Chapter 3

Ivy’s POV

My back hit Julian’s chest. He was solid, unyielding, a wall of muscle behind me. Dante stood in front, closing the distance until the tips of his shoes touched mine.

"Let me pass, Dante," I said, trying to inject authority into my voice. It came out as a breathless squeak.

Dante chuckled, a dark, rumbling sound. He reached out, his rough thumb tracing the line of my jaw. His touch seared my skin. "Let you pass? We just found you. It’s been six years, Ivy. You don't get to just walk away again."

"I’m married," I blurted out. It was a desperate shield, a flimsy defense.

The temperature in the hallway dropped ten degrees.

Silas stepped out of the shadows. He had been watching, silent and lethal. He walked toward us, his movements fluid and terrifying. He stopped inches from me, forcing Dante to step back slightly, but not enough to give me an escape route.

Silas looked down at me, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "We know," he said. His voice was calm, which made it scarier. "Grant Moore. The Senator’s golden boy."

He reached out and grabbed my left hand, lifting it to inspect the diamond ring on my finger. He looked at it with disgust, then his eyes snapped back to mine. "Where is he, Ivy? Why is his wife in a place like this, dressed like..." His eyes raked over my body, lingering on the cleavage exposed by the low neckline. "...a distraction?"

"He's working," I lied.

"Liar," Julian whispered in my ear. His hands moved to my hips, gripping them firmly. "We own this city, Ivy. We know exactly where your husband is. He’s at the Sapphire Hotel with a redhead."

The humiliation stung, even coming from them. Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "If you know, then you know why I’m here. I’m minding my own business."

"Is that what this is?" Silas released my hand, but he didn't step back. He stepped closer. "Rebellion? You think coming here, drinking our liquor, and flashing your body to these wolves is going to hurt him?"

"It’s none of your business," I snapped.

"Everything you do is our business," Dante growled. "It always was. You just forgot."

"I didn't forget!" I shouted, the anger finally breaking through the fear. "You told me to leave! You told me I wasn't welcome!"

"We told you to stay safe," Silas corrected, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "We told you to find a life that wouldn't get you killed. Did you find it, Ivy? Is this it?" He gestured to the dark hallway, to my trembling form. "Are you happy?"

"I hate you," I whispered.

"Good," Silas said. "Hate is better than indifference."

He nodded to his brothers.

Before I could react, Julian spun me around. "Where are we going?" I panicked.

"Somewhere private," Julian said, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "You wanted to walk on the wild side, Ivy? You wanted to rebel? Be careful what you wish for."

They didn't drag me, but they guided me with a force that made it clear resistance was futile. They marched me down the hall, past the 'Employees Only' sign, and into a private executive suite at the back of the club.

The door clicked shut, the lock turning with a heavy thud.

The room was soundproofed. The thumping music from the club faded into a dull vibration in the floor. It was just the four of us. The air was thick with tension, unspoken history, and a sexual charge so potent it made my knees weak.

Silas walked to a leather couch and sat down, spreading his legs, watching me. Dante leaned against the door, crossing his arms, blocking the only exit. Julian walked over to a small bar in the corner and poured a drink.

"Drink," Julian said, offering me the glass.

I shook my head. "I want to go home."

"No, you don't," Silas said. "If you wanted to go home, you would have stayed there." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "You came here looking for something to numb the pain. You came looking for trouble."

He patted the spot on the couch next to him.

"Sit."

It wasn't a request. It was a command. My body reacted before my brain did. I took a step toward him.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Because," Dante pushed off the door and stalked toward me, stopping just behind my back. "Your husband broke you. And we don't like it when other people break our things."

My breath hitched. "I'm not your thing."

"Aren't you?" Silas’s dark eyes bored into my soul. "You were ours long before you met him. And tonight... tonight we're going to remind you of that."

He reached out, his hand wrapping around my wrist, and pulled. I stumbled, falling onto the couch next to him.

"You have two choices, Ivy," Silas murmured, his hand moving to rest on my thigh, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin. "You can walk out that door, go back to your empty house, and wait for your husband to finish screwing his assistant. Or..."

"Or what?" I breathed.

"Or you can stay here," Julian finished, kneeling in front of me, placing the drink in my shaking hands. "And let us ruin you for anyone else."

I looked at the three of them. The men I had loved. The men I had lost. The men who were dangerous in every way my husband wasn't.

I should run.

But as Silas’s hand slid higher up my thigh, I realized the terrifying truth.

I didn't want to run.