I glance around, and Garrett widens his eyes, jerking his head towards Diesel to prompt me. Swallowing, I look back at D and lick my lips. “I’m guessing that’s me…and you?”

“Course.” He grins. “My little bird, right over my heart.”

“I—” I swallow again. “I love it.”

And I do. It’s magnificent, clearly Garrett’s work again, but what does it mean? A small part of me knows, and fear and excitement fill me. Does Diesel…love me?

To be loved by him would be both dangerous and an adventure. It might kill me, it might consume me, but I would die smiling. Except he can’t love me. Can he? And is that how he sees me? Standing so strong, capturing them?

“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, and he rounds the table, crouching before me.

“So are you, Little Bird.” He winks before leaning in and kissing me hard, not seeming to realise I’m frozen. He pulls back, looking way too happy. “I told you, you’re ours, Little Bird, and you’re never getting away from us. This is just to show people. You wear our marks, we wear yours.”

My eyes widen at that. Did everyone else get this too? The thought overwhelms me. “Just D,” Garrett comments, like he knows my thoughts, and I deflate. Thank fuck. D is crazy, and his emotions are different than everyone else’s. He wants me, he takes me. He loves me and hurts me. It’s simple for him. For the others to get it would be another reason why, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

But Diesel?

It doesn’t matter if I don’t say it back or if I’m unsure how I feel, he knows. He always does. He kisses me again, and this time I return it. He laughs, happy as he returns to his seat, but I’m quiet the whole meal. I can feel Ryder’s eyes on me the entire time.

Is this my life now?

Falling in love with the Vipers? Lust and accepting my new life is one thing…but can I really love them? We started out rough, and part of me still hates them.

Somewhere along the line, did the ‘hate yous’ really start to mean something else? I don’t know, and that scares me. Ryder is terrified I’ll destroy his family…what if he’s right?

But what if I don’t? What if I find happiness here? I suck in a breath, deciding I have to try. I might be afraid to love someone…more than someone, but I don’t want to give this up yet, so I won’t let them know just how hard it is for me to love, or how messed up I am that when people say they love me, I wait for the pain to come. Because it always does.

Those who love us have the opportunity to hurt us the worst, and in my experience, they always do.

After breakfast, I rush to my room to have a moment to myself. I end up falling asleep, and when I wake up, I feel better. I can’t let this freak me out.

I can hide away, cut this off, and let it control me…and maybe lose the guys—the best thing to ever happen to me

Or I keep living, despite the fear, and keep accepting them. I know my choice, so I put on my warpaint, feeling better, stronger with my makeup on. My eyes are lined and dark, my lips are a deep red like blood, and I add the necklace they bought me, the choker, before slipping into another dress. It’s a black one with lace sleeves that gape. It’s a bit dressy, clinging to my body, but it makes me feel good. Lastly, I do my hair, straightening it.

I head out, but only Kenzo is there, his hair slicked back, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled back to expose his thick forearms, a grey waistcoat, and trousers. He looks amazing. When he looks up with a soft smile and sees me, his mouth falls open, making me feel sexy, so I strut over to him and, being brave, straddle his lap. His tablet falls to the side forgotten as he grips my ass and drags me closer.

“You look good enough to eat, darling,” he growls.

“That a promise?” I grin down at him, slicking my hand through his hair so some of it falls to the side.

He groans. “I wish, I have to go soon.”

“Where to?” I ask, feeling his hard cock pressing against me.

His eyes are dark with lust. “A game,” he murmurs. “There is someone who will be playing that I need information on.”

“About the hits?” I press.

He shakes his head. “About the leak. An old player of mine, someone who used to run bets for me.”

I perk up. “Can I go?”

“You want to go?” he queries slowly, and I snort.

“Hell yes, I’m bored as fuck, let me help. Plus, booze, gambling, and you? Sounds like fun.”

He groans, licking his lips. “That’s ridiculously hot.” He runs his eyes down my body, making me shiver. “You can come, but just know that your dress will be on my floor before the end of the night. You’re my winnings.”

Leaning down, I kiss him softly. “Promises, promises,” I murmur, as I get up and saunter away, stopping at the door to glance back at him. His eyes are closed, lips pursed. “Coming?”

He scrambles to his feet, smirking at me as he straightens his waistcoat and grabs his phone before pocketing it. His hand twists his dice as he heads over, draping an arm around my shoulder. “Can’t wait, darling.”

We head downstairs, his hand stroking down my back to my ass in the elevator. I grin as the door opens, and he guides me out, under his arm, and over to a red Ferrari. He opens the door, and I slip in, watching as he rounds the hood and slides into the driver’s seat. He winks over at me. “Hold on,” he warns, and the engine revs as he peels from the spot.

I scream in ecstasy as we break free of the building and race out into the streets. It’s getting dark now, the city coming to life as he weaves through traffic. We leave the city and head onto an open stretch of road. With one hand on the wheel, the other on the stick shift, he speeds up before reaching over and laying his hand on my bare thigh, squeezing it as he drives.

My hair blows back, my heart hammers from the speed, and a grin curves my lips. This is amazing. I open my legs farther for him, and his hand slips higher, stopping when his thumb brushes my pussy, just staying there as he steers. The way he handles the machine, and how fast we are going, still climbing, turns me on.

Why is that so hot?

It takes barely any time before we turn and head down a private driveway on the wealthiest side of town. “Why don’t you guys have a house here?” I ask.

“We do. We hate it.” He grins over at me as we pull up at a black, ornate fence with a crest on the front. “We hate rich people, stuffy bastards.”

“You are a rich person.” I laugh.

“True, and aren’t I a stuffy bastard?”

The gate cranks open, and he speeds through it, driving down a lit cobbled lane to a circular driveway with a fountain in the middle, situated before a giant mansion. He pulls up right outside the door and throws his keys at the valet there as he gets out, rounding to open my door for me. He offers me his hand, and I accept it, then he helps me up and wraps his arm around my waist as we head up the steps to the entrance.

The door is opened for us. Music pours out, and when we step inside, my mouth almost drops. Fuck, this is a how the other half lives. Chandeliers hang everywhere, with old-style, gold framed art hanging on every wall alongside family portraits. Two curving staircases lead up to the first floor from the lobby we’re in.