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“You have plenty of it.”
“I hate these games, Cullen. Okay? The spinning in circles with questions.”
“Look, there was something that needed to be done,” he says. “It was handled.”
“By Seth. Not you. Not Archer. Why?”
“He wanted to do it,” another voices says.
Archer steps into my bedroom.
This all feels taboo.
Archer isn’t not anHeir.
The idea of him even being in this house is a big risk.
But now he’s upstairs. Now he’s in my bedroom.
The sad truth is that the only reason he’s here is because of Seth.
Because when Seth kidnapped me, Cullen and Archer were able to sort of function without killing each other.
Which brings us to this moment.
Cullen looks at Archer. “Thin ice, Amatti. Want to be escorted out of here?”
“Want to watch me cut the throats of every fuckingHeirin this place?” Archer asks. “She needs to know. Let her know. It’s not your job to protect her from information.”
“Archer is right,” I say.
“Fuck you, Amatti,” Cullen growls.
“Fuck yourself, Doyle,” Archer says.
Then Archer looks at me.
And he nods.
Ihave Cullen sitting to my left.
Archer sitting on my right.
Cullen is calm, cool, smooth. He smells like expensive cologne. He looks fierce, sexy, and makes me want to chew on my lip.
Archer holds his knife in his right hand. He’s built for war. He looks pissed off, ready for a fight, gives me the vibe that he would easily kill anyone who walks through the door.
He also looks like he could kill me in a heartbeat.
“Since Amatti opened his big fucking mouth,” Cullen starts.
“She should know,” Archer says. “She’s anHeir.”
“Don’t spit rules at me,” Cullen says. “You gave this up.”
“Just tell me,” I say.
“Sometimes we bump into what we can call mutual interests,” Cullen says.
