Page 44 of Speak No Claim

“Shut the fuck up.” I slammed the door behind me.

Caspian didn’t know when to quit, and that was always the problem. He took any opportunity to fuck with me, as I did him. The entire Brotherhood was like that, and I just gave him the perfect ammunition.

I was an asshole. I owned it, making no excuses. There was no reason to try to deny it. I accepted that title a long time ago. I spoke my mind. I didn’t sugarcoat shit, and whether it hurt your feelings or not, it wasn’t my problem. Life was too damn short to pretend to be someone I wasn’t.

My reputation followed me everywhere I went, only making women wet, and they threw their pussies at me like it was gold. Except it wasn’t me they wanted. They craved my last name and everything it stood for.

This was new territory for me, a stranger calling me out. Yet there I was, lost in thought about her. It was the way she came at me with no fear that piqued my interest. She actually had the balls to say to my face what most people said behind my back. It was refreshing.

How she knew about my tattoos wasn’t something I’d soon forget. I couldn’t think of one person who would know all that. I never shared their significance with anyone.

Not a soul knew.

Not that I didn’t enjoy watching her pouty lips pucker every time she tried to hide the effect I had on her. I’d even go so far as to say she affected me too.

She smelled like honey mixed with vanilla and another note I couldn’t name. It was unique, lingering on her tan skin. It was part of the reason I found her that night of her party. I followed her scent. She left it everywhere for me, and I had to tell her that. She was poisonous, and I needed to let her know that too, but something told me she already knew.

Belladonna was living up to her legacy like a little fucking witch.

The girl was a paradox of contradictions. Her demeanor screamed she hated me, but her body, her body liked me just fine. Which only made me want to get to know her that much more. I loved a challenge as much as the next guy.

I wasn’t lying. I loved to chase. The hunt was my favorite thing about the Brotherhood. It was the pirate in me.

“She got to you, didn’t she?” Caspian asked, pulling me away from my reckless thoughts.

“I’m just doing my job.”

“Your job wasn’t to have cameras installed all over her uncle’s estate.”

“It’s not her uncle's. It belongs to Devereaux.”

“It’s going to be her uncle's. He’s marrying your aunt, remember? It’s why he’s living there in the first place.”

I threw off my sneakers, paying him no mind as he added, “What part of your job stated to have cameras in her bedroom?” He smiled like a jokester, big and wide. “Did you put one in her shower too?” He glanced back at the computer screen. “I didn’t get to play around with the camera feeds, but you got quite a few squares on here. My guess is⁠—”

I was over to him in three strides, yanking the cord out of the monitor. It instantly went black, and his eyes flashed with delight.

“Oh, motherfucker…” he sang in a sarcastic tone. “What else are you hiding on that computer?”

Without knocking, Deja appeared out of nowhere, walking into my suite with disappointment written all over her face. I swear she was like a damn cat and had been since we were kids. She used to follow me around as if she were my shadow. I think it was just to learn my habits.

Now, she popped up wherever she felt like it, and I was none the wiser, case in point.

“You have fucking cameras in her bedroom?” she exclaimed loudly. “You’re fucking disgusting! How are we even related?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to knock⁠—”

“How else am I supposed to know what’s going on if I don’t⁠—”

“That’s the whole fucking point, Deja. You’re not supposed to know.”

“Why?” She shrugged, folding her arms over her chest. “Because I’m a girl? That’s sexist,” she sassed, pissing me off. “I can do anything you can do, and probably a better job at it since all you’re run by is your ego and your dick.” She glanced at Caspian, who was leaning up against the wall, enjoying the show.

“Speaking of dicks, what are you doing here, dickhead?”

Deja hated everyone in the Brotherhood, especially since she was promised to one of them. She hadn’t met him yet. She wouldn’t until she was twenty-one. She had about a year and a half left, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she ran away before then.

I hadn’t met him. The only one who knew who he was was our father, and whoever he sold her to was, more than likely, the highest bidder in the room. This was how families maintained generational wealth among those chosen into the society. It was just how things had always been.