Page 99 of Vegas Daddies

“I don’t have to answer you,” Brander says calmly.

“Is that so?”

Brander stares the attacker down.

He doesn’t budge.

Until he does.

Toward Alice.

Suddenly the Dolce shades aren’t as funny when he presses the length of his knife to her neck. He grips the handle. Edges his face closer. “Death is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

I tense my jaw.

“That is, until it comes to someone you love.” He eyes Match. “Isn’t that right, Grandpa? Fair play, I must say, for marrying a girl half your age. I hope we can all take a page out of your book.It’s pretty impressive. Unfortunately for you”—he teases the knife closer—“you’re gonna have to find yourself another chick, but it’s not gonna be easy. There’s not many girls out there like Alice.”

I reach into Brander’s pocket and retrieve the pregnancy test.

Then I throw it toward the bastard. “Here. You can let go now.”

And fucking hell, he does. Not just from Alice. From reality completely.

The guy crashes into the wall, hands shaking as he directs his face to the test. Can he even see properly with the shades on? Looks like it, judging from the sharp breaths and the shocked “You’re pregnant?!” that exits his mouth.

His head turns to Alice.

She doesn’t reply. Instead she steps forward and rips the balaclava from his head.

Attagirl.

“Oh my god.”

That’s not the kind of response I expected from her.

Match, Brander, and I eye one another.

Her eyes soften into something that concerns me. They look at him familiarly, like they have history. Good history, because enemies don’t look at one another with dilating pupils, holding their breaths.

“Levi?”

Her face crumbles into an expression I’ve never seen her pull before. Anger pulls at the corner of her lips. They open. Press together. Open again.

I suppose speechlessness in this situation is normal. What are you supposed to say to a cheating ex-lover who has tried to kidnap you multiple times? Curse words don’t cut it, but if she wants me to beat his ass, for Match to pull the trigger, or for Brander to scald his face until it turns even uglier, all she has to do is say the word.

I expect Alice to slap the guy, but she instead breaks out into a belly laugh. Then she’s bending down to pick up the Dolce glasses, examining them in her hands.

“Seriously? The Bratva?” she asks Levi.

“Seriously?” he retorts. “This guy?” He gestures at Match.

“Actually”—she steps forward—“it isn’t just Match.” Her eyes turn to me and Brandy.

Levi scoffs, realization catching up with him. “You married all three? They’re ancient.”

“And somehow a much better fuck than you ever were.”

Mic drop.

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