Page 14 of Revenge On Her Dad's Best Friends

Chapter Thirteen

From the corner of her eye, Calista saw Zachariah pick up the paper clip they’d used to free themselves. She ignored him and carried on believing she had the power... until she didn’t have the power anymore.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said haughtily. “Go ahead, release me from this,” she said, jerking at the metal handcuffs on her wrist. “But you will have to carry me out. I’m not moving a single inch. Also, you can bet your entire fortune that I’ll find a way back here. It’s never going to be over between us. You cannot get rid of me, so snack on that for a bit.” Not giving them a chance to reply, she carried on. She had a damn lot more to say, and they were going to listen to her.

“I thought this was my final goodbye to you. Au revoir. Adieu. Arrivederci. Sayonara. Adiós suckers, but no. You were my dad’s best friends. And I want you to be in my life, so get used to it,” she continued, full steam.

“Bradford, you have a scar on the left side of your chest from when you got into a fight defending my dad against a bunch of bullies. You were ten years old. They were sixteen.

“Reece, when you were thirteen, you knocked out a teacher for picking on my dad. You got expelled. And Zachariah, you brokeyour foster parents’ nose when he accused my dad of stealing something he didn’t.”

“You loved him. I’m his daughter. I’m a good person. Why is it so hard for you to even like me... just a little? Am I repulsive? Am I not pretty enough? Smart enough? What is it about me? If it’s a good enough reason, I might consider leaving you alone for good. Do I smell? Because I know I don’t. Everyone tells me I smell the best. So what is it? Am I—”

Whatever else she meant to say withered down on her tongue at the sight of Reece standing at the table on which she’d left the briefcase that contained their birthday present from Lady Night. In between the short blitzes of her thoughts when she wasn’t thinking about them, not directly at least, she was thinking about what lay inside the briefcase. She hadn’t given into the curiosity of opening the envelope taped to the front of the case to read its contents, which was something for her.

Reece opened the envelope; his beautiful eyes skimmed the sheet of paper he’d withdrawn before he passed it to Bradford so he and Zachariah could read it too.

Their gazes whipped from her to the letter Lady Night had clearly written them.

A deafening silence ensued and made her restless, their stillness cast a thick, dark veil of god knew what around her. Perched on the desk, one wrist handcuffed to a pillar, the key still between her thighs—too close to her pulsing center—she dared to take a closer look at them.

Soundless conversations happened between them.

This was bad. This was worse than bad. She swallowed uncomfortably.

“Fuck,” Zachariah growled with such voracious power, he startled her. Bradford ran his hand through his short hair, and Reece reread the letter.

Hmm… What was happening?

She opened her mouth to ask the question and closed it as a frown settled on her face when Bradford, Reece, and Zachariah turned around and exited the bedroom without saying another word.

I’m sorry, what?

"Umm, that tactic doesn’t scare me, you know,” she called after them. “I’m not going to give up, release myself from this pillar, and go home.” She raised her voice the further she assumed they were getting from her. “I can last all night... unless I need to pee, but I’m good for a few more hours, so don’t go holding your breath or anything,” she shouted.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. What if they just walked right out of the penthouse and never came back? She lifted herself up and resettled. Maybe she should have grabbed a cushion for her bottom before she got onto the desk.

Arg.

“Hello,” she yelled. “You can’t ignore me forever. I’m not going anywhere.” Only silence answered her back.

Why were they so hardheaded? How was she two clowns short of what was meant to be a smooth, sleek, femme fatale vengeance extravaganza turn into a circus?

She lost count of the time. Either a minute had passed, or ten minutes had passed, but her heart flew out of her chest when they reentered the battle zone.

She couldn’t catch her breath as her gaze raked over them. They looked different. Not only because they’d rolled up the sleeves and loosened an extra button of their shirts. Their hair seemed as if they’d dragged their fingers through it too hard and too many times, but their whole aura had changed. Their stoicism was gone and replaced with something Calista could not immediately identify. They seemed... dangerous, more volatile.

She couldn’t keep track of her thoughts and her surroundings at the same time. They were coming toward her, and instantly she realized she was no longer the stalking predator, and they were her prey. They were now the predators and she, the prey.

A mixture of panic, fear, and curiosity swirled around the cells in her body.

The heat that now had a hold of her was nothing compared to how she’d felt cooking inside the catsuit. This kind of fire amplified the way they were looking at her.

Bradford. Reece. Zachariah.

Like sleek panthers, godlike in the way they moved, dark, powerful, and lethal, they closed the gap between them.

Her nipples peaked painfully, sending a myriad of sensations to her clit, which now throbbed with a need she didn’t recognize. Was she going crazy?

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