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I take a second to order the routine of the day in my head, going down my mental checklist of things that need to be done.
There’s the Ilya mess to deal with, of course, and I spare a thought to how that spiraled out of control pretty quickly. It seems like everything is doing that these days. We’ll have a plan in place, and before we can make sure it goes off without a hitch, something comes along to fuck it up.
It never used to be like that. We used to work like a well-oiled machine. My hacking skills gave us the advantage we needed, and we executed most of our plans without fail.
Things used to be simple, and now…
Now everything is complicated.
I shake my head and slide out of bed at six thirty-five on the dot, moving to change into new clothes for the day.
As always, I showered last night, and I take off the clothes I wear to sleep in, dropping them into the hamper in my closet. I select a new outfit and put that on, pulling the shirt over my head. It’s early enough that my brothers are still asleep, and that’s one of the reasons I set my alarm so early. There’s something peaceful about having the morning to myself.
I go into the bathroom and take my time washing my face and brushing my teeth, timing out the two minutes that I spend moving my toothbrush around to each quadrant of my mouth down to the second. I run a comb through my hair and then wipe down the counters, cleaning up any toothpaste splatter or bits of soap.
The kitchen is also blessedly empty when I head down, putting the coffee on for myself. I always have one cup in the morning, before the others get up, and then another when we all sit down to breakfast together.
It’s a concession between hiding in my room all day and doing all of my little human things where no one can see them and spending time with my family, the way Ransom is always on my case to do.
Besides, we use meal time to strategize sometimes, even now that Willow’s here with us, so it works out well enough.
I finish the coffee in the kitchen, wash the mug and put it in the drying rack, and then head back upstairs, checking the time on my phone as I do.
Seven fifteen. Not bad.
My computer is asleep, and I jiggle the mouse to wake it up as I settle in at my desk, checking the progress of the things I left running last night.
The message to X has finally been encrypted and sent, and I check to make sure that both the video and the message went through. They did, and although there’s a sense of satisfaction that it’s done now, it doesn’t feel as good as it usually does to cross an item off my to-do list.
The footage I compiled of Willow is still up on the screen, and I let it play through, even though I’ve already seen it plenty of times.
But like everything that has to do with this woman, I can’t look away. I’m so drawn to her, to everything about her. I’ve never wanted to be that close to anyone before, but as I stare at the images of her touching herself in her bathroom and Malice eating her out on her bed, my fingers tingle slightly with the urge to reach out.
When the footage from Malice and Ransom fucking her in the living room comes up, I hold my breath, watching it play through. She might have been a virgin before, but she looks like a natural on her knees, crawling to Malice, taking his cock in her mouth. The look on her face and the way she throws herself into it makes my blood heat, and I let out a ragged breath as arousal stirs in me.
I watch her ride Ransom and then get fucked by Malice, wincing in sympathy as he pounds into her. She must have been sore after that. Then I see myself step up, my cock gripped in my fist, and my heart rate speeds up, my stomach clenching.
I stop the video before it can get to the part where she leans in to lick me, not sure if I could handle seeing it again. It was almost more than I could take, even in the moment, but when my brothers and I decided to do this, we agreed it would be all of us.
Working together as a unit, like we always do.
Leaving the video frozen where I paused it, I click over to the message that I sent with the footage.
It’s cold, even for me, and I scowl as I read through it. I don’t like it.
Something about talking about Willow that way doesn’t sit right with me, even though I know it’s not true. None of it is true. I haven’t met her adoptive mother, but I’ve heard enough from Willow and Malice to know that Willow is nothing like her. And calling her worthless made my fingers ache as I typed, memories of my father screaming those words at my face filtering through my mind.
But it had to be done.
I open the message from X that started all of this shit, reading it again with narrowed eyes. His messages are always curt and to the point, as detailed as they need to be to make sure we can carry out his instructions, but no more than that. This latest one from him is no exception.
I’ve got a new job for you. A delivery. I want you to bring me this girl—Willow Hayes. (photo attached)
Because the nature of this drop will be more complicated than others, send me an encrypted message when you have her subdued and ready for hand-off. At that point, I’ll arrange the drop site and let you know where to bring her.
Note: It’s imperative that she be untouched. She’s useless to me if she’s been defiled.
We’re playing a dangerous game, defying X without openly refusing to carry out his orders. He said she would be useless to him if she was defiled, so we made sure he would see her that way. Our hope is that this will lessen his interest in her, and that he’ll move on to something else that will be more lucrative for him. And since we never declined the job outright, he can’t claim that we’re going back on our deal and reneging on our debt.
