Page 92 of Goddess of Mayhem

His hand stops moving and something dark and sinister takes over his face. I like it when he looks like that. As if I’ve corrupted his very being and shaped him into a deviant lover ready to create chaos and mayhem together as we take over the world.

“Why is she still alive?” It’s not so much a question than it is a demand.

Olin’s are ruthless by nature, there’s not a rumor that doesn’t back it up. Once my existence became public knowledge and people put it together I was The Phantom, The Omen’s enforcer, my name built the same reputation.

Malia Olin the mafia princess and angel of death I’ve heard some say. His confusion is valid, but I’m not willing to admit all of my vulnerabilities in one sitting. I hold everything close to my chest and it’s going to take me a while to be able to give him everything I have to give.

But I’m willing and he’s going to have to accept that I’m only learning how to do this.

Liam’s hand reaches up, face softening as he pushes the damp curls from my face. “You don’t have to tell me now, but I need to know something, Malia.”

I hum, my eyes growing heavy as sleep threatens to pull me under.

“The ball was for your hand in marriage,” he mumbles disapprovingly. “Am I going to have to fight for you?”

“Would you?”

He smiles then leans in to place a kiss on my lips. “To the death, baby.”

I scoff and roll my eyes at his cheesiness before rolling on my side. Liam takes my hand in his, interlacing our fingers. “Tawny, my mother, wanted the ball as her way of getting rid of me.” I shrug. “Daddy would never put me through an arranged marriage, at least I don’t think he would. He and my mother had one and they hate each other.” I let out a sigh and shake my head. “With Martinez’s presence looming and my mother’s secret connection to him, we needed to appear united. My dad needed to seem ignorant to what was going on. It was mostly for show.”

Liam nods in understanding and I find myself drifting off to sleep while staring into his blue orbs until he pulls me into his arms and I let myself relax against him hoping that when I wake up, he will still be here and he’s finally mine.

Thirty Seven

Nathaniel

ITHASBEENAlong few days. Malia and Liam have been gone a little over a week and I hate not having eyes on her at all times. There is a security system in and around the cabin, but it has not been updated in so long we are not able to see the footage from here. I did not have enough time to get a new system installed before they left, now it is too risky to send more people there.

I have been in Boston the last few days tracking down a lead on Martinez that inevitably ran cold. Chantelle has not spoken to me since I brought her here and told her she could not leave.

My feet come to a halt when I step through the grand entrance. Chantelle stands with one of my guys, Salvador Ramos, a little too close for my liking.

Salvi snakes a hand around her waist resting it on her lower back. My gun is out, and I send a bullet through the shoulder that holds that arm. Chantelle screams and Salvi staggers back.

He goes to grab his gun before he realizes who shot him.

“The fuck, Nate!” he yells, holding his gunshot wound.

“You almost shot me you jealous fuck!” Chantelle screams at me. Guess she is feeling better.

I cock the hammer on the gun another time, tilting my head and giving her a smirk then shooting again, landing a bullet in Salvi’s foot this time.

I do not hang around to see what happens after that. I storm back to my room, blood boiling to the surface. Chantelle’s small body steady on my heels. I keep my back to her as she glares at the back of my head.

I was not doing this tonight.

It was taking every ounce of me not to follow Salvador to the infirmary and make him beg for his life. Not only could I not do that to Oren, but I could not take Chantelle’s fear toward me… at least not in that sense.

“Leave,” I say, my voice rougher than intended.

“If I leave, I go home. Is that what you want?” Her voice loud in annoyance.

I fumble around my drawers keeping my mind and hands busy.

“You’re not going anywhere, until all threats are eliminated. Deal with it,” I growl, hoping she would get angry enough to walk out of my room.

“Fucking face me, Nate,” she demands.

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