12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Wrenley
The room is thick with silence, coiled and ready to strike. The kind of silence that crackles, edged with violence and barely veiled contempt.
Sebastian leans forward, eyes gleaming with amusement, and asks, “So, which ones are your husbands?”
I smile slowly. “Take your pick. I love them all.”
The woman beside him scoffs. I don’t spare her a glance. Sebastian says nothing to that statement.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You told my men up front you have something of ours. Enlighten me, what could you possibly have?”
He sighs and reaches slowly into his jacket, making Reaper pull his gun. Every Serpent in the room tenses. But he doesn’t pull a weapon. He pulls out a phone and shows me a live feed. It’s Margot’s mother, sleeping in her bed. The camera angle is professional, almost theatrical.
The sight of her, makes me straighten in my chair. “I should kill all three of you where you sit.” I threaten.
“She’ll wake up soon enough,” he says. “But if I’m not heard from in the next fifteen minutes, she doesn’t wake up at all.”
I let out a long exhale. “Say what you came here to tell me.”
Sebastian steeples his fingers like he’s toying with a chess piece. “You could be so much richer, you know. I offered you something better than this. Empire-level wealth. You’re good, Wrenley. But you’re not untouchable.”
I lean back, the dagger already warm in my palm. My smile doesn’t reach my eyes “And you think blackmail and veiled threats make you powerful? That they’ll make me trust you?”
Reaper’s voice cuts through like steel. “We don’t deal in your kind of filth.”
The other man, twitchy, younger, sneers. “Who the hell are you?”
His answer is low and lethal. “Reaper.”
The name lands like a gunshot. The man swallows visibly, his eyes flicking toward the door. I giggle, low and unbothered, and Sebastian’s attention snaps back to me like a huntsman scenting blood. He drinks in the sound like its wine. That alone makes my skin crawl.
“Do you even understand what I’m offering you?
” Sebastian drawls. “You could run half the city, maybe more. Connections. Safety. Loyalty. All I want is a seat at the table. The Ashford’s were on the way to securing it, but Benjamin started squandering that influence chasing righteousness. Don’t make the same mistake.”
I stare at him, cold fury dancing along my spine, “I told you once, you run your world, and I will run mine. We will not be doing business together.”
The woman beside him leans in, lips curling into a smirk. “She’s feisty, perfect for the House of Silk.”
The name is new. But I know what it means. I see it in the way Sebastian’s eyes gleam. Brothel is too soft a word. This is something worse, twisted and controlled. A cage lined with velvet and chains.
Sebastian grins. “We take care of our girls there. They never want to leave.”
“You mean they can’t leave. You really think I’ll ever be part of that? You think you’ll twist my hand and I’ll fold. Fuck. You.”
The woman rolls her eyes, then condescendingly says. “Princess, you should stay quiet and accept the deal.”
That nickname again, it hits like a slap. Princess. The name my father called me, before I shattered everything he built. Before I burned the legacy the tried to force on me. My vision goes sharp. The red comes fast. I move without hesitation.
The dagger leaves my hand with deadly precision and buries itself in the woman’s throat before she even realizes what’s happening. Her eyes go wide. She topples over backward, chair crashing to the floor beneath her.
Torque and Wrecker already have weapons drawn. I say nothing. I don’t need to. The man with Sebastian looks as if he might pass out. I wouldn’t mind if he did. But Sebastian? He just looks down at the growing pool of blood. Then back up at me, with a maddening calm.
“I suppose that was your answer,” he murmurs.
I clench my jaw so tight my teeth hurt. He smiles faintly and rises from his seat. “I will walk out of here alive. I showed you how I made sure of that. I know your love for our former nanny, sister.”
Sister.
He lets the word hang like rot in the air. Torque and Wrecker flank him instantly, guns raised, but he doesn’t flinch. As he nears the club doors, he glances back once more. His voice is low, soft, and almost loving.
“Your soul is blacker than I thought, baby sister. I’ll see you soon.”
The door clicks shut behind him, but I’m still staring, chest heaving.
The scent of blood lingers thick in the air.
My dagger is where I left it, gleaming in the neck of the woman I silenced.
I should feel something like guilt. Regret.
Horror. But I don’t. I feel alive, wired.
Lit from within by something hot and vicious and aching for more.
I glance toward Wrecker and Torque. “Get Elias and Riot to Julie’s house. Now. I want eyes on her and I want a call the second they see her.”
Liam’s eyes find mine across the room, burning like they always do when I come undone in front of him, but this time it’s different. This time, I see the edge in him flare to life, the part of him he doesn’t show the others.
“Little warrior?” he murmurs. A question, a promise, a warning. I don’t answer. I move.
My mouth crashes into his like I’ve been waiting years to do it again. His hands grip my thighs hard enough to bruise as I jump, legs locking around his waist, his back slamming into the wall behind us.
The room stirs. Someone wolf whistles. Torque calls out, “Clear out.”
Boots shuffle. The door clicks again. We’re alone. Finally.
He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t ask. His mouth takes mine again, deeper this time, rougher, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of me from the inside out.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he growls, voice raw.
“I think I do,” I whisper, tugging his shirt over his head.
He peels mine off just as fast, his fingers already skimming my ribs, my spine, the curve of my hips worshipping every detail of my body.
“You want this?” he breathes.
“I want you.” My voice is fire and desperation.
His hands tighten, and then he’s backing me towards the table I just threatened my brother from, where the world tilted sideways.
He lifts me onto it without breaking the kiss.
The wood is cool under my skin, but Liam is all heat, his mouth trailing down my neck, my collarbone, biting softly at the sensitive place where my shoulder meets my throat.
I arch into him. I need him. Every touch is rough, reverent, starving. He’s trying to erase everything that came before him and brand himself into my bones.
He drags my pants down and my legs wrap tighter around him. His hands push my knees apart, his breath catching as he looks down at me like he’s seeing something sacred.
“You’re mine,” he says, dark and certain.
“Yes,” I whisper. “I’m yours.”
He leans in again, biting my lower lip just enough to make me gasp. “Then say it louder.”
“I’m yours,” I repeat, louder now. Breathless. Wrecked. “Yours.”
He groans as the words break him open. His hands drag down my thighs again, firm and claiming, before he pushes into me with one strong, aching thrust. We both gasp, me at the fullness, the stretch; him at the way I clutch him like I might never let go.
We move together. Not soft, not slow. This is a claim.
His hand finds the back of my neck, holding me still as he kisses me deep and relentlessly. I rake my nails down his back, marking him the way he’s marking me. His hips fire harder, faster. His name falls from my lips between gasps.
“God, Wrenley,” he growls. “You’re going to ruin me.”
“You first,” I whisper, lips brushing his ear.
He groans deep, guttural, and with a final shuddering thrust, we both come undone, clutching each other like lifelines. I collapse back onto the table, breathing hard. His forehead rests against mine, our skin slick and trembling, our bodies wrecked.
There’s blood on the floor. There’s a body cooling five feet away. But he looks at me like I’m salvation. And I feel it, the vow burning into my chest.
He touches my face again, gentle now. “You’re fucking unstoppable.”
I smirk, tugging him closer by the back of his neck. “Don’t forget it.”
I tug my shirt back over my head, still breathless, the echo of Liam’s body pressed to mine not yet faded from my skin. The scent of blood lingers, iron and final, I don’t flinch when the door opens.
Torque steps in first, grinning like the bastard just walked into his favorite scene. Wrecker’s behind him, whistling low under his breath, and Hunter brings up the rear, eyes scanning the room with the cool professionalism I’ve come to depend on.
They all know. They were here when I jumped him. I can see it in the way they’re trying not to laugh, the sideways glances at Liam’s flushed face and my still-damp hair. I don’t care. Let them look. Let them know.
Hunter crouches beside the body without a single word of judgment, just calm, trained movements. He plucks the dagger from the woman’s neck, wipes it on her now ruined blouse, then rises to hand it back to me.
“Here you go, Miss Wrenley.” He places it in my palm like a gift of honor.
“Riot called,” Torque adds from behind him. “Her house is secure. He and Elias are with her now.”
“I’ll have a couple of guys help me take care of this. We’ll find out who she was and get everything to Elias.” Hunter continues.
I meet his eyes, not letting go of his hand yet. “Hunter,” I say. “We don’t pay you near enough.”
His mouth tips into the faintest smile. “No ma’am, you don’t.”
He turns, already barking orders into his phone before the door fully shuts behind him. His efficiency is a comfort, cold, clean, and surgical.
Torque claps Liam on the shoulder as he walks past, eyes still gleaming. “Well,” he says with that shit-eating grin, “Milkshakes on the way home.”
I snort, shaking my head. “You know it. Extra whipped cream.”
Liam’s hand brushes mine, grounding me, and I squeeze it once before letting go. Silently telling him that I am not going to fall apart.
“We should go,” I say, already walking toward the door. “Let’s share what we’ve learned.”
There’s blood behind me, a dead woman cooling on the floor, and a brother out there with my name carved into his obsession.
But right now? I feel powerful. Untouchable. Alive. Unafraid.