AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I stop dead, stiffening when those familiar brown eyes speckled with gold glare at me. He utters something else, but I don’t hear the words falling from his lips.
I’ve known of Jericho Viotto for years now. We walked the same halls. Took the same classes. But we were always separated by an invisible wall of society. Him with his security guards and riches. And me, with everyone else, barely surviving. Jericho, Arrow, and Shepp were a cut above the rest of us. Better. Wealthier. They’re heirs to the throne of Briar Cove.
My eyes fall down his tall frame, taking in the muscles hiding beneath his white dress shirt. There’s little left to the imagination. Even under his tight pants. He towers over me, still babbling about being in his club and how I’m underage.
It’s odd to me that someone like him could come from my monster—Gabriel Viotto. The king of the city. Someone who takes little girls and hides them away from their sister, who he keeps under his thumb, forcing them to murder and maim under his rule. Even thinking his name has shivers rolling down my spine.
No. Gabriel Viotto is rotten to the core, someone who deserves to catch a bullet between the eyes. He doesn’t deserve a name. He deserves a title—that's all he’ll ever get from me. No respect.
Jericho and his father look so much alike. Tall. Dark. Devastatingly handsome. Only Jericho isn’t him. Not like his father at all. At least, I don’t think he is. I’ve had to watch him before on many occasions, tailing his every move. I think he only saw me once before I darted into a dark hallway.
“Why are you in my club?” he hisses again, practically shoving his face into mine and drawing me out of my rampant thoughts.
Fuck. I’m way too drunk to deal with him. He could skip off to my monster and tell him I was here.
"You're judgmental and rude," I growl, attempting to peel his fingers from my arm, but he relents.
"And you're a bad fucking girl, Little Chaos," he hisses, getting right into my face with his handsome sneer.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" I grind out, wanting to stab him in the eye with my cum shoe. In fact, I bend down, ready to take my spiked heel off and push it through his eyeball, but another hand catches my other arm.
Wonderful.
I'm surrounded by the Devils in a crowded nightclub while my best friend pukes her brains out in the bathroom.
Could this night get any worse?
In the history of all that’s history, no one should speak the phrase could this get any worse and expect a better outcome
I stare Jericho down with a defiant gaze. Now that I’m steady on my feet, thanks to their hands, I can manage a mean expression. Instead of falling over onto the cum-stained floor. Again.
“How did you get into my fucking club?” Jericho barks again.
Finally, his hand unwraps from my bicep, leaving Shepp holding my other arm. No one should be allowed to manhandle me. Ever. And… Shit. I think I’ll have a Jericho-sized bruise there. But oh crap, my breath completely leaves me when he wraps his hands around my waist and brings me flush against him. He smells way too good to be this close to me. I might just eat him alive.
Add Jericho Viotto’s sinfully hard body against mine to the list of illegal offenses for the evening. I swear to all things holy, I can feel every inch of his hard muscles through his tight white dress shirt, and it goes straight to my damn pussy.
“To answer your question, they let me in. Besides, I’m having a girl’s night out. And you were not invited.” I lift my chin, meeting the darkness in his eyes. It fucking calls to me to poke the damn bear and rile him up.
Even Arrow agrees when he chuckles at my side, rudely running his fingers through my curly, disheveled hair and snagging on knots. He pulls and pulls until his fingers are free. But I never flinch from the pain pulling at the roots. My toes may curl, and a moan may lie on the back of my tongue, but I hold back.
My freedom beckons me to rebel against my monster once again. To let these three take me somewhere dark and dangerous and have their wicked way with me.
Where this sass is coming from, I have no idea. This is Jericho Viotto—mafia heir, and his two cronies. And apparently, his club. But he’s in my face, looking all handsome and angry at me. So, I have to fight back, right? I can’t let this tall bastard win. Huh. I guess six-inch heels are good for something. They give me a leg up and put me about as tall as Jericho’s chin. Eat that, asshole.
“I need to go check on my bestie and make sure she’s still in the land of the living.” I grind my teeth when his hands move up and down the sides of my hips, getting dangerously close to the flesh of my outer thighs.
Touch me—my brain sings. Touch me until I come so violently I black out and forget about all my problems. A little voice rings in my head over and over, begging me to claim my freedom again. Memories of the night with my three masked men spring to mind, and a familiar warmth encases my flesh.
If I stay like this, I might just drink his dangerous aura up and get drunk on it. Not that I’m not tipsy. I am. Just a little bit. Jenni insisted on fruity mixed drinks and shots to get us started. Me and shots? We’re not well acquainted. I stopped after the first one and went to sipping my mixed drink because fire burned down my throat. Hence why she’s four tequila shots deep and at least four mixed drinks, too.
Damn. I’m a terrible drinking bestie. But at least I made sure her vagina stayed covered, and she didn’t get herself into any trouble. It’s what friends do, right?
“Call security,” Jericho says, eyeing Arrow, who stands silently beside us with a grin on his face. “Let them know there’s a girl who needs looking after in the restroom. In fact, call Nichole from security. She’ll help clean Jenni up, and then, we can kick these two out.”
“But my Kitten,” Arrow whines with a frown.
“Arrow,” Jericho barks through clenched teeth. “Don’t fucking test me right now.”
