Chapter 14
RAF
It’s well past midnight when the vibration of my phone drags me from the edge of sleep.
I reach blindly toward the nightstand, fingers fumbling until they finally close around the damn thing. One eye cracks open as I bring it into view, reading the name on the display.
Unknown Caller.
That alone is enough to pull me fully awake.
I push myself upright, scrubbing a hand down my face while my phone continues buzzing in my palm. Whoever’s calling this late either has a death wish or a very good reason.
I swipe to answer and press it to my ear. “Romero.”
“You have something that belongs to me,” a deep voice drawls.
Every muscle in my body snaps taut.
I sit up straighter, pressing the phone tighter to my ear. I don’t recognize the voice, but I know exactly who it is.
Damien Voss. Owner of the Dollhouse. And apparently the kind of man who handles business personally when someone interferes with his inventory.
“You’re mistaken, Voss,” I reply smoothly, even as my pulse starts to tick upward. “I simply repossessed what was already mine.”
“Not according to the contract of sale your father executed,” he fires back, amusement lacing his tone.
My jaw tightens.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, planting my feet on the floor as I lean forward, forearms braced against my knees. “And therein lies the problem. She wasn’t his to sell, so that contract is null and void.”
“The playground rules you operate by at Corvus don’t apply out here in the real world,” he scoffs. “Documents were signed. Money changed hands.”
The condescension in his tone makes something dark and violent stir in my chest, but I force it down and draw a steady inhale.
“You made a poor investment, Voss,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Which I’m sure you realized when you saw our tag permanently inked on her skin. You should’ve returned her then and there, but instead chose to tamper with Kings’ property.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, the two of us at a standoff.
“Tell you what,” I add lightly. “We’ll settle her debt. Refund the purchase price, and we can all just walk away from this.”
A quiet chuckle hums through the line. “I’m afraid her price has gone up.”
My grip tightens around the phone.
“The most recent bid at auction,” he continues pleasantly, “was more than four times her original purchase price.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep a curse from slipping out.
Of course she drew bidders. Not only is Ava a hot piece of ass, but her affiliation with my family name is more than enough to attract attention on its own. Add in the extra prize of her virginity, and it’s like tossing meat into a tank of starving piranhas.
“I’ve made my offer,” I say after a beat, voice dropping into something colder. “Considering you can’t step foot on this campus to reclaim what you lost, I’d strongly consider taking it and moving on.”
The silence on the other end persists. Then Voss exhales slowly, like a parent disappointed in a stubborn child. “I’d hoped we could handle this amicably.”
A humorless laugh slips from my throat. “We still can.”
Another pause, heavier this time. Two predators circling each other in the dark.
“We’ll see about that,” he finally replies, his tone clipped.
The line goes dead before I can respond.
I keep the phone pressed to my ear for a second longer, then slowly lower it, staring down at the darkened screen. Then I toss it onto the bed and push to my feet, storming for the door.
If Damien Voss thinks he can threaten us into compliance with a phone call, he’s out of his fucking mind. We’re Kings.
We don’t bend. We don’t negotiate from a position of fear. And we sure as hell don’t hand over what’s ours because someone else thinks they have a stronger claim.
The tension in my shoulders builds as I cross the room, wrenching the door open so hard that the hinges rattle.
“Ford! Wes!” I bark out, bare feet slapping against the hardwood as I move down the dark hallway.
The apartment is dead quiet, everyone seemingly asleep, but beneath the stillness I swear I can still hear the faint echo of Ava’s moans. The sounds she made earlier crawled underneath my skin and stayed there, buzzing in the back of my skull all night while I fought for sleep.
Seems fair that her rest be interrupted, too.
I flip on the hallway light as I approach Ford’s door, turning the knob and kicking it open with more force than necessary. It rebounds off the wall with a sharp crack, harsh light from the hall flooding inside.
Ava jerks upright with a startled gasp, scrambling to clutch the sheet to her chest. Her hair is a tangled mess around her face, cheeks flushed, eyes still heavy-lidded from sleep.
Or something else.
The sheet slips just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her right nipple before she yanks the fabric over, my gaze lingering for half a second too long.
Fuck.
Ford sits up beside her with far less urgency, squinting against the light with a lazy kind of irritation. His hair’s just as wrecked, a satisfied smirk tugging at his mouth.
“What’s up?” he asks, voice rough.
“Meeting,” I reply sharply. “Now.”
I turn away before he can argue, continuing down the hall toward Wes’ room. I’ve barely made it past the kitchen when he rounds the corner from the opposite hall, wearing nothing but a pair of tight blue boxer briefs. He rubs a hand across his face, blinking slowly into awareness.
“You’re calling a meeting?” he rasps.
I jerk my head in a tight nod and pivot toward the living room without breaking stride, restless energy building under my skin as I drop onto one end of the couch. I brace my forearms on my knees, leaning forward as Wes takes the opposite side, his attention sharpening by the second.
Ford appears a moment later, dragging a loose pair of sweatpants up his hips. Ava trails behind him, her petite figure swallowed up by one of his t-shirts, the hem grazing the tops of her bare thighs.
Something twisted and ugly coils in my chest as I watch her cross the room, some traitorous part of my brain latching onto the thought that it should be my shirt she’s wearing, my bed she just climbed out of. I clamp down on it hard, forcing my expression to remain neutral.
Ford drops into his recliner and hooks a hand around her waist, dragging her down into his lap. She goes easily, arching her back like a cat before settling against him, her head tipping back onto his shoulder.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood.
“What’s this about?” Wes asks, his gaze flicking between us.
I lean back onto the couch, dragging a hand down my face as I draw a deep, steadying breath to keep the shadows at bay. “I just got off the phone with Damien Voss.”
The mention of that name sucks the air out of the room in an instant.
Wes stiffens, his head snapping in my direction as the lingering fog of sleep disappears completely. Across from us, Ava goes pale, eyes widening in fear. Ford shifts her more comfortably on his lap, arching a brow in my direction.
“And?” he asks.
I hold his gaze. “He wants his property back.”
Ava’s breath catches softly, eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route.
“Yeah, well,” Ford drawls, lazily trailing his fingers along her bare thigh, “that’s obviously not happening.”
Wes leans back and crosses his arms, his jaw ticking. “Hope you told him that,” he grumbles.
“No.”
All three of their heads snap toward me instantly.
“The fuck, Raf?” Ford spits.
I roll my eyes, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck to work out the tension that’s been building there since the call. “I told him the Dollhouse has no claim to her since she’s Kings’ property,” I murmur. “That contract of sale doesn’t mean shit because we didn’t sign off on it.”
Ford scoffs a laugh. “And how’d that land?”
“He disagreed, obviously,” I mutter. “So, I offered to refund her purchase price in exchange for a clean break.”
Wes leans forward slightly, brows pulling together. “And you’re planning to do that how, exactly?”
“Sell off that weapons shipment we intercepted,” I reply with a shrug. “We need to move it anyway, tie up that loose end before Gideon starts sniffing around. Seemed like a win-win.”
Ford scrubs a hand over his jaw, already reading between the lines. “I’m guessing he didn’t take the deal, or you wouldn’t be waking us up in the middle of the night.”
“No,” I grunt. “Top bid’s already four times that.”
Ford shakes his head, letting out a low whistle. “Damn, our girl’s getting expensive. Maybe we should hold our own auction.”
Ava stiffens in his lap, lips parting in disbelief as she whips her gaze toward him.
“Don’t worry, Ava baby,” he adds with a laugh, clearly pleased with himself for provoking that reaction.
“Our deal still holds.” His hand drifts up her side as his gaze drags over her, slow and deliberate.
“But Raf should probably pop your cherry sooner rather than later, because once you get fucked, so does their auction. They’ll have to shut it down, cut their losses. ”
“We can’t assume anything,” Wes grumbles, flexing his hands like he’s already running through worst-case scenarios.
We’re all quiet for a moment as the full weight of the situation settles in. We’ve never dealt with the Dollhouse before; at least not directly. There’s no telling the lengths they’ll go to in reclaiming one of their assets.
Ford taps his fingers idly against Ava’s hip, thinking. “So what’s the move? Just keep her here until they get bored and move on?”
“Doubt it’ll be that simple,” Wes mutters.
“It won’t be,” I agree, leaning forward again. “Which is why we don’t sit around and wait for their next move. We stay ahead of it, think two steps out.”
Ford glances at me, one brow lifting. “You got a plan?”
“We cut every tie between Ava and the Dollhouse,” I murmur, thinking aloud. “Purge her files. Destroy any copies of that contract.” My gaze shifts to Ford. “You take point on that. See if your brother can get you in.”