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“We were just teasing you,” Tomas claims. “Come on, doll. Drop the weapon.”
I meet Parker’s gaze. “Why should I? None of you deserve me.”
Parker scoffs. “What do you have that we don’t?”
“A pussy.”
Soren bursts into chuckles while Parker looks at him with a death glare. Even Tomas smirks with amusement as I swing the foil away from them, still in a position to fight but more willing to have them speak to me.
When Parker fixes his angry gaze on me, he forces a smile. “Cute, but not quite important enough.”
“I have my father’s notebook.”
Silence infects the room. Each of them gives me a surprised expression, like they didn’t know I had it in me to be feisty.
“You’re lying,” Parker snaps.
“I want to see it,” Soren demands.
Tomas stands with a stupefied expression.
A devious smile breaks out on my lips. “Nobody gets to see it.”
Parker growls. “You fucking conniving bitch. Don’t you know having that notebook will get you killed?”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“No. Why the fuck would I do that, Alex?”
I shrug while nonchalantly inspecting my nails. “Where’s the body of my father’s killer you promised me?”
“We haven’t managed to break through any leads,” he replies through gritted teeth. “You would know that if you spent more time with me.”
“Are you jealous?”
Red splotches bloom on his cheekbones and forehead, but his expression remains stern. “I don’t get jealous.”
“How about I make you a deal?” I look at Soren with a smirk. “I know you guys just love your deals.”
No opposition explodes from them, which makes me feel powerful.
I have them right where I want them.
“Whoever avenges my father and Lev will have the notebook—and be my right hand.”
The fencing studio door swings open before any of the boys can respond. Coach Neill walks purposefully into the room, shooting an evil eye at the guys standing so close to me. Tomas and Soren take a step back while Parker holds his ground.
“The four of you are going to get killed fucking with the Persian,” she warns.
Parker snorts. “Leave. We don’t need your help.”
Coach Neill crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s my studio.”
“I don’t give a fuck who it belongs to. I said, get out.”
I hold my hands up between them, inspiring silence. It’s strangely affirming to be able to do such a thing when I can hardly shield myself from getting my heart shattered to pieces by these three fuckboys. After a deep breath, I focus on Coach Neill and whisper, “Please, if you’re as loyal as you say to my father, you’ll leave. I have this under control.”
She hesitates, studying my expression so intensely that I think she might actually be regretting her allegiance. But when she leaves, a sigh of relief echoes through my body. The door whispers shut and I’m left with the three boys, who seem keen on circling me again.
“So, we have a deal,” I state confidently while reaching for Tomas. “Let’s seal it.”
When I grab the front of his jeans, he groans. “And how would we do that, doll?”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
Their hands swarm my body, stripping me naked and sliding between my wet folds to claim me. It’s a painful confirmation of such a deal, almost shameful in its enactment, but it seems to register between the four of us that this is serious business. We’ve struck a bargain, and now we need to shake on it.
As they take turns slamming between my legs, I bite back my responses, taking no pleasure in the act of being gangbanged. Maybe there’s a fantasy lodged away somewhere in the recesses of my brain about this, but this is about control more than it is about satisfaction.
They’re hell-bent on breaking me, on making me theirs. Because of their obsession and my resistance to their advances, they’ll always be obsessed with me. I control them with my body. That’s the greatest power I could ever wield as a queen.
