Page 36 of Princes of Carnage

“Yeah, married people who actually want to spend time in each other’s company,” I shoot back. “That doesn’t include us.”

“I already told you we’re not doing this halfway.” He drops his gaze to my tattooed chest for a moment before finding my eyes again. “If we’re going to be allies—real allies, not just on paper—we actually have to join forces. That means living together, sharing space. No room for secrets. No room for lies.”

He’s in my space now, so close that I can see the little flecks of blue in his green eye and the hints of green in his blue one. His brows are drawn together over those infuriatingly gorgeous eyes, and he’s staring at me with an expression that makes it clear he’s not going to back down.

Fuck.

My heart is still racing from the visceral response that shot through me when he told me his men would come pack up my stuff so I could move in with him and the others at their clubhouse. The truth is, that reaction isn’t just from the shock of his sudden new demand, but from the panic that shot through me at the idea of moving out of my home.

I don’t want to leave that house. It’s where my dad lived, where I grew up. It’s one of the strongest tangible reminders that I have left of him, and I can’t give that up.

Setting my jaw, I avert my gaze a little, looking past the three men. I don’t want them to see the flash of vulnerability in my eyes at the thought of my father, knowing it’s a weakness they’d probably be only too happy to exploit.

“I’m not moving out of my house,” I say, my voice just as hard as Nico’s was. “That’s not negotiable.”

He doesn’t respond for a long moment, studying my face like he’s trying to read my thoughts. I keep my expression as blank and impassive as I can, which is difficult considering how close to the surface my emotions have been today.

Finally, Nico nods. “Alright, mia cara. You win. I’m a modern man, so I have no issue being the one to move in with you. If I have to have people moving shit anyway, I can get them to move my stuff, and Atlas and Killian’s, to your house instead.”

There’s a short-lived flood of relief at his concession that I won’t have to be the one to move in with him. But then the rest of what he just said fully registers with me, and my jaw drops.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demand.

He can’t be serious. It will be bad enough to have just him in my space, but Atlas and Killian too? That’s too fucking much.

Nico just shrugs, looking darkly satisfied. “It’s a compromise. Like I keep saying, I don’t trust you yet.”

“You can’t just—”

“Atlas and Killian have my back,” he says, cutting me off. “So where I go, they go. Which means you’d better get ready to have three new roommates, wife.”

13

QUINN

Three new roommates?

God fucking dammit.

My mind races as I stare up at Nico through slitted eyes. We’ve been married for less than an hour, and already, my life has been completely turned upside down.

When I said ‘I do,’ I was planning on dealing with him from a distance. I had prepared myself for him insisting on meeting on his turf, trying to throw his weight around and leverage our marriage to his advantage. But I had no idea that he planned on taking it this far.

I glance at Killian and Atlas, surprised the two of them haven’t spoken up yet. Atlas is glowering at me like he’s just waiting for a kill order from Nico, and Killian’s face is still impassive, although something has shifted behind his eyes.

“What about you two?” I ask. “You’re fine with him just deciding that you have to play house with me?”

Atlas grinds his jaw, and I can tell there’s something he wants to say, but he doesn’t vocalize it. Instead, he just shrugs a shoulder, which is a good enough answer that he’ll do whatever Nico tells him to do.

Killian, predictably, says nothing.

I can’t tell whether this is something they already planned between the three of them, or if Nico’s two attack dogs are just as blindsided by this as I am. Either way, it’s clear that the two of them aren’t going to talk him out of it.

I drum my fingers against my thigh, trying to come up with some alternative that Nico might accept. I guess I could say I’d move in with them at the clubhouse after all, but that still means I’d be living with all three of them. And to be honest, I don’t want to be on their turf like that. I don’t want to have to look over my shoulder constantly, wondering when the knife is going to slip between my ribs. I’d be outnumbered in a big way, and the thought of that makes my skin crawl.

Then there’s always the tried and true method of just removing them from the picture entirely. I have my gun strapped to my thigh, hidden under the dress, and I could probably reach for it and take out at least one of them before the other two could make a move. Taking out all three of them would be an issue though, and ultimately, that would be a stupid plan.

The chances of me getting out of a fight like that alive are pretty slim, and if I killed the three most important members of the Princes of Carnage, the full fury of the rest of their gang would come down on mine. That would defeat the purpose of trying to keep my gang safe in the first place.

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