Vale lounges on the couch, sprawled like he owns the place — tattoos and danger stretched across black fabric, eyes glinting with lazy amusement. Wraith stands near the window, arms folded, all stillness and storm.
Perfect targets.
If I’m going to survive this, I need leverage against the rest of them. And I’m running out of time to find it.
I adjusted my blouse before walking in — unbuttoned two more than necessary. The line of my collarbone catches the light when I move. The hem of my skirt rides higher than decency would allow. I pretend it’s comfort. It isn’t. “Did the boys have a productive meeting?” I ask, dropping my voice into something teasing. “All that power in one room — surprised the walls didn’t catch fire.”
Vale looks up, smirk cutting across his face. “Jealous you weren’t invited, Red?”
“Jealous?” I tilt my head. “No. Curious though? Maybe. You don’t exactly strike me as the type to plan anything before acting.”
He chuckles. “Touché.”
Wraith just grunts, gaze flicking to me and then away. “You need something?”
“Yeah,” I say, ignoring the way my stomach revolts at speaking to my brother’s killer. “Makeup. Clothes that aren’t two sizes toosmall. Shampoo that doesn’t smell like motor oil. You know — thebasichuman things.”
Vale raises an eyebrow. “You asking for a shopping trip?”
“Something like that,” I reply. “If I’m going to be your pretty little prisoner, I might as well look the part.”
Wraith’s jaw tightens. “Not happening.”
I roll my eyes before I can stop myself. “You’re joking.”
“No,” he says, voice stern and final.
Vale leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching me with that feral half-smile. “You can tell us what you want, cariño, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get it.”
“I’m not asking for diamonds,” I snap. “Just fucking mascara.”
“Not happening,” Wraith repeats, and the finality in his tone makes me want to scream.
Instead, I walk closer to him. Slowly—like a panther stalking its prey. Vale’s eyes track me like a cat watching a flame. “Come on,” I murmur, fingertips brushing the back of his hand where it rests on the couch. “Don’t tell me you’ve never indulged a woman before.”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t stop me. Just lets me trail my fingers up his arm, testing the reaction, the edge.
He smirks, tilting his head. “Careful, Red. You’re playing with things you don’t understand.”
I turn to Wraith next. His body is rigid, tense, and unreadable. “And what about you?” I ask quietly. “You seem like the type who likes control. Maybe I just need to ask the right way.”
He looks down at me — all muscle, restraint, and that strange, haunting calm.
When I reach out and touch his chest, his hand snaps up to catch mine before it can wander further. “Enough,” he says softly.
The sound of it hits deeper than a shout, and my gut recoils. What the fuck am I doing? “Didn’t mean to offend,” I say softly, stepping back quickly.
“You didn’t,” Vale murmurs. “You just underestimated us.”
My laugh comes sharp. “I tend to do that when I’m locked in a house full of men with superiority complexes.”
“Then maybe stop trying to manipulate the ones holding the keys,” Wraith says.
I glare at him, heat flooding my face. “Maybe I just wanted lipstick, not a lecture.”
“Sure you did,” Vale says, voice low, amused.
The moment stretches — a pulse of air, thick and humming with tension. I can feel both of them watching me, waiting for me to break first. I don’t.
