Chapter 4

Pearl POV

The room went deadly silent. Reaper swore under his breath.

Brick looked like he wanted to disappear.

The man’s expression shifted from suspicious to something almost resembling... respect?

"Flinn's daughter," he said slowly. "Heard you'd run off to California. What brings you back to this shithole?"

"My father's funeral," I said coldly. "And finding out who killed him."

"And you thought we did it?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Sweetheart, if we'd wanted Flinn dead, he would've died years ago. We had an understanding, him and me."

"Then who?" I demanded, frustration bleeding through. "Who wanted him dead?"

Venom studied me for a long moment. "You really don't know, do you? Flinn kept you in the dark about a lot of things."

"Then enlighten me."

He shook his head. "That’s not my place. But I'll tell you this for free, you're playing a dangerous game, little girl. Walking into enemy territory, asking questions you're not ready to hear the answers to. You're going to get yourself killed." He said. The warning was screaming at me but I wasn't heeding to it or planning to.

"I don't care," I said fiercely. "He was my father. I deserve to know why he's dead."

"And what about that stepbrother of yours? Zander?" His eyes gleamed. "Does he know you're here?"

My silence was answer enough.

Venom sighed. "Go home, Pearl. Mourn your father and leave the revenge to the people who know how to handle it."

"I'm not leaving until I get answers."

"Stubborn, just like your father." He moved back to his desk, dismissing me. "Reaper, take her home.” He said,then turned to me.

“Don't come back here. Next time, I might not be so understanding."

As Reaper grabbed my arm to escort me out, he added, "And tell Zander he needs to keep a better eye on his little sister. Things are about to get messy, and she's too pretty to end up in a ditch somewhere."

***

I walked up the stairs leading to the house robotically, my mind reeling with questions.

I was about to open the door when it swung open.

Zander stood in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw clenched and looking extremely furious.

"Where. The. Hell. Have you been?" He punctuated every word.

His eyes then raked over my outfit, lingering on the exposed skin of my midriff, the way my jeans hugged my hips, the swell of my breasts barely contained by the leather crop top.

I watched his expression shift from anger to something darker, more primal.

Heat pooled low in my belly despite my frustration.

"Out," I said defiantly, pushing past him into the house.

His hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist and spinning me back to face him. The door slammed shut behind us, his breath hot on my face.

"Try again." He said in a dangerous rumble that sent shivers down my spine.

"What are you, my keeper?" I tried to yank my arm free but his grip tightened.

"Were you at the Viper's Den?" The look on his face resembled someone’s barely holding himself back.

I lifted my chin defiantly. "What if I was?"

"What if you—" His other hand came up to grip my hip, fingers digging into the bare skin where my crop top ended. "Are you out of your goddamn mind, Pearl? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you? What they could've done to you?"

The possessiveness in his voice made my core clench. This wasn't brotherly concern. This was something raw and territorial.

"I can take care of myself," I breathed, hating how my voice came out breathy instead of strong.

"Clearly!" He backed me to the wall.

"That's why Venom himself just called to tell me to keep my 'little sister' on a leash!"

The way he spat out 'little sister' told me everything I needed to know. He hated that word as much as I did.

"I don't need you or anyone else protecting me. I need answers, Zander. I need to know who killed my father!"

"And you thought waltzing into a rival club dressed like…" He stopped himself, his gaze dropping to my exposed midriff again, then lower, tracing the curve of my hips, the length of my legs. When his eyes met mine again, they were dark with barely restrained desire. "Dressed like every man's wet dream was the way to do it?"

My breath hitched. "Dressed like what?" I challenged, my voice dropping to something sultry despite my anger. "Say what you really mean, Zander."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking. "Like you're begging to be fucked."

The crude words sent a jolt of arousal straight to my core.

My nipples hardened beneath the thin leather and I knew he could see it. His eyes dropped to my chest, and a low growl rumbled in his throat.

"Is that what you think?" I whispered, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. I could feel his heart pounding beneath my palms. "That I got dressed up for them?"

"Didn't you?" His hand on my hip slid around to the small of my back, pressing me harder against the wall and trapping me with his body.

I could feel every inch of him, including the hard ridge of his cock pressing against my stomach.

"Maybe," I breathed, watching his eyes darken further. "Or maybe I wanted to see if you'd notice." I decided to press some buttons.

"Notice?" He laughed harshly, almost bitter.

"Princess, I've noticed every goddamn thing about you since the day I walked into your life. The way you look at me when you think I'm not watching. The way your breath catches when I get too close. The way you squeeze your thighs together when I'm around."

My face flushed hot. He had noticed. Of course he had noticed.

"You're my stepbrother," I said weakly.

"Is that why you ran to California?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Because you couldn't handle what you felt for me? Because every time I looked at you, you wanted to drop to your knees?"

A whimper escaped my throat before I could stop it. His hand slid up my spine, tangling in my hair.

"That's what I thought," he murmured against my neck. "You can lie to yourself all you want, Pearl. But your body doesn't lie to me."

"Zander..." I didn't know if I was protesting or begging.

His other hand came up to wrap around my throat—not squeezing, just holding, claiming.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me seeing you in this outfit?

Knowing you let other men look at you? Touch you?"

"They didn't touch me," I gasped.

"But they wanted to." His thumb stroked along my pulse point, feeling how fast my heart was racing. "They looked at what's mine and thought they had a chance."

"I'm not yours." That came out as a weak protest.

"Aren't you?" His lips ghosted along my jawline, never quite kissing, just teasing. "Then why are you so wet right now, Princess? Why can I smell how much you want me?"

I should've been embarrassed, I should've pushed him away. Instead, I arched into him, my hands fisting in his shirt.

"This is wrong," I whispered, even as my body betrayed every word.

His hand tightened on my throat. "But when has that ever stopped either of us from wanting it?"

He was right.

I'd run to California to escape it, and all I had done was make the wanting worse.

"Zander, please..." I was begging now, and I didn't even care.

"Please what?" His lips were a breath away from mine. "Please kiss you? Please throw you on that couch and make you scream my name? Please show you what it means to be mine?"

"Yes," I breathed. "All of it. I don't care anymore…"

He pulled back abruptly, releasing me so suddenly I almost collapsed. The loss of his touch was physically painful.

"No." His voice came out rough, strained. He took several steps back, running a hand through his dark hair. "Not like this. Not when you're grieving, reckless and not thinking straight."

I stared at him, chest heaving, body aching with unfulfilled need. "What?"

I couldn't believe him. After I even begged? He was turning me down? What happened to both of us wanting, craving this?

"When I finally have you, Pearl—and make no mistake, I will have you—” He started.

“ It won't be because you're hurting and looking for a distraction. It won't be something you regret in the morning." He adjusted himself, not even trying to hide his obvious arousal. "When you come to me, it'll be because you're ready to be mine. Completely. Consequences be damned."

I wanted to scream. To cry. To tackle him to the floor and take what we both so clearly wanted.

But underneath the frustration, a small part of me recognized that he was right. My emotions were a mess. My judgment was compromised. And if we crossed that line now, I might hate both of us for it later.

Zander stepped closer again, his hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. "When I finally get my hands on you properly, you're going to wish you'd never teased me. Because I'm going to ruin you for any other man."

Then he kissed my forehead and stepped away.

"Get some sleep in the meantime.” He said then his expression hardened. "And Pearl? If you ever pull a stunt like tonight again, I won't be responsible for what I do. To you, or to any man who dares look at you wrong."

With that, he walked away.

As I stared at his back, I realized that the line we'd been so careful not to cross for years was crumbling.

Inside my room, I closed my bedroom door and leaned against it, my hand sliding between my legs. I was soaked, aching, and desperate.