Page 108 of Heirs of Havoc

“Your entire family who didn’t give a shit about you.” And while I should regret telling Chaya everything she knows, I’m relieved to have an outsider’s perspective. “You’re not indebted to anyone. Ever. Do what your heart wants. Those boys have protected you way more than your father has. And if you’re asking me, he deserved to die.” Chaya’s taking me being a murderer way too well. She’s taking the guys way too well too.

“They bullied me, Chaya. And Dom—”

“You love him.” I choke on my drink, trying to catch my thoughts, but Chaya laughs. She settles into her seat, golden bikini to the sun. “Bingo.”

“No, Chaya, I’m choking on that bullshit.” I knock back my glass of champagne in one long gulp.

I don’t love Dominik Federov.

Not anymore.

“Well, you at least have an attraction to him. If not, you definitely have an attraction to the twins and Feliks.” Head to the sky, she opens an eye. “How does it work? Between you guys? Sharing? I don’t know if I could do it with a hottie, much less four.” My stomach twists at her words, remembering how well those three men like to play me. And just how well Dominik likes to play with me. “You already came at me hard for them, so I’m just saying, think about what you want. And when you’ve figured it out. You do that.”

“No one’s ever asked me that.” I blink out at the dazzling water. “Someone always dictates my life..” And now I’m shit at deciding.

“Didn’t Dom ask you that a couple of days ago?”

“Albeit in his own demanding, stupid way.”

Chaya shrugs. “And he went to get me and he organized all this. He cares more than you think, Mia. But that baggage? You need to unpack it so you can think a little more clearly.”

Groaning, I slump in my chair, but Chaya's spitting the truth.

If I’m going to make any more decisions, Dom and I need to talk. Really talk. He knows the workings of the mafia more than I do, and he’s been able to keep the Merlos and the Romanos away this long. Maybe he’s the one person I need to talk to about fixing everything. Maybe even fixing us.

Chaya’s question rolls through my mind as she signals for another drink, the server scurrying back.

How does this work?

To be honest, I don’t know how any of this is going to work, but I have to make a move. I need a conversation.

After this vacation.

* * *

Another few days of our vacation isn’t enough to clear my mind.

Copious amounts of alcohol and junk food only left me bloated and dehydrated. While Chaya and I had a blast, I couldn’t get the guys off my mind. The devil included.

I missed them. I missed our interesting dynamic and our borderline dysfunctional home. While we bicker, fight and smash things to the ground, at least they’re asking a question I’ve never asked myself.

What do I want?

After dropping Chaya off on campus, my mind wanders on the short car ride back to the Murphy House.

Now that I’m about to face Dom, and I mean really face Dom. I’m fucking nervous.

After tossing scenarios and outcomes to Chaya the entire ride back to Clementine, I think I know. No, I do. I know what I want. I just have to go get it.

Back at Murphy House, a deep breath leaves me when I walk up to the door and press the bell. My first night comes back to me. The moment Dom and I came face-to-face again. Right before he locked me in the cellar.

My head moves towards it, at the side of the house. He locked me in there to prove a point. To prove I’m his prisoner. But after what happened, after what I did, I hope he knows how wrong he was about me. Or about what I want.

No one comes to the door, so I ring it again, my mind spiralling.

What if I’m wrong?

What if this isn’t the right decision?

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