Page 100 of Vegas Daddies

I stifle a laugh.

“I can’t believe you married three men twice your age, Alice.”

“And I can’t believe you fucked another woman up against the wall,” she says.

“It was a mistake.”

“Let me guess. Your dick deceived you? You saw tits bigger than mine and had to act because you have zero fucking self-restraint?” She throws the sunglasses to the floor and crushes them, shattered pieces of glass spreading across the marble floor. “See this as a favor, by the way. You look bad, but a little less terrible without these on your face.” She inches closer. “I see now why you’re wearing them, though. How much sleep did you get last night? Lastyear,even? You call Match Grandpa but you look older than him.”

She’s not wrong. Black circles ring around his eyes. It looks like somebody has punched him, but not quite, because there’s no sign of swelling or bruising.

The same can’t be said for his nose—a bandage wraps around it. Patients at the hospital have looked in better condition. Either the bastard’s recovering from a cosmetic nose surgery—which he probably needs if his nose is anything close to the size of his ears—or he’s been punched. Hard.

She folds her arms over her chest. She tries to hide it, but she’s upset. She clenches her jaw to stop it from quivering. “How long have you been working with the Bratva, then?”

“For,” I correct. “There is no with.”

“Indeed,” Brander says. “The Russians don’t work in collaboration. Recruits think they’re in partnership, but they’re not at all. They’repawns.” He stares at Levi. “Spare parts, at that.”

I wouldn’t put the guy at a day older than thirty. Despite the blemished skin and severely tired eyes, Levi’s skin still looks youthful. Fine lines started developing on my face when I was twenty-three, one year after signing with the Venom Vultures,because unlike Bratva bastards,weactually dare to show our faces. None of us have owned masks. Not even Bane—the dude with scars plastered across his face—has ever once hid his identity.

The Venom Vultures’ HQ is the desert.

These guys play in the shadows.

Levi shuts his eyes and exhales a breath like he feels sorry for himself.

“Tough day in the office?” I ask.

That gets a laugh from the other two.

Alice manages a smirk.

“Look, you have to let me explain,” Levi says.

Alice hitches her crossed arms further up her chest. “You expect us to believe you?”

“I saved you, Alice,” he says. “I was the one that got you out of the hotel room.”

“Mysavior,”she falsettos. “Is it time for me to bend the knee, curtsy and owe you my life?” The amusement fades. “You threw me into a strip club. How is that saving?”

“I couldn’t go against Vlad’s request.”

I knew he was Vlad’s little pet.

“Why not?” Alice says. “What are you trying to achieve?”

The bastard runs a hand through his brown hair. Deep fryers have held less fucking grease than his mop-looking hair.

Levi exhales another breath and focuses his eyes on Alice. “Let me explain.”

Alice doesn’t bite back this time. Instead she gestures him further into the house he probably knows better than the back of his hand from visiting when they were together.

The whole ordeal makes my skin crawl.

Alice hadn’t been with another man before us.

Shouldn’t haveeverbeen with another man.

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