Page 48 of Hot Chocolate & Hitmen

“Merry Christmas, Jason,” Key says with a smirk, tossing a handful of shiny tinsel over my restrained, trembling body. “I hope you liked your presents.”

The three of them walk away, their laughter echoing through the house as I sit there, shattered and humiliated. The soundof Michael Bublé's rendition ofHolly Jolly Christmasringing around the room as the fire crackles away in the hearth and the snow continues to fall outside; the room remaining cozy and calm, like the whole thing was just a dream.

Yet, my new tattoos throb with every shallow breath I take, and the brands sting worse with each twitch of my muscles. The smell of burnt skin lingers in the air, acting a cruel reminder of my past mistakes.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year. Now I don’t know if there will be snow, but have a cup of cheer…”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so sorry in my life.

Chapter Twenty

Isink deeper into the bath, the heat of the water lapping at my skin, trying to soothe the tension that lingers in my bones. My muscles ache from the exhaustion of everything that’s happened recently, but it’s not just physical. The emotional turmoil Jason dragged into my life refuses to let me fully relax. It’s like a persistent shadow clinging to me, despite the fact that I’ve been wrapped in the safety of these men who’ve become my protectors, my lovers...and maybe something more.

I stare at the ceiling, the sound of water gently splashing adds to the soothing Christmas music Key set to play before he left. The chaos of last night still feels surreal. I thought coming here with Jason would be a fresh start, that we could somehow fix the broken pieces between us, but it’s clear now how naive I was. He didn’t come here to heal us. He came to break me completely.

And it almost worked.

I swallow the lump in my throat, staring at the steam rising from the water. It’s not just Jason’s betrayal that hurts, it’s the fact that for so long, I let him have that power over me. I was always the one bending, compromising, hoping he’d finally notice the cracks in our relationship. But he never did, and Ispent too long waiting for him to care. Now? It’s like I’m finally seeing him for the weak, controlling person he really is, and that’s terrifying and liberating all at once.

I only need to see the mess of the mirror to remind myself just how far he’s pushed me from who I was before him. I am going to spend a shit ton in cleaning and repair fees on this rental. And that’s not even to mention the part that mybest friendplayed in this entire thing. But I can’t even begin to wrap my head around that right now.

There’s a knock at the bathroom door, pulling me from my thoughts. Before I can respond, the door cracks open and Atlas’s towering frame fills the doorway. His stern expression softens when our eyes meet, but there’s still a command there. Something primal and protective creeps into his gaze as his eyes rake over my naked body.

“You’ve been in here long enough,” he says gently, though his tone leaves no room for argument.

I sit up in the tub, the sight of him standing there with a towel draped over one massive arm making my heart stutter. He strides forward, kneeling beside the tub, and I can feel the weight of his concern.

“I’mfine, Atlas.” I mutter, if a bit petulantly. I’m not used to being the one who’s cared for, I’m usually doing all the caring. It’s weird.

“Your ankle isn’t fine,” he counters, reaching down to trace a calloused thumb over my leg. “And I’m not letting you overdo it. You need rest.”

“Alright, fine,” I relent, holding my arms out to him. “But don’t get any ideas about carrying me everywhere, I can walk.”

He smirks, effortlessly pulling me from the water like I weigh nothing. “We’ll see about that.”

As soon as I’m wrapped in the towel, he lifts me into his arms, and there’s something so comforting about it. For so long,I thought I had to be strong on my own, but now, I’m starting to realize it’s okay to lean on someone else. Maybe even three someones.

Atlas carries me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, gently setting me on the bed as he picks a soft, fuzzy set of shorts and crop top pajamas from the closet. They’re a deep, velvety blue with sparkly snowflakes patterned over them. It even has a matching fuzzy robe, that I may or may not rub my face into a few times before I’m once more swept into Atlas’ massive hold.

I don’t even bother arguing about it this time. I kinda want to stay here. I also don’t plan on telling him that the throbbing in my ankle is completely gone and that it’s perfectly fine now.

I’m totally ending up on Santa’s naughty list this year.

As we enter the kitchen, Atlas places me on the island countertop and I see Key and Teddy bustling around the space cooking breakfast.

My heart swells, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper curling in my chest. I’ve only known these men for a short time, but they’ve already done more to make me feel cared for and safe than Jason ever did in all our years together. That realization hits me like a tidal wave.

I’m falling for them. Hard.

The thought terrifies and excites me in equal measure. This isn’t just about sex or the thrill of being caught up in the chaos. It’s more than that. It’s the way they look at me, the way they protect me, even when I don’t think I need it. It’s the way they make me laugh, feel seen, feel cared for. Like they’re not just here for the fun of it; they’re here for me.

“Earth to Sugar!” Key waves a hand in front of my face, cutting off my inner monologue with a grin. His other hand is balancing a plate piled high with breakfast foods.

“Time to eat up,” Key grins, setting the plate on my lap. “We’ve got to get down to business.” He’s already rolling up hissleeves, cracking his knuckles like he’s about to embark on some epic battle.

I raise an eyebrow from my perch at the kitchen island, watching as he dramatically pulls out a mixing bowl and slams it onto the counter. "And what business would that be, exactly?" I ask, trying to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of my lips. Key’s always got something up his sleeve, but today, his energy feels particularly chaotic.

“Christmas cookie domination, of course,” he says, throwing me a wink as he grabs a handful of flour. “We’re having a bake-off, and I’m taking home the gold. Or should I say...the Sugar?”

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