Page 29 of Heirs of Havoc

Don't trust it.

But do I have a choice? “No.”

“Excuse me?” Oops. McQueen’s brows knit. “By all means, Miss Marshall, you can go elsewhere if you don’t like the offer. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Rising from the car, my gaze stays on the mansion. I'll admit, it's massive, a pristine stone path leading to the large black door. Large glass windows look inviting, but the tall black spire to the side doesn't. Even the darkening clouds tell me to stay away.

“Go on, Miss Marshall.” The annoyance in McQueen’s voice rises again and I have two options.

One, go back to Forest Hill with my father and play the role of a mafia doll.

Or two, take the offer the Dean’s giving me and keep my freedom. What's left of it.

Thanking McQueen, he hands me my bags before I head for the door.

"It's open!" he calls. "Your keys are inside."

While I'll miss Chaya, this is a turn of events I didn't expect. Black roses line my path, my arms getting colder the closer I get. A metal knocker with the head of a snake greets me, my hand reaching for it.

This doesn’t have to be so bad. At least here I’ll be far from William. Well, far enough.

When I reach for the knocker again, the door swings open.

"Wh-" A broad chiselled chest greets me, that scar across the heart.

My eyes meet that diamond gaze and …

Oh, hell no.

Stumbling back, my bags drop from my grip to the stone path. His wide mouth turns into a grin.

Run.

Glancing back at the driveway, McQueen left a trail of dust, his car gone.

Shit.

When I turn back, he's so much closer than he was before.

My shoulders rise to my ears, his nose almost touching mine.

Heat comes off his skin as those wolfish eyes peer into my head.

My body grows so stiff I can’t move as a chuckle fills my ears.

“Mia Mouse, Mia Mouse, look who's in the Federov house."

Chapter Twelve

Dominik’s chiselled, square face comes into view. One with an angular jaw, a chin pointed like the devil, and he grins like the fallen angel too.

Say something.

Anything!

“Last time I checked.” Steadying my voice, I’m trying hard to avoid his tatted abs under that open leather jacket. But it’s hard to ignore the large crown and dagger tattoo pointing right at his royal staff. “It's Murphy House. Not yours, but you like staking a claim on things that don’t belong to you, don’t you?” Shit. The tension between us must be as high as Feliks because my attitude proves hard to contain.

His grin grows like he’s actually amused. “What’s theirs is mine, but you already know that, don’t you?” My back hits the frame of the front door before he slams his hands on either side of my head. I jump. Like a freaking coward.

---