas brushes my lower lip with his thumb, pulling it down and letting it fall back into place. My heart pounds against my chest, and all I want to do is beg him to pull me into a corner and take me.
“You’re in big trouble, Lola Girl,” he murmurs. His eyes are dark and hungry, making me shiver with anticipation. “Do you know how excited we are to punish you?” he groans.
He leans down, bringing his lips close to mine. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he does.
“We’re going to have so much fun with you.”
I whimper, closing my eyes, waiting for him to kiss me.
But when he doesn’t, and I feel his body move away from mine, my eyes flutter open to see Wesley taking Sylas’ place.
He pulls me into his arms as another song starts to play. But we don’t dance. We just stand in the middle of the dance floor, my head tilted back to look up at him. He wraps one arm around me, and his free hand holds a cigarette.
He takes a puff before flicking the ash onto the ground.
“You’re going to set this place on fire.” I frown, looking at the ground.
He steps on it, extinguishing any possibility of a flame and smashing it into the floor.
I look back up at him as he blows the smoke into the air. “There,” he says.
“Smoking kills, you know,” I comment, watching as he takes another puff. He chuckles, the sound rich and deep.
“Little Rabbit, for someone who loves to kill so freely, you sure seem worried about my death.” He raises a brow.
My cheeks heat as I glare at him. “Just because I’m okay with taking a life doesn’t mean I want to see you die.”
“No?” He cocks his head to the side. “Why not?”
“Because I love you,” I respond without hesitation. His eyes darken with heat, making that coiling feeling in my stomach grow.
“So you say…” he drawls. “You know, Little Rabbit, you really are one crazy bitch.”
“Thanks?” I think?
He throws his cigarette to the ground and steps on it before pulling me flush against his body. His hand cradles the back of my head before his fingers tangle into my hair, getting a tight grip and making me gasp.
“Does this mean I can do whatever the fuck I want with you?” he asks, bringing his lips close to mine.
“Yes,” I breathe.
He growls, his hand sliding down to my ass, pulling me closer so that I feel his thick erection. “You liked it, didn’t you?” he asks me. “Everything we did to you that night?”
“Yes,” I whisper, craving that feeling again.
“God, I just want to fucking devour you. Tell me, Little Rabbit, will you cry for me again? Will you give me your fear, your tears, your fucking life?”
“Always,” I breathe, my heart pounding so hard I feel like it’s going to explode right out of my chest.
“Be careful what you agree to, Nola.” Wesley lets go of me, and I let out a whimper of disappointment. “You might not be ready for it.”
He turns around and disappears into the crowd, leaving me there, a needy, wanting mess.
What the fuck?
That's it?
I’m so confused. Are we not going to talk about any of this? Where are they? Why invite me, give me this stunning dress, then leave me?