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“One day.” With that, he leads us into the elevator, shielding the code from my view as the elevator drops us down.

*This book is an advance reader copy and is to not be distributed anywhere. [email protected]*

12

Chapter Twelve

Losin’ Control - Russ

Penelope

When the elevator opens, my mouth falls open. A huge, gorgeous chandelier hangs in the middle of the lobby, I’m assuming. The floor is a white limestone, with sparkly black grout lining it all. Fancy white leather couches sit on the side of the lobby, like a waiting area.

Across from that is a reception desk made out of white marble. This place screams rich. “You like? If not, I can change whatever you want,” he says, and confusion lines my face. His chuckle echoes throughout the empty space. “I own this place, Moss.” Oh, okay then, Richie Rich. Bougie ass.

“It’s beautiful,” I gasp. A soft smile sits on his face as he looks down at me, the slit of eyes I can see through the mask shining with something unfamiliar. I smile at him, my face beaming with joy as I take in the space and all the beauty it contains.

I didn’t really look at the lobby when I was Linda before she was pulling me down the dimly lit hallway. This time, I take in every detail, admiring all its beauty.

Riot starts walking, taking my hand in his, leading me down a different hallway from the one I took with Linda. At the end sits a fancy door that he opens to a large garage, at least fifty fancy cars all lined up next to each other.

“Woah,” I gasp again, absolutely stunned. These cars are gorgeous. I want to learn how to drive, just to drive one of these beauties. Jee-zus.

He leads me to a deep red sports car, telling me about it as we walk closer. “This is my baby, a 2019 Toyota 86. Pretty much Supra’s cousin. They look pretty alike but do not come from the same person.” His voice beams with pride. “I got it the day she hit the lot. I was entranced by it when I passed, so I turned around and bought it. I was twenty-seven at the time.” Something hits me, how fucking old is he?

“How old are you?” I stupidly ask as he opens the door for me and closes it, silencing my question. I huff, crossing my arms over my chest in defeat.

He rounds the car and gets into the driver’s side, his foot on a pedal at the bottom as he pushes a button on the dashboard. The car purrs to life, vibrating me in my seat. My eyes widen as excitement takes over. The car sounds amazing. The chopping of the engine sounding throughout the cement garage. I giggle, and Riot looks over at me, eyes sparkling.

“You like it? Should I teach you to drive so you can have your own?” I look over to him, nodding my head yes vigorously. His chuckle rings out in the car, muttering an ‘okay’ under his breath. “Also, I’m thirty-three.” Jeez. That’s pretty old. Ten years my senior.

We’re speeding down the streets of New York, whizzing by cars that honk at us. I’ve never felt so alive. The adrenaline from going fast and dodging all the cars that are going slow. I see new sets of people walking the street, new performers and new music filtering through the window. The colorful lights become a blur as we speed past all the shops.

I hear Riot chuckle beside me, and I look over to him, seeing him looking at someone on a motorcycle right next to us, matching our speed. The bike maneuvers in and out of traffic, sometimes straying into the opposite lane. The bike is a dark purple, I think. The biker has a black helmet on. Oddly enough, the same glowing X’s and smile on it as Riot has on his mask, just purple. “So dangerous,” I grumble. I see Riot look over at me, before he chuckles again.

“That would be my brother, Viktor.” Of course it is. Should’ve guessed from the face on the helmet matching Riot’s mask. My face is glued to the bike, watching the dangerous moves he pulls with ease. I want to do that, ride a bike like that, feel the adrenaline it brings. “I want to learn how to do that.” Riot looks over at me and grunts.

“No.” His tone is short and clipped, leaving no room for any remarks. I roll my eyes, looking out my window, watching the city start to disappear behind us.

It’s been about an hour. Riot said we have a three-hour drive to our location. My face has been glued to the window the entire time. Riot removed his mask once we got out of the city, it is now sitting on the dashboard in front of me. Viktor rides in front of us, swerving the bike every once in a while out of what I assume is boredom.

“I want to ride with him. I’ve never been on a bike.” He looks over to me, unamused at my sentence. He gruffs out another ‘No’, trying not to leave room for argument. Too bad, I suck at reading the room.

“Please,” I whine. “No.” “Please.” “No.” “Pleassseeee.” “Noooo,” He draws out the same way I did my please.

“Pretty please.” I bat my lashes at him, knowing he sees in his peripheral.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and presses some buttons. “Pull over.” He doesn’t give the person time to answer before he hangs up, pulling the car over to the side of the empty road. I know it’s Viktor he called as he pulls his bike to the side of the road, slowing to a halt, the back of the bike tipping off the ground slightly.

Viktor gets off his bike, pulling his helmet off, and all his fluffy hair flops on his forehead. Riot puts his mask on, getting out of the car and walking around to my door, opening it and offering his hand to me. I accept it and get out, a pep in my step as I’m about to get on the motorcycle.

I’m bouncing on my feet, unable to contain my excitement when Viktor speaks up first. “Why did I need to pull over?” He has the same deep, thick accent as his brother. He is about the same size as him too, just slightly shorter, and his waist is a bit wider than Riot’s

Riot’s waist is incredibly small. I wonder if he has all his ribs, or some got removed, causing it to be that size.

Viktor has a tattoo on his neck, same as Riot. I have no idea what it is, though, being too far to see it clearly. He’s got jeans and a normal band tee on, a vest poking out from under the shirt.

“She wants to ride with you,” he gruffs, clearly not on board with the idea. Viktor looks over to me, and I beam, happily jumping up and down at Riot’s side as he grumbles something under his breath. Viktor chuckles and nods his head.