Page 159 of Fallen Omega

And I know, no matter what happens in my life after this, my time with the Unholy Trinity, which has to be coming to an end, will remain the epoch of everything.

I roll over and I’m rewarded with something that pierces heart and soul.

His naked smile.

“Next time,” he says, stroking my cheek, “I’m taking your cunt.”

I hope there’s a next time with Reaper because I get the feeling, even if I wanted to stay, that decision is Dante’s, and he…he doesn’t like me.

At all.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Dante

“You wanted me?”

Angel stands there in front of me in my office, a vision. Sullied, the way she should be.

She doesn’t need fucking bites for me to know she’s been taken. Not just by Knight, who got her virginity, but also by Reaper.

Knight doesn’t bother to hide it.

She can’t, either. She wears everything on her sleeve, including her longing for and loathing of me, things that turn me the fuck on. The filthy, disgusting things I want to do to her that’ll have her crawling back for more are depraved and divine. But I’m not going to.

And fucking Reaper… the only reason I know he touched her, had sex with her, is because of her. She looks at him like he’s her personal savior, like she wants to nurture his soul by fucking him senseless. I’ve seen the look before.

I’d dismiss it, but there’s a depth to the expression, like maybe shecansee into him.

We’re meant to work on finding out how to rid herof the fucking mark or turn it to our advantage, and yes, we’re also trying to find out why the Council is so interested in this particular omega.

There are others.

So, why her?

Beyond her evident attributes.

And obviously, we want to know what the fuck Ghost has to do with any of this.

“Dante?”

I flick my gaze at her. She’s so fucking gorgeous. All that dark hair, those big eyes, perfect lips, banging fucking body. And she doesn’t even know it.

It’s a powerful mix.

Add in that angelic voice…

She’s a commodity.

A potent one.

And while she’s here, I want her to earn money, for us. For her. A win-win, as they say.

I stand by her obeying us—me—or she’s out. She knows we’ll protect her. I’m just going to pull her fucking strings.

Up on the stage is perfect. Patrons can look at her, but they can’t touch. They’ll want to.