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I shudder, imagining if my father were always visiting me. The one good thing is he doesn’t come here often.
Mackenzie paces the room, wringing her hands. What the hell? She’s nervous and stressed, and I want to know why.
“Spit it out,” Dom snaps.
He’s an asshole, but he only voiced what I was thinking.
“Kirill asked me to marry him.”
I stare at her, and, in the corner, Dom bursts out laughing.
“Fuck off, he did.” Dom carries on laughing between speaking. “Good one, Duchess. Now, seriously, what is going on?”
She narrows her eyes at Dom and crosses her arms under her perky tits, shoving them up a little in her tight t-shirt. “Screw you. Fine. I won’t tell you.”
My heart picks up speed, and my throat runs dry. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly, and so was he.”
“When?” Dom demands.
“Today.” She takes a seat at the small chair by her desk and picks at a piece of fluff on the leg of her jeans. “He was really off. Not himself. He got upset with me when I said no.”
“Of course you said no.” Dom jumps off the bed. “That fucking fucker. I’ll kill him. How dare he? Behind our backs, too.”
Mackenzie picks up her notebook and throws it at Dom’s head, shocking me.
“This isn’t about you, Dom. Or your feelings right now. This is about Kirill, who I am worried about, and me. So can you for once in your goddamn life try to not only see everything in the way it affects you?”
Ouch. But she’s not wrong. Dom is a narcissistic asshole a lot of the time.
“Why was he being strange?” I ask. “I mean other than the fact that he’s clearly lost his mind by asking you to marry him.” I ignore the fact that I was thinking about doing the exact same thing.
“He seemed super tense. As if he might explode at any minute. When I said no, he said … he said he would make me.”
Her words turn into little more than a whisper at the end. What the actual fuck?
I stare at Dom, and we have a silent conversation. I can see the sudden real worry, and maybe even fear in his gaze. This is seriously not where any of us saw this heading when we started our games with this girl. Is she going to tear us all apart?
My stupid fantasy of her coming back with me to my home crashes and burns around me. I see another future. One with her married to Kirill, and whisked off to Russia, and the Devils fractured beyond repair. I’d lose my only real friends, my Duchess, and probably, if things keep going this way, my mother and sister, too. I’d be at that compound with only my father and his men.
It’s a hellish vision, and my stomach lurches. I stand and pace, cursing as I put too much weight on my bad leg, making it scream.
Christ, I need more pills. I need a bottle of whisky, too, to deal with this head fuck.
Kirill has lost his goddamn ever-loving mind. From the murderously dark expression stealing across Dom’s face, Kirill might be about to lose his life.
“How does he intend to make you?” Dom drawls.
I admire his restraint.
“Did he share this information?” Dom’s dark brows are raised in a question.
“No.” Mackenzie shakes her head. “He said his dad wanted it, and his dad would make it happen.”
“Oh, crap,” I say without thinking.
“What?” Mackenzie turns to me. “Why are you all reacting this way? Camile was the same.”
