Page 7 of The Players

Always, Viking. I promise.

Carmen jumped off the bed and grabbed her whip from the floor. Her shoulders sagged, as if a massive boulder pressed on them.

“Carmen, what happened?” There was a softness in Vince’s voice Sy had never heard before.

“I don’t owe you any explanation, Vince.”

“The hell you don’t.”

“I don’t owe any man anything.” Followed by a nearly inaudible, “Especiallynot you.”

Much to Sy’s surprise, Vince let that remark go. What the hell was going on here?

Carmen went for the door, her back ramrod straight.

Sy didn’t move an inch when she tried to pass him. Which, unfortunately for her, meant she was stuck. There was no way she could slide past his bulky frame, not unless he allowed her to.

Her eyes narrowed. They held a challenge, which was quite a bold gesture for a woman barely reaching his chest.

Ah, little doll, you don’t know who you’re messing with. Yet.

Vince had never mentioned her, but Sy made it his business to know everything about the people who mattered in his life. Vince may not be his brother by birth, but they were blood brothers. As such, he was familiar with Vince’s brother’s sister-in-law.

She was the widow of, and heir to, Franco Caruso’s estate. Probably spoiled to the bone, having never worked a day in her life or worried where her next meal would come from. They had absolutely nothing in common.

Except, a strange thing happened during their stare-off. He saw beyond her glossy two-hundred-dollar haircut and annoyed heart-shaped face. The princess was in pain. Dark secrets and deep fears hid behind her hazel eyes. For the first time in his life, he wanted to uncover the mystery that was a woman.Thiswoman. Yeah, he wanted her, there was no denying that, but he needed to know what made her tick as well. And, more importantly, how to push those buttons, making her yield to him, instead of defying him.

Her face was ashen and, despite her pretend bravery, she couldn’t hide the slight tremble in her chin, or white knuckles clasping the whip.

Silly girl. Trying to pose as a wolf, while you’re a lamb.

I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in.

My time will come.

He stepped aside, so she could finally move past him. She all but ran, as if hellhounds were chasing her.

The second she disappeared, he turned to Vince. “You want her.”

“So do you.”

Yeah, he did. And what he wanted, he always got.

“You know me,” he answered. “She’s drawn first blood and is going to pay for it, one way or the other.”

Vince cocked a brow as his gaze went to the red lines on Sy’s body. “You do know that you’re the dom and are supposed to be the one wielding the whip, right?”

He answered by flipping him the bird. “You never mentioned her. Not once.” He wasn’t sure why he sounded accusatory. It wasn’t like he believed Vince hid her from him. That wasn’t in his nature. On the contrary, they both liked sharing women. And he intended to share this one.

“Couldn’t. She was married.”

All that mattered to him was that she wasn’t any longer. “What’s stopping you now?”

Vince pulled out his phone and starting typing. Probably to call in the cleaning crew. The man could rule a country with his connections.

“She isn’t like other women we’ve shared,” Vince said, tucking away his phone. “She doesn’t know anything about the lifestyle. If it weren’t for Halloween tonight, she wouldn’t have even been here.”

His gaze turned to the dead guy. The faux dominatrix would have been here all right, he was certain of that.

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