Page 50 of Heirs of Havoc

“You calling me ruthless, Merlo?” he asks, his eyes on the pan.

“Do I need to remind you about your attempt to run me over?” And that’s why I shouldn’t be thinking about his lips on my body. Or that he’s some sort of hero. “Sinatra was playing then too.”

“Was only doing my job.” Typical. “Did it set the mood?”

My nose twists. “Does Dom know about what you two did afterwards? When you had me spread on the—”

“Fuck,” Vlad hisses, the pan dropping to the stove. He mutters to himself, bringing his finger to his mouth.

My shoulders drop, something stirring in me when I see him in pain. The same feeling I had yesterday. “Here.” Rounding the island, I reach for his hand, ignoring the warmth that spreads through me when I do. Vlad’s warm touches are always a contrast to his cold, hard exterior. He’s like a soldier. Stoic. Rigid. Apathetic.

“Always Mother-Fucking-Theresa,” he says, and when I look up, his eyes bore right into mine. I ignore the patter in my chest, likely from being this close to a killer. Without taking his eyes off me, he tilts his head to the drawer on his side. “Burn-sporin is in the drawer.”

A smirk comes across my face as I reach for it, realizing this muscled man, this killer, needs someone to treat his burn. And there’s a sense of pride that comes when I realize I’m the one who gets to do it. “Want me to kiss it?”

“Would rather your mouth elsewhere.” He’s quick with his words like he’s thought about it. And that makes the knot in my stomach tighten. His pecs glisten under the light when I apply a small dab to his wrist. My eyes settle on them before dropping to his abs. It reminds me of the sheer pounds that were on Nick yesterday.

“Thank you.” Glancing up, he cocks a brow. “Not for that comment. For yesterday. And for getting me out of the cellar. I’m assuming you talked to Dom?”

“Should thank you.” He turns to the stove. “I was off my game, running on emotion. Won’t happen again.”

Emotion?

That brings me to my next question. “What did you do with Nicholas?”

“Who’s asking?” Lev’s voice comes from behind me, the bass of it vibrating through my neck.

Turning around, his face is so close to mine I can smell the mint on his breath.

When did he get there?

“Me," I respond, “I’m asking.”

“You have a thing for him?” Lev twirls me around. His uniform shirt hanging open reveals his carved muscles. Vlad continues cooking as Lev holds out his other hand and when my brows furrow, he grabs mine anyway. A swirl of heat flows through me as he twirls me to the music. “We wouldn’t let that happen, M&M." It’s hard not to move along with the way he sways to the beat. When he pulls me against his chest, his hard pecs against me, I lose my words. “Would you have really killed for us?”

Vlad looks over his shoulder, muttering something before Lev bumps into his brother.

Clack!

Vlad drops the pan on the burner. “I’m trying to eat.”

“I’m trying to dance,” Lev retorts.

Vlad turns around, folding his arms. “Ain’t nothing to dance about. Now if you two don’t mind—the fuck.” His arms go to his side as Lev pushes me onto his brother, pinning him against the stove. Pinning me between them. Two powerful bodies. All muscles. “Get off me.”

“Join in, Vlad,” Lev says. “This is your old man shit, after all.”

Pressing his body against mine, Lev pushes me harder into his brother. Something twitches behind me. Something jerks in front of me. I’ve been in this position before, but this time it feels warm. Lighthearted.

My heart pounds between them, Lev’s hands moving to my waist before I shake my head. “Maybe we shouldn't—”

“The fuck are you three doing?”

Everyone stops, and so does the music when Dom’s voice cuts through the room.

Chapter Nineteen

With a hard shove, Vlad pushes me off him.

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