Page 127 of Property of Chaos

“Good.”Don’t fuck it up.I lift my right hand, set my thumb to the tip of her nose, and stroke upward in a line to the middle of her forehead.

She sighs.

I repeat the action several times before using both hands to trace my thumbs along her cheekbones, from beside her nose to her ear. Again, Vanessa sighs, indicating that her parasympathetic system has taken over.

Yeah. I know a lot of shit that surprises people, given how I look at face value.

Her elbows nestle further into the bed, and her shoulders relax as I continue to gently massage her face, working my way outward with each stroke until, eventually, I relax her neck, pushing the tension out of her shoulders and down her arms.

I rest my palm beside hers, over her heart, and count the beats. “Feel better?”

She takes a moment to answer. Perhaps reluctant to break the spell. “Yeah. Thank you.”

She’s so incredible.So beautiful. And so mine.

I lean down, muscles aching in protest, and place my lips over hers, kissing her lightly. “You aren’t alone today.” I kiss her nose. “You’ve got me.” Between her eyebrows. “Your aunt.” Her forehead. “And my brothers.” I sit tall, cupping the sides of her face with my hands and running my fingertips from her jaw around the back of her head. “Nothing, and nobody will hurt you as long as I’ve got anything to do with it.”

FORTY-THREE

VANESSA

My pulse throbsagainst the connection of Chaos’s hand entwined with mine. I dig into my memories and focus on the good shit—on the calm created by the soothing feel of his hands on me a few hours ago—as we step inside the waiting room outside the lawyer’s office.You can do this.The ache in my chest makes me not so sure.I feel like I’m dying.

“Breathe, baby.” He places a kiss on the top of my head as his brothers spread out around the room.

Circus takes up residence on the arm of a chair, much to the disgust of Abraham’s lackey, who currently occupies the seat. Crow positions himself against the wall, broad shoulders against the timber panels as he studies two suits who hold a hushed conversation opposite him. No doubt Abraham’s, too.

Highway squeezes my shoulder as he passes by, settling with his elbows on the personal assistant’s desk, leaning down to sweet talk the middle-aged woman.

My stepfather is nowhere to be seen. He's in the office already, I guess, prepping his puppet.

“Well,” Evelyn remarks, lacing her hands at her stomach. “This is cozy.”

One of the chatting minions snaps his balding head around at her remark, eyes narrowed, and nose crinkled. He holds a hand up to his colleagues as though to say, “I got this,” and walks boldly over to the PA.

The whole fucking room watches in rapt silence.

My heartbeat thunders in my ears.

As though sensing the unease, Chaos slides his arm around the front of my shoulders, pulling me against him.

“Excuse me,” the minion states loudly as he approaches Highway’s side. “Could you ask this riff-raff to kindly leave?”

Highway leans back, twisting his torso to face the guy. “Too chicken shit to do it yourself?”

The suit holds that fucking palm out again, this time in the biker’s face. “I wasn’t speaking with you.”

With a pointed finger, Highway delicately sets it against the side of the man’s wrist and pushes his arm away. “Yeah, but I was sure talking to you.”

“That’ll do.” Chaos can barely disguise the amusement in his tone.

I lift my hands to his thick arm, the sensation of his firm muscles enough to provide a sense of ease.

Evelyn sighs, lifting a complimentary magazine, only to toss it down again when she realizes it’s some stock market shit.

The door to the lawyer’s office opens.

I swallow, blinking slowly as a wave of panic leaves my head spinning.

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