Page 62 of Claimed By Rage

“Shut up,” Rage roars, jamming the barrel of a Glock under Thanatos’s chin. “Shut up,shut up!You have no idea what anyof us have been through, becauseyouleft! Five years, Thanatos! Who do you think kept Rebel from snorting himself into an early grave? And Ruin—he needs an outlet for all the fucked-up shit he’s been through, so who do you think gave him one? Because it sure as shit wasn’t our older brother. Off chasing ghosts—” He growls, cocking the gun back. “There’s nothing out there but shadows, Than, because we killed our demons. Don’t go looking for them here, too.”

My heart races. I don’t really like the guy at this point, but Thanatos is Rage’sbrother.“You can’t kill him,” I stammer. “Rage, that’s your—he’sfamily.”

“Family doesn’t walk away,” Rage retorts, glaring. “But maybe ahalf-brother does. God, you sound just like Dad. He pulled the same bullshit, and look how that ended up.” Rage shakes his head. “That grudge you’ve got, Than, it’s real fucking ugly. It’ll get someone killed.” He lowers the gun and shoves it into his waistband behind his back. Then he pulls his arm back and swings, connecting with Thanatos’s jaw with a sickeningcrack.

I stumble backward, expecting a fight, but Thanatos spits blood onto the carpet and grunts. He doesn’t move to return the punch. “Get out.”

Rage stands between me and Thanatos while I zip up my boots and grab my purse. I’ve lost my bra again, so I’ll have to leave without it. The cold is gonna be abitchwhen the sun goes down. Thankfully, neither of them speaks to me as I grab Rage’s hand and pull him toward the door. Rage doesn’t look at me until we’re two blocks away, his own anger still simmering just beneath the skin. He takes a steady breath before grasping both of my hands in his.

“Are you okay?” he asks, searching my face, then my body, like he’s expecting to find bruises. “I didn’t know he would show up. I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “What was that about?”

“Thanatos?” Rage pulls a face. “He’s got issues like the rest of us.”

“No, I mean—” I take a breath. “How does he know those things about me?” The divorce, sure, that’s common knowledge at this point. But my dad? That wasyearsago. The official story is that he committed suicide, but I suspect that it was an inside job. Someone within the bratva took him out.

It’s the way all criminals die, in the end. Backstabbed by one of their own.

A shiver rolls down my spine, making my teeth chatter. I don’t like to think about my father, because he’s a reminder of everything that’s wrong with the world.Myworld. I left the bratva because a good man died for someone else’s sins. My brother and I lost our father, my mother lost her husband, and for what?

Money?

Shaking my head, I try to clear the oncoming headache before it starts. “The bratva, I—” I wince. “I know they were upset when Valentina left the city, but I stayed. I’m still here.”

Rage clenches and unclenches his jaw for a moment. “You married an outsider.” It’s a fact, not an accusation, but it still sounds like one. “You only got away with it because your dad was already dead. If I were Mikhail—” he grips my chin, pushing his thumb against my lips, “—I would have married you off to some rich, eligiblevorthe moment your ex dared put a ring on your finger. Because, Celia, youbelongin the bratva. You belong withme.”

“If he married me off, I wouldn’t be yours right now.”

Smiling, Rage slants his lips over mine, humming into our kiss. “Trust me, mama,nothingwould stop me from takingthis.” He grabs my ass and spins us around, pressing me against the cool metal of his car. “You’re just as mine now as you would bewith another man’s ring on your finger. Which there wouldn’t be, because I’d kill him before he could ever get to you. The only reason it took me this long,” he murmurs, slipping his hand beneath my skirt and palming my ass, “is because I didn’t realize how perfect you were for me yet. That came later.” He brushes his lips over mine with a sigh. “I’m only sorry it took me so long.”

A question wriggles in the back of my mind. I’ve asked it before, and now I have even more unanswered questions about all three brothers.Four, if I include Thanatos, which it seems like I have to now. They fight for attention, each question needing answered, but I stick to the most pressing for now. “Rage…”

He kisses me, slow and sweet, despite the hand curving between my thighs to feel the cum leaking around my panties. “Yes?”

“When did we first meet? Did I know you back when…” I think to what Thanatos said earlier. “…things were different for you and your brothers?” If what Thanatos said is true, they’ve had a tougher life than I’d realized. The image of Rage’s bare chest flashes through my mind, the mottled skin pink and raised, and I wonder what happened to him. I wonder what happened toallof them.

“You meanharder, not different,” Rage muses, grabbing the thick flesh of my thigh. His palm skates up and down my skin, teasing me. “Maybe we knew each other back then. It’s difficult to know for sure. I kept my focus on our family once things went—” he scrunches up his face, like there’s a bad taste in his mouth—“south.” He nips my bottom lip. “But things aremuchbetter now.”

“So we met atMidnight,” I try to clarify, grabbing Rage’s wrist to keep his hand from wandering. “Right?”

He groans, mouthing my jawline. “What does it matter? The past doesn’t change anything.”

“Why are you avoiding the question?”

Lifting his eyes to mine, he presses his lips into a thin line. “Because you won’t like the answer. Let it go, Celia.”

Now I’m remembering why I find this man so infuriating. I slide my fingers into his hair and pull, tearing his face away from mine and enjoying the painted grunt he makes. “Rage,” I warn, “tell me the truth.Was it at my dad’s funeral? Before? Did you know me when I was in high school? College?” I run through the possibilities in my head, but that has to be too far back. “You didn’t know you wanted me until I was already married.”

Rage’s hands slide up my sweater, one palming my naked breast while the other closes around my throat. My sweater catches on his arm, exposing me to anyone who walks by. The cold winter air makes me shiver, my nipple pebbling between Rage’s fingers. He squeezes both of his hands, the smile on his face the cruelest I’ve seen all day. “Keep digging,krosotka, and you’ll only get hurt.”

“Why?” I swallow against his palm. “Did we meet each otherduringmy divorce? Did you know that I locked myself inside my house for months? That my husband was cheating on me?” Itsort offits, but I have a feeling that Rage would have broken my door down and forced his way inside my life sooner, had he known the extent of my depression. Still, I run with the idea. “That’s it, right? You didn’t come rescue me after my divorce. You’re afraid I’ll hold it against you.”

Rage stays silent, which prompts me to look harder. He never attended one of Ted and my house parties, so those years are off the list. I didn’t do much between the time my husband cheated and the divorce was finalized. I barely left the house, so that theory doesn’t work. The only thing that kept me busy in those months was my design work or my brother.

My breath catches on a sharp inhale.

Mikhail is part of the bratva—one of the captains, actually, in charge of projects involving real estate and finances. Rage, Rebel, and Ruin don’t work directly under him that I’m aware of, but somehow, our paths still crossed. We know each other because of my brother. Something he did? Somewhere I went? A party or a funeral or a?—

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