“Fuck, that’s hot.” Caz slams his lips down on Theo’s mouth, and I swoon, like I do every time they touch each other. It’s still early days, but they are slowly opening up to one another, and it’s a beautiful thing to bear witness to.
“Careful you don’t come, queenie,” Saint drawls, noticing my expression.
“I’ve already taken care of our girl,” Galen replies. “Lo just came twice on my cock in six minutes.”
Saint eyeballs him like he’s lying, but he’s not. Galen is just that good, and he’s earned bragging rights, but now isn’t the time to gloat. “Stop talking about sex.” I pin them with a warning look. “We can’t afford to get distracted.”
“Lo is right,” Theo says, breaking his lip lock with Caz. “Like always.”
“You are such a suck up.” Galen rolls his eyes.
“We should never forget that Sinner is smart as fuck, and he has a way of being ahead of the game. We’re prepared, but so is he.” The troubled, haunted look returns to Theo’s eyes, making me nervous. “Don’t lose sight of that tonight.”
Anxious energy filters into the room. We all get what Theo’s saying, and we agree, but it’s worth the risk to end this once and for all.
My fingers slide across the metallic silver belt on my dress and strengthen my resolve. Sinner is going down. No other outcome will do.
“Let’s do this.” Saint offers me his arm, and I loop mine around it. “Sinner will be here any second. Let’s roll out the red carpet.”
“By the way, queenie,” Caz says, slapping my ass as we make our way out of the room. “You look fucking hot.”
I blow him a kiss over my shoulder. “Thank you, husband. I chose leather so we match.”
That sexist pig Sinner hasn’t supplied me with a fitting Sainthood wardrobe, so I improvised. Not that I’d ever wear anything that came from him, especially not something bearing The Sainthood logo I despise so much, but it’s the principle of the thing.
I smooth a hand down the front of my black dress, knowing I look good. This is one of my favorite dresses. The top is a fitted leather corset with straps that crisscross over my shoulders and down my back, showcasing some of the ink on my skin but not low enough to be indecent. The bottom half is black silk, and the skirt flares out in billowy pleats, allowing me to hide my knives underneath.
Theo’s phone pings in his pocket, and he glances at it as we make our way downstairs. “Diesel said they are in situ, and they’ll move into place outside as soon as we give them the word.”
We must wait for all the guests to arrive before we can signal the team to sneak on to the property.
“Did you tell him about our discovery?” I ask under my breath as we descend the stairs.
“Yes, and he agreed we were right to do nothing,” Theo adds, squeezing my hand.
Loud clapping greets us as the lobby comes into view, and bile rises in my throat at the sight of Sinner.
He’s dressed in a tuxedo.
As if he’s attending a movie premiere or a high-society gala.
Behind him, his board members are in their Sainthood cuts, so they clearly didn’t get the memo.
Tension bleeds in the air as we walk down the last few steps. Heated eyes pin me in place and all the tiny hairs prickle the back of my neck. I’m glad I chose to wear my hair up in a high ponytail, because this house is suddenly as hot as a furnace, and little beads of sweat gather on the nape of my neck.
Sinner whistles, doing nothing to disguise his blatant ogling. “You have grown into a very sexy woman, Harlow. My son is a lucky man.” His wolfish grin does nothing to calm my growing trepidation, but I put a lid on it, forcing my body not to react to his sickening gaze and his disgusting words. I plaster a sociable smile on my face. “Thank you for the compliment.” I almost puke on the words.
“Allow me to escort the lady of the moment into our ballroom.” He offers me his arm, and I cling tighter to Saint’s arm, discreetly rubbing my necklace to activate the recording device.
“You mean my ballroom,” Galen says with a glare.
Sinner chuckles. “Let’s not split hairs, nephew. We both know you’d be living on the streets if I hadn’t intervened to save you and your mother.” He casts a glance around. “Speaking of the junkie whore, where is she?”
“Mom is not here,” Galen lies. “And don’t call her that.”
“Pity,” the bald dude with the ink on his face says, crudely grabbing his crotch. “I could use her mouth.”
“I wanted to stick my dick in her ass,” the dude with the scraggly beard says.
“Be patient, friends.” Sinner’s lips tug up. “There will be plenty of hot, young pussy available tonight. And lots of nice, tight ass. Just how I like it.”
I know exactly which young girls he’s referring to, and I fucking hope Diesel and the team intervene before it gets to that part of the night, because I will slaughter every single one of those sick perverts before letting them lay a hand on those poor women. “You’re disgusting pigs.” I dig my nails into Saint’s arm and mentally count to ten in my head.
“You just don’t know what it’s like to be with real men,” Sinner says, yanking me from Saint’s grip.
“And you don’t know the English language,” Saint hisses, yanking me back. “She’s my wife. Our wife. And we’re not sharing her.” Saint pushes his face up in his father’s. “I don’t know how to state it more clearly.”
“Oh, I got the message loud and clear last time, son.” Sinner grabs Saint’s chin, but I push him off.
“Don’t fucking touch him.”
Sinner laughs. “You’re all so uptight.” He throws his hands around. “It’s a time for celebration. We’re the Kings of the world.” He hoots, and his cronies join in, whooping and hollering, and the urge to murder them all in cold blood is riding me hard.
One of the hired staff mans the front door, letting more Sainthood members inside. So far, I haven’t spotted a single woman, and my unease grows.
“You’re the belle of the ball, my dear,” Sinner adds. “Enjoy your moment. You’ve earned it.” He flashes me that obnoxious shit-eating grin of his, and a nasty shiver rockets up my spine.
Dread blossoms to life in my chest, because there’s no mistaking the double meaning.
CHAPTER 44
BRY IS ONE of the last to arrive, and he plops into the vacant seat at our table. “This looks cozy,” he murmurs, surveying the room with sharp eyes. “And like an ambush.”
“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” Saint says, slowly raising the beer bottle to his lips.
Not drinking would look suspicious as fuck, but we’re wary Sinner may have spiked our drinks. So, the guys have switched out the beers in the bucket in the middle of the table, and we’re only sipping our drinks, giving the illusion we’re getting drunk along with the degenerates, when we have every intention of remaining sober. We need clear heads to beat Sinner at his game tonight.
“I was wondering how long it’d take you to revert to form, nephew.” Bry plucks a bottle from the bucket with a smug grin, leaning back in his chair.