Page 63 of Heirs of Havoc

Dominik’s voice rips through Feliks’ room. I can hear the bass erupting from the other side of his bathroom door.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Water drips down my body onto the black tile floor, a black towel pulled tight around me.

“Who?” That’s Feliks, but his answer isn’t very convincing.

“The fucking Tooth Fairy, Ivankov, you know who.” As expected, Dom’s not convinced.

“Ohhh, Mia.” Feliks sounds as unbothered as always, even sarcastic.

“She’s not in the cellar. Not with the twins either.” There’s anger in Dom’s voice, but there’s also a hint of something else. Worry? “Did you let her leave?”

“Now, why would I do that?”

“Stop fucking around, Ivankov.” Dom’s voice hardens.

CRASH!

"Man …” Annoyance comes with Feliks’ drawl. “That's my favourite Fender." My shoulders fall hearing Feliks trying to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Ask me if I give a fuck? Ask me if I won’t break another if you don’t tell me where she is.”

Shit. I don’t want the guys fighting any more than they already have. Not over me.

So with a deep breath, I kick open the bathroom door. “Looking for me, Federov?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dom stalls and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like the dumbfounded look on his face.

I really do. So much it makes me smirk.

Dom’s eyes travel down my body then back up to my wet hair. His gaze shifts to Feliks, sitting on his bed with his guitar in nothing but his boxers. What happened between us last night spilled into this morning and it’s clear with how messy his bed is.

Dom tilts his head to the side. “What is this?”

I open my mouth to answer, but Feliks’ voice comes first. “Didn’t think you wanted her going to school like an actual hostage.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Federov.” Keeping my voice sweet, Dom watches the towel slip below my tits. “Feliks took great care of me. Didn’t you, Feliks?”

Feliks is slow to turn his head towards me, but those golden orbs tell me to shut up. If the gears are turning in Dom’s head, he doesn’t show it. “Hurry up and get out,” Feliks says and hell if his words don’t hurt after the moments we shared.

My mouth twists. “That’s not at all what you were saying this morning.”

Dom’s eyes switch between us.

“Well, I’m saying it now, Mia.” No Bunny. No nickname. Prick.

Before I can answer, something soft hits my chest. Hard. A bundle of clothes. “You’re wearing those to class,” Dom says.

Unravelling the clothes in my hand reveals a pair of baggy beige slacks, like the ones the boys wear at school. He’s trying to control me again. While telling me what to wear isn’t exactly locking me in a cellar, I’m tired of it. “Girls at SAA wear kilts.”

“A whore like you gets pants.” Dom crosses his arms, his eyes on my tits. Moving my glare to Feliks, I silently beg for his help. Dom notices. “Feliks, you want to jump in?”

“I’m good.” Feliks looks down at his broken guitar, snapped in two, leaving me to Dom’s demands.

“Yeah, you were great earlier.” My towel drops some more. “And you?” I point at Dom. “You don’t get to dictate what I wear, or do. Where I shower, or where I sleep.”

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