Page 2 of Goddess of Mayhem

He sighs.

“Motherfucker was talking shit about my big sister,” he says with a smile. “Had to put him in his place.”

“Should’ve let me do that.”

“Nah, I needed to burn off some steam.” He chuckles. “Only I get to treat you like shit. Plus, the look on Brenner’s face when he found out who you are was worth every second.”

I shift in my leather seat, my knuckles turning white with the tight grip I have on the wheel.

“You good?” Donovan’s face hardens with his question, his tone losing all amusement. “With Brenner, I mean. I know you…”

“You know nothing, Donovan,” I snap.

He throws his hands up in surrender when I shoot him a warning glance.

“Liam Brenner was a job—nothing more, nothing less,” I say firmly. “Drop it.”

With a dip of his chin, Donovan signals his understanding and shifts his focus out the window, no longer speaking the rest of the drive home. When we finally get home, I leave the guys to deal with Dad since this is Donovan’s mess to clean up.

I don’t stop until I reach my room, closing the door behind me with a slam and locking it. My eye catches on the dupe phone I used to communicate with Liam and Collins throughout my mission. I storm over and pick it up off my nightstand, planning to send my heel through the device. A notification lights up the screen, and I falter.

A missed text from Liam.

I battle with whether I should open it or not, and decide my masochism trumps sensibility. The time stamp reads six a.m. this morning.

LIAM:I can’t stop thinking about your lips wrapped around my cock, Little Warrior. I need to see you.

Little Warrior.

I read the message countless times, burning it into my brain before the emotions become too much to handle. Slamming the phone back onto my nightstand, I unsheathe my knife and pierce the screen with a devastating skewer.

Ihatehim.

I hate him for making me feel. I hate myself for being so goddamn weak.

I need to get the hell out of here. Only one person could level my head right now.

Lion Castello.

One

Malia

Threeweekslater…

My feet drag along the floor as voices carry through the hall from the kitchen. When I round the corner, the brightness from the morning sun makes me hiss as my hangover pulses behind my eyes. Lion stops his conversation and knowingly smirks at me before sliding a cup of coffee across the island in my direction.

“You’re a beautiful man,” I say, catching it and basking in its warmth.

I slip onto the barstool next to Marco, who is ignoring his plate of toast and eggs while scrolling through his phone. I reach over and slide his plate in front of me, helping myself to his breakfast.

“I was eating that,” Marco says, dropping his phone to scowl at me.

“If you want to put something in your mouth, Isaacson, by all means.” I smile when his eyes drop to look between my thighs.

Lion groans. “We don’t talk sex at the table, Malia.”

I place my coffee down and pick up a slice of buttered toast to add jelly to. “Exactly how many people have you fucked on this table, Lion?”

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