Page 51 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

ChapterTwenty-Seven

Ruby

Waking up after a long nap, I feel refreshed and loved. I want round two, but I feel that if I don’t show my face at Black Widows soon, I might as well pack up my mafia bag and head west. My men are all up and about already, so I take a leisurely shower and then put my game face on. Frowning at the floor where Declan placed the small box from under the bed, I see it’s been removed. I bend down to look and see that it’s back where it should be. I wonder what the purpose was of him bringing it out in the first place.

Dressed in a tight black dress and spiked heels, I add a black cashmere coat and feel elegant and sophisticated, something that has been sorely lacking since the day I killed Jake and got abducted by Boomer. Seeing Scarlet reminded me of a few things and being well-dressed was one of them.

Leaving my bedroom, with my oversized handbag and phone in either hand, my heels clack on the tile as I make my way into the sitting room.

“Check you out,” Ramsey says after he wolf whistles, being the first to see me.

I preen. “Like what you see?”

“Always.” He kisses the top of my head.

“Where’s David?”

“Here,” he says, entering the room from the kitchen, tea in hand.

I go to him and pull him down for a deep kiss. “We missed out earlier. How about a little nookie when we get to work?”

He laughs, his cheeks going a cute pink. “I always wanted to bend you over your desk and take you from behind,” he murmurs.

“Mmm,” I purr and then let him go, giving him something to think about on the ride in.

“Don’t be a fucking arsehole!”

I blink and raise an eyebrow at the yelling coming from the kitchen.

“What’s that about?”

David averts his eyes and purses his lips.

“David?” I snap.

“Erm, well…perhaps you should ask Layton about that?”

David ducks out of my way as I storm forward towards the kitchen, my stomach clenching into a knot. Something isn’t right here.

“Ruby, wait,” Ramsey calls out, following me.

I ignore him and marching into the kitchen, I see a very attractive, dark-haired woman standing in between Layton and Declan. The former who is livid and the latter who is absolutely apoplectic.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snarl to the bitch in my kitchen.

“Ruby,” Layton says calmly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“No? Because it looks like some cheap skank is standing in my kitchen with two of my lovers.”

“Ouch,” the skank mutters.

My gaze lasers into hers and she lowers her eyes in a very clear sign of submission. This isn’t just a woman, but a Submissive woman that has landed in my home out of the blue. Now, I’m not a dense woman. In fact, I think of myself as pretty smart and quick on my feet. So it doesn’t take me very long, a few seconds at most, to put two and two together and come up with her and Layton.

“She belong to you?” I ask, the ice in my tone practically creating icicles on the ceiling above our heads.

“No,” he says firmly. “It’s not what you think. She tracked me here.”

“Tracked you here? To my home? How?”

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