"Lorcan was fucking her from behind with his hand wrapped around her throat."
I meet Jino's judgemental stare. "I choked her with my cock while Lorcan choked her with his hand." I pause. "It… obviously, wasn't on purpose."
Emmaleen makes a small sound.
"Her body went limp."
I meet Lorcan's eyes across the room.
"We pulled away immediately. Tried to revive her. But she was already dead."
Complete silence in this room now.
"We stole a pick ax from the groundskeeper's shed to dig through frozen soil in the woods. Far enough from campus that the body wouldn't be discovered accidentally."
My voice doesn't shake.
"We wrapped her in nothing. No blanket. No ceremony. Just dirt and frozen earth." I pause. "We buried her without prayers. Without reporting what happened. Without telling anyone at all."
I look at Jino.
"We spoke a blood oath over her grave. Made promises. And we kept this promise, didn't we?"
Lorcan nods. "We did, G. We did."
"It's over now," I say quietly. "You're free and I'm in the pocket of Luca LaRiccia." Now I look at Jino. "And this is exactly where I want to be. So Jino, you do what you gotta do, man. I won't hold it against you. You've got my secret now too. Ruin me, if you want. I don't care. This is what I need. Plain and simple."
Jino paces Lorcan's great room. "This changes everything." He stops to look at me. Then Lorcan. "The two of you are… fucking dangerous! How?" He points to Emmaleen. "How will she ever feel safe with you?"
I scoff. "Isn't it obvious, Jino? You. You're how she feels safe with me."
He runs his fingers through his hair, thoroughly conflicted.
I watch Emmaleen's face change.
It's subtle at first—a slight widening of her eyes, a quick glance between Lorcan and me. Then understanding floods her expression like cold water. She's re-contextualizing everything.
Every touch.
Every command.
Every denial, in my case. I've never put my cock in her mouth. Ever.
Every moment either of us wrapped our hands around her throat.
We're not just dominants who crossed lines.
She's standing in a room with two men who accidentally murdered a woman while fucking her.
And she's wearing my collar.
I meet her eyes.
"Do you still want to do this?"
The question hangs in the air. Heavy. Absolute. Final.
Because if she says no—if this revelation breaks whatever insane trust she's built with us—I'll let her go. I'll hand her the key to the Aventador outside, the cash, the passport. I'll watch her walk out that door and never contact her again.
