Page 15 of All We Want

Scarlette allows Aiden's whispered words to ripple through her, a momentary distraction before she refocuses on the task at hand. As he straightens, she fixes her gaze on me, a challenge brewing in her eyes.

"Let's not dance around it," she states, her voice steady. "Get the business part over with, so we can all move on to whatever it is you have planned."

Ro, with a lingering smirk, nods in agreement. "Straight to da point, I like dat," he comments.

Moving to sit across from each other, the tension returns. Scarlette's demeanor shifts subtly, becoming more guarded.

Leaning forward, I fix my gaze on her. "Da name of da buyer. I wanna know who be comin after us."

Her eyes narrow, and a flicker of annoyance crosses her features. "You think I'd just hand that over?" she retorts, a hint of defiance in her voice.

"Yes, a stór," I reply, my tone unyielding. "It's non-negotiable."

"If that's all you're after," she says, standing abruptly, "then I'm done here." Her heels click sharply against the floor as she moves toward the elevator, determination in every step.

Before she can press the button, I call out to her. "You really think we'd simply let ya walk out, gadaí beag?"

She scoffs, dismissing my words, and presses the elevator button confidently. The doors open, but to her surprise, the elevator doesn't respond to her command. A flicker of frustration passes over her face as she tries again, but the elevator remains uncooperative.

I stand, a grin on my face. "We knew ya wouldn't jus’ hand it over. But did ya really think we'd make it dat easy for ya to walk away?”

Chapter 12

Scarlette

Scowling, I press the button yet again with still no response. I glare at it as though it's personally responsible for keeping me here, even though I know that they have done something to stop it from working.

Turning my glare back in the direction of the men, I shouldn’t be surprised to find a gun aimed in my direction. Or that Ronan is the one holding it.

And he hasn’t lost the smirk since I arrived, like all he can imagine while looking at me is when he shoved his fingers into my mouth covered in his cum.

“This feels like deja vu, binneas.” He motions with both his fingers and the gun for me to step back off the elevator.

At this point, I’m filled with more fury than common sense, walking right up to him until the gun is pressed between my breasts. A look crosses his face that I can’t decipher, and his smirk stretches further.

He drags the barrel down my skin slowly and provocatively, sending a shiver down my spine. “Ya love my gun don’t ya, binneas," he taunts. "Keep spittin’ dat fire at me, and I jus’ might fuck ya with it.”

Before I can retort, another presence makes itself known. Declan steps forward and his hand wraps around my throat with a possessive grip, his voice a low growl in my ear. "Stop flirtin with danger, a stór. He really would fuck you wid that gun. But as we said, business before pleasure.”

Declan's grip on my throat tightens, forcing me back with an assertive strength. The smirk on Ronan's face lingers as if he's enjoying the show. My fury simmers beneath the surface, but I comply, allowing Declan to maneuver me back to a chair. With a forceful shove, he sends me sprawling into it.

I shoot a defiant look at all of them. Declan leans down, his voice a low rumble. "Seems ya forgetten exactly who ya dealin with, Scarlette. Remember, we play by our rules."

I shoot him a venomous glare, the frustration of being cornered boiling within me. The chair creaks beneath me as I shift, attempting to regain some semblance of control. Ronan's gun remains a threatening presence, but also at the back of my mind it serves as a reminder of what I had done with that gun aimed at me previously.

Declan straightens, his expression unreadable. "Now, let's get back to the point. Who's ya buyer?"

I continue to glare at him and remain silent.

Declan's gaze narrows, and from his jacket, he produces a gleaming knife, the blade catching the ambient light. He twirls it skillfully between his fingers, the steel flashing dangerously. "Do we really need to use this to get da information we want?" he asks, the threat implicit.

I lean back in the chair, my lips curling into a sardonic smile. "A knife, Declan? That really isn't the threat you think it is."

He leans in, the sharp edge of the knife hovering dangerously close to my skin. "Ya don’t think I will use dis, Scarlette?"

I chuckle, the sound echoing through the room. "Oh, I hope you do. But a knife won't make me spill what you want to know." I lean forward, closer to the knife in his hand, until I’m sure he can feel my breath on his skin. “It might make me cum though if you use it right.”

Declan shudders, and I can almost see his tight control breaking before my eyes, but suddenly he's wrenched away from me as Aiden shoves him in the direction of the bar.

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