Page 134 of Tempting Little Thief

Draped in well-fitted black from head to toe, he’s what wicked dreams are made of. Hair as black as a panther, eyes as majestic as one, with beautiful ink sprawling up his neck, down his hands, and across those scarred knuckles. The air of dominance in which he walks is of the effortless kind. Theenviouskind. He’s devastatingly, devilishly handsome. Tempting in the best and worst ways, yet still, he looks … off.

That is not his suit and he is missing his jacket.

It’s all wrong.

Not like my Bastian.

Not like my tattooed tyrant, my public school punk, my sort-of, kind-of stalker.

“Stop staring,” Bronx says through a tight smile as we approach her father. “Dad!”

Mr. Bandoni beams, wrapping her in a hug and stealing his only child so he can show her off to the men before him, but not before offering me a simple squeeze and nod hello.

Free at last, I move toward the bar for something to do, and Kylo and Kenex are quick to join me.

“My new guard dogs?” I guess, going for a water first this time.

“Considering Sai ran off like his ass was on fire, yes. Yes, we are.”

My head snaps their way. “Why would he run off?”

“I’m sure he’s lurking somewhere or checking in with security or something, but he took off after you went all zombie Barbie and froze.” Kylo’s eyes fall to my gown. “You look nice, by the way.”

That grabs Kenex’s attention, and he nods in agreement, his focus quickly falling back to his phone. “Bishop probably hates your dress.”

The way he says his last name so casually is irritating. “How would you know what Bastian hates?”

“He’s like us. I know.”

I consider his words a moment, remembering what Bastian said about how they’re different than us, and I won’t deny it’s true. It is. It’s why my father hates them.

It’s interesting though, as the more I’m around them, the less like outsiders they feel. They’re more like us than I gave them credit for. They’re strong and resilient and hardworking. They never give up and always push for more, for better. Theydon’t place blame on others but take responsibility for their actions and don’t fret when punishment is given.

I meet both Kylo and Kenex’s dark eyes, and when I offer a small smile, a real one, both boys nod their chins in acknowledgment. Maybe it’s time I lower the wall I allowed my father to build between us, if only by a few inches because if Bastian believes there is something trustworthy within them, as odd as it sounds, something tells me I can too.

Maybe I always sort of knew that. I wouldn’t stay in a home they lived in if I didn’t, right?

Suddenly Kylo grins and when the waiter lowers a fruity glass of champagne, he shakes his head. “No, she needs something stronger tonight.”

Chuckling, I turn to face them in my seat, accepting the scotch he passes me. “That’s more like it,” I tell him. “And keep them coming.”

It’s going to be a long fucking night.

Chapter 23

Bass

Burgundy. That’s a little too close to red for me. That’s what that little Henshaw fucker said he wanted, right? To see her in red.

The bastard is here like I knew he would be, but he hasn’t dared step through the center of the room yet, and not a single foot toward her. I caught him in my peripheral, the way his head snapped to the side and body tensed when he spotted me was damn near comical, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know I knew he was there, watching. He’s still watching, tucked in the back corner, probably trying to come up with a plan that gets him from where he is to where she is without me stepping in.

I have every intention of stepping in, but I have no reason to look his way, not when the person I want to see is right ahead, looking all kinds of pretty and pissed off. Straight-up miserable. She says she loves this world, yet it’s obvious this is the last place she wants to be. The smile on her face is fake as fuck, but it’s not like it doesn’t match every other person in this room.

They laugh and joke and make plans to meet up after tonight to discuss some kind of business that no one says out loud, but all seem to understand, depending on who the words come from and who they’re going to. The wives, if they’ve earned such a right, stand around and smile, seemingly worthless in their position, but it doesn’t look like they mind. They get to play dress-up, all glitter and shiny shit women like them kill for. Maybe even literally, but who knows.

Maybe her misery has nothing to do with where she is and everything to do with who she has to be on nights like this. This world of back-alley criminal organization shit is supposed to be hers one day, or at least a part of it. According to her, she’s the heir that will take over when her dad’s time ends, but if that’s the case, then I’m having a really hard time figuring out why he makes her wear a mask of perfection when he should show them the chaos that creeps inside her. Those little manic moments she gives glimpses of? That’s what he should want the world to see. A viper with a poisonous bite, not a princess with a preening smile.

Logically, that’s exactly what he would do.

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