“I don’t think he’s here for us, though.” Gareth releases a sigh, and I glare at him.
He just laughs. The asshole.
“Question.” Niko jumps up. “How about we disguise ourselves, and the Serpents don’t know it’s us? Genius, right?”
“There’s no way we can disguise you, Niko,” Jeremy says.
“Listen, motherfucker—” Niko trips and falls near the coffee table, narrowly avoiding hitting his head.
I pull my leg back discreetly as he yells and bitches.
Childish, maybe.
But I don’t like that he beat Yulian up, especially that punch that knocked him down. He had to shake his head to get back on his feet.
Since I have a broad idea of the type of abuse Yulian has endured at his father’s hands, I don’t like anyone hitting him—Nikolai included.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out faster than I’ve ever done anything in my life.
I knew Yulian wouldn’t ghost me. The other times he attempted that, sulking and acting like a drama king, lasted an hour max.
Besides, it’s not really that I don’t want to go to the house. I want to touch him so badly, I’ve been having withdrawals.
But that’s exactly why I want to put some distance between us, train my brain to stop acting on instinct when he’s around and teach him—and myself—some impulse control, because fucking hell, he can be so reckless.
Y
You don’t get here in thirty minutes, I’m fucking him on your bed.
He sends a photo.
The picture shows Kevin on his knees, sucking on Yulian’s thumb. It’s a little blurred, but I’d know that hand anywhere—the veins, the tiny wing inked above the fang at the slope of his thumb, curling into the inside of his wrist. I kissed and held and touched that hand more times than I can count.
And now that fucking hand is on someone else.
My spine jerks upright as I type.
Me
You do that, and it’s over, Yulian.
Fine by me. Better that than playing your push-and-pull games. Goodbye, Vaughn.
Goodbye? You’re not the one saying goodbye, I am. You think you have any control over this relationship?
Apparently not. I can still end it, though.
My jaw tightens. Is he seriously ending it? He thinks hecanend it?
Or threaten me?
Or make me do something I don’t want to?
Fuck Yulian Dimitriev. No one dictates my actions.
Twenty minutes later,I nearly slam my car into the wall of the house.
The purchase itself didn’t take long, but finding the right place took work. I practically made the realtor strong-arm a couple into giving up their dream beach house on a hill—secluded, overlooking the sea, farfrom anyone else. A discreet private gate, a long driveway, and a recent renovation in a clean, neoclassical style.
