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Sade grips my wrist the moment I stand up. “It’s past fucking midnight. Besides, she won’t tell you jack shit if Romano has her in a chokehold, and you can’t force her.” He removes his hand slowly. “Before you do anything, we have to make a plan.”
I swallow my own impatience as I sit back down on my stool.
“The best plan is having her permanently monitored,” I say. “Like every single second.”
“And, of course, you would be the one to do it. How very convenient.” There’s something playful in his tone just before he takes another swig of water.
I hiss, but that’s all the hostility I’ll give him. Ever since Justine and Sade got together he’s been growing into a brighter version of himself. No less dangerous or deadly, but less prone to eruptive violence. He is...happy, and I won’t spoil that for him. Neither of us hoped for a single moment of happiness in our wretched lives, so it’s precious.
“So, how do you intend to monitor her?” Sade continues as I flex my fist in the makeshift bandage, watching the blood soak the white fabric. “Because even if you install cameras and mics at her apartment, she’s not always there, and—”
“I won’t install any fucking cameras in her apartment,” I declare, eyes fixed on the blood seeping into inch after inch of white. Sade angles his body to me, one hand on his thigh, his wordless question weighing me down.
As a plan starts forming in my head, I start talking.
***
Eva
MY CHEEKS FLUSH WHEN I see the girls seated at their usual table at the cafeteria.
I’ve never been much of a talker when it comes to my sex life, but what happened with Micah last night is too big, and I’m desperate to get it out of my system. Not to mention that they’ll find out anyway, considering how that irresistible bastard is determined to destroy me. I can’t afford for them to learn anything incriminating about me from someone else again, or I’ll lose them.
My eyes stealthily sweep the cafeteria for any of the Kings, and I breathe out in relief when I spot none. Still, Justine is at the table, which means that Sade can’t be far away. He never is.
So I might not have much time.
I slide onto the semi-circular seat, right next to Justine, while Annie’s big Disney princess eyes blink at me from behind her thick-framed glasses. Mel leans in with her lips parted, her mouth as glossy as her perfect chestnut hair, sensing the load that I’m carrying.
“So,” I begin, setting my Ultrabook on the table. I haven’t even gotten my coffee yet. Despite the exhaustion, I tossed and turned in bed all night, and I’m still restless. A bit of caffeine, and my heart might burst.
My eyes sweep over my best friends’ faces. I’ve loved these women for two years now, and I trust them with my life, but this is going to be a blow for them, and there’s no way to cushion it.
“I thought it would be better for you to hear this from me, so...” I tuck a strand that has loosened itself from my chignon behind my ear, and lift my chin. “Last night, I had sex with Micah Royales.”
Nothing.
Not even a gasp.
None of the girls do so much as breathe, and neither do I.
I start to think that my statement is not even technically true. He didn’t stick his cock in me, but he did run it thoroughly down my throat, and my pussy is still aching from his fingers. The level of filth was off the charts and, if I think about it, it counts more as sex than anything I’ve ever done with Santi.
Or anyone before him.
“How the hell did that happen?” Annie finally blurts out, completely stunned.
Justine’s eyes fly between me and her a few times before she decides to summarize the backstory.
“He thought that Eva was having an affair with Romano—he got it all wrong. Still, that must have been his way of punishing her.”
Seems like everyone at this table is so well acquainted with how the Kings think and operate that a few words can explain a whole world of subtleties, and no one asks questions.
I clear my throat. “I just wanted you to know in case things got awkward. Or, you know, in case Micah has more punishment coming my way and things get more, I don’t know—” I shrug. “Public?”
Their eyes linger on me with piercing scrutiny.
“What? That’s it?” Annie whisper-shrieks. “Come on, Evita, you don’t actually think you’re getting away with giving us only crumbs.” She bends in closer, now practically stretched over the table, her little bratty tits pressed against it. “How was it?”
