All three of my men stiffen at her words. They sound so strange coming out of her mouth, something I would’ve expected to hear Gabriel or Michael say, not her. I’ve only met her a few times, but she always seemed polished and smooth, like someone who understands how much appearances matter and has carefully cultivated hers.
But right now, none of that careful control is evident.
“What do you want?”
The words sound like they’re ripped from Marcus’s mouth, like they’re covered in broken glass.
“I want you.” Victoria jerks her chin toward him. “All three of you. You heard what Luca said just as well as I did. I can end this right now, and if you don’t make it difficult, I’ll let Ayla live.”
My stomach drops, panic beating against my ribs. She’s trying to bargain with them. My life for theirs.
I can’t let them take that deal.
Even if I thought she would keep her word, I can’t let them take it. I can’t fucking lose them.
Marcus’s jaw clenches. He and the other two men all still have their weapons, but I know they don’t have a clear shot. And no chance of taking one with Victoria’s finger on the trigger and her gun gouging into my temple. His gaze flicks left and right as he shares a look with Theo and Ryland, and fear turns my veins ice-cold.
He’s considering it.
“Wait!” I blurt out.
“What?”
Victoria growls the word, pressing the gun even harder into my skin like she’s trying to remind me how close I am to death. As if I could fucking forget.
“Why do you want to win the game so bad?” I ask, swallowing around the golf ball sized lump in my throat. Fear has turned my mouth dry as dust.
As terrifying as Adrian and his team were, this is somehow worse. If Victoria followed him here alone, she must’ve known she wouldn’t be able to take on all three of the guys at once. But she also knew she wouldn’t have to.
Not if she could get her hands on me.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” She laughs harshly. “Why do I want to win? Haven’t these assholes explained any of this to you? If I win, I get control of Halston. I get to run this fucking city.”
“That’s not the only reason though, is it?” I press.
I could be totally off-base, but there’s no time to second-guess myself now. I can feel something different in her.
A desperation, a wildness.
I know why the men and I are desperate, but Victoria should have no reason to be. She’s usually so cool and collected, and she’s got the upper hand right now. She should be basking in her power over us, but instead, I can feel her body trembling slightly behind mine.
Something is wrong, and whatever it is, it’s throwing her off balance.
Her wild emotions make her dangerous, but they also make her vulnerable.
“Why do you want to win so bad, Victoria?” I press when she doesn’t answer my previous question. “Whatever it is you want, maybe we can help you. Maybe we can give you—”
“Shut up. You can’t give me anything,” she hisses, her fingers digging into my arm as she tightens her grip on my torso. “You can’t help me. No one can fucking help me. That’s why I need to win.”
Now I’m sure I didn’t imagine it. There’s a strain in her voice, fear or panic or something.
“Help you with what?” I press again.
“Shut up!” Her voice is loud and harsh in my ear, and she turns toward me more fully, her lips curling back. “I told you to shut the fuck up!”
It’s only a small shift in her stance.
A small opening.
But Marcus takes it.
He moves so fast it’s like a blur of motion, sprinting toward us and throwing himself at Victoria. I dive to the side as his body collides with hers, a gunshot ringing out so close to my head it makes my ears ring painfully. The bullet grazes my cheek, and I land with a heavy thud on the floor, unable to get my good arm around to brace my fall.
Marcus pins Victoria, his larger body holding her down as the other two men rush forward. Even Dominic hobbles toward us, still bound at the ankles and wrists.
Victoria lets out a sharp scream as she grapples for the gun, throwing all her weight into the struggle. But Marcus wrests it from her hands, straddling her waist as he expertly flips the weapon in his grip, bracing the butt in one palm as he aims at her head.
With a shock, I realize he’s about to pull the trigger.
“No!”
I throw myself toward them, shoving Marcus’s arms to the side just as the shot fires. The ringing in my ears intensifies, and I’m sure Victoria’s are ringing just as loudly. But the bullet misses her face, penetrating the heavy wood of the floor next to her head.
“What the fuck?” Marcus looks up sharply at me, something almost like anger on his face.
He once promised me he’d kill Victoria before he ever had to marry her, and he’s probably wondering why I just robbed him of that chance. He fixes the gun on her again, still pinning her with the weight of his body, sitting on her to keep her in place.
Theo and Ryland both have their weapons trained on her too, and all three of them look at me as Marcus growls, “We need to take care of her, Ayla. It’s the only way.”
“Wait,” I say again, repeating the same plea I made when Victoria was about to shoot me.
Marcus’s entire body radiates a feral, dangerous rage, but he clenches his jaw and does as I ask, resting his finger on the trigger as he glares down at the woman beneath him.
My gaze lands on her too. Unlike us, she’s changed since the party at Luca’s. She’s no longer wearing the show-stopping dress she had on earlier, but a pair of dark pants and a dark long-sleeved shirt.
Her hair auburn hair is tied back in a tight ponytail, and she stares up at Marcus, meeting his gaze unflinchingly.
There’s something in her eyes that makes my stomach tighten. Something dull and lifeless, a willingness to accept death. To embrace it, even.
I step closer, standing close to Ryland as I look down at her.
“Are you gonna answer my question now?” I ask evenly. “Because if you don’t, I don’t know how much longer I can keep one of these guys from putting a bullet between your eyes. I don’t know how much longer I’ll even try. But I want to know. What’s in it for you if you win? Why are you so fucking desperate for it? Is it just for the power?”
Her green eyes dart sideways quickly as she looks at me. Ignoring the gun that still hovers a few inches from her face, she holds my gaze.
“I want the power,” she says quietly. “It’s the only way I can save him.”
“Who?”
Her jaw clenches like she’s trying to bite back the answer, but this time, I don’t press her. I know she can feel the threat emanating from all of the men, and since she answered my first question, I have a feeling she’ll keep talking.
“Jaden and I knew each other before my family ever had money,” she finally says. “We fell in love after my dad got rich, but I didn’t fucking care that he didn’t have what I had. We had each other. That was enough.”
Tears gather in her eyes as she speaks, but her voice stays steady, her expression hard—like someone who long ago learned to function through pain and grief.