“It was a reflex. I didn’t plan to steal it. No.” The words spill out, and I am unable to stop them.
Shut the fuck up, Nova!
“Told you, she’s fucking delightful,” Levi chimes in, his laughter rumbling from behind Koen. He’s lounging against the wall, amusement glittering in his eyes as if this is all a game to him.
I try to move, to turn and leave, but my feet are locked in place, refusing to obey the desperate commands of my brain, and panic tightens its grip around my chest.
Koen tilts his head slightly, his gaze still piercing. “Why were you at our sister’s grave?”
I grit my teeth, trying to resist, but the words push their way out. “I like to talk to her when I miss my sister.”
“Why?” he presses, his expression softening a fraction. “Why her?”
“My sister’s grave is in Phoenix,” I breathe out. “And your sister’s reminds me of hers.”
Koen’s expression shifts slightly, but enough for me to see something flicker behind his eyes—curiosity, perhaps even a hint of sympathy. He studies me, his gaze lingering, making my skin prickle.
Levi’s chuckle breaks the moment. “Look at that, Koen. The Little Bird’s sentimental. Who would’ve thought?”
I force myself to breathe, to steady the panic that threatens to swallow me whole. My eyes are locked on Koen, daring him to say something to release me from this twisted game he’s set up.
“Why is stealing a reflex for you?” he presses instead.
I grit my teeth, the truth crawling up my throat before I can swallow it back. What I can do is keep my answers as short as possible, though. “Pickpocketing is a hobby.”
That earns me a small smirk from Koen, his lips curving with a dark kind of amusement.
“What do you do with your loot?” Levi straightens, clearly intrigued. “Do you sell it?”
“They’re under my bed. No. They’re trophies.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I try again to will my body to move toward the door, but my feet remain stubbornly rooted to the floor. My panic sharpens when I realize I really won’t be able to leave this room until Koen allows me to. “What the fuck did you do to me?”
In answer, Koen’s smirk deepens, the corner of his mouth lifting.
The curtain gets pulled back, and Carl’s head peeks in. “Everything all right in here?”
“Everything is fine,” I say automatically, the words sliding out as if they belong to someone else.
Because they do.
Goddammit.
“Then get on with it. They’ve paid you well.” Carl nods and closes the curtain again.
What do I do?
My gaze flicks between the twins. Levi still looks amused while Koen stands with his arms crossed over his chest, tilting his head in a challenge.
I sigh and walk over to the wall, pressing the button to start up the music. The familiar bassline kicks in, filling the room with a slow, pulsing rhythm. Reluctantly, I turn back toward Koen, my body moving as if on autopilot, but this time, it’s of my own accord. I hate the idea of dancing for them, but it’s not the first time I’ve done shit I hate to survive.
I reach for him, aiming to push him back onto the couch like I’ve done a hundred other times with a hundred different men. My hand gets close, but before I can make contact, Koen raises his palm and steps back, freezing me in place. “No.”
Levi takes that as his cue, sinking onto the velvet couch, his grin widening as he watches the tension coil inside me. “Me. Me, me! Take me!” I huff but move toward him, and he chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.
Levi’s grin only widens as I straddle him and sink onto his lap, my hips moving to the slow rhythm of the music. He smells divine—a zesty blend of citrus and green apple spiced with warm ginger. “Damn, I’ve never had a lap dance.” He snickers, his voice vibrating through his chest, close enough that I can feel it under my hands. “I always wanted to see the Chippendales, but this… this is way better.”
