Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games Book 2)
Chapter 18

It’s close to noon by the time Marcus and I finally emerge from the bedroom. We replace Theo and Ryland in the kitchen, and my stomach does a strange little flip-flop when I see them.

I can still feel the events of last night everywhere on my body, as if they’ve been permanently imprinted on my skin. When Ryland rises from his barstool and palms the back of my head before kissing me, it strikes me how much things really have changed.

Again.

Theo swoops in for a kiss as Ryland sits back down, and Marcus and I settle at the kitchen island. There are eggs and bacon that someone—probably Theo—cooked up, and we serve ourselves and grab some coffee. My stomach growls as I sprinkle on a little salt. I haven’t eaten since before the party last night, and I’m starving.

But I almost choke on my first bite when Theo glances over at Marcus and asks, “So, when’s the wedding?”

Marcus stiffens, and I chug hot coffee to try to keep from choking to death. There’s a scraping noise, and I realize that Ryland kicked Theo’s stool under the island.

Theo holds up his hands, shaking his head. “Hey, I just wanted to know what date I need to murder Victoria by, that’s all. We need to know what we’re dealing with. What kind of timeline we’re on.”

That’s the second time in less than twenty-four hours that one of these men has vowed to kill the elegant auburn-haired woman, and I don’t really care what it says about me that I like that.

“He’s got a point,” Ryland grunts. “I’m surprised she didn’t try to get a priest to do the honors while you were lying in bed all fucked up on pain meds and less likely to tell her to go fuck herself.”

Marcus’s jaw clenches. “That wouldn’t have given her what she wanted. This is a stunt. Something meant to cause waves and get people talking. Speculating. Everyone already knows the three of us won’t turn on each other, and now she’s trying to position herself as part of that. And she needed Luca to witness our engagement so that the wedding itself would seem halfway legitimate.”

“So then what timeline are we looking at?” Theo purses his lips.

I set my fork down next to my half-finished eggs. I really wish Theo had brought this up after we ate, although I know we can’t put off talking about it. But my stomach is now such a hard lump that the idea of eating anything makes me feel a little queasy.

“A month.” Marcus shoves his plate away too. “Maybe a little more. I’m sure she’ll want it done before the next game begins so she’ll have a shield against attack from any of us.”

“I think she’s counting way too heavily on our sense of honor,” Ryland grunts, anger resonating in his voice. “Thinking a fucking marriage license is gonna keep one of us from putting a bullet in her head.”

“No, she’s not.” I speak up suddenly, and all three men turn to look at me. I bite my lip. “She’s not stupid. And she knows you guys aren’t either. She’s not counting on your honor to save her. She’s counting on the fact that it would be suicide to kill her.”

“Angel.” Marcus’s jaw clenches.

I glance around our small group, meeting each of their gazes. “What would happen if someone murdered another competitor outside of the allotted seventy-two-hour window?”

There’s a moment of silence, as if none of them want to answer. Then Theo clears his throat. “Their life would be forfeit. They’d be killed, or hunted down and then killed if they tried to run.”

A shiver runs up my spine at his words, but I forge ahead. “And what do you think would happen if a husband killed his wife during the allotted window? Do you think Luca would stand for that?”

Marcus’s nostrils flare, and my mind flashes back to the promise he made me last night. I don’t doubt for a second that he’d kill Victoria rather than marry her.

But I don’t know if I can let him do that.

Two weeks of not knowing whether he was alive or dead nearly killed me. I can’t fucking lose him again.

“No,” Ryland says finally, his voice heavy in the quiet that’s descended on the kitchen. “He loved his wife. He fuckin’ worshipped her. I don’t think he’d stand for it.”

“Doesn’t mean one of us couldn’t kill her,” Theo says, a bloodthirsty note to his voice.

I nod. “Yeah. Maybe. But it’s risky. I’m sure Luca knows you guys are close. He probably won’t buy that one of you went behind Marcus’s back to kill his wife. He’ll know Marcus was behind it. Victoria changed the game entirely when she brought marriage into it.”

Marcus visibly winces at the word, and it falls from my tongue like a drop of poison. I grip the edge of the island with my hand, fingers digging into the smooth marble.

“What are you saying, angel? What are you getting at?” he asks, his voice low and hard.

My stomach twists. I’m trying to think through this rationally, but I can’t bring myself to speak the words we’re all thinking out loud.

Marcus might not have a choice.

Not if he wants to live.

“I’m saying…” I swallow. “I want to talk to her. Just me and her.”

“What?”

“Fuck, no!”

“Are you insane?”

The chorus of words comes so quickly that I can’t sort out who says what, but it’s easy enough to figure out how they all feel about my idea. They fucking hate it.

Their barrage of “no” continues for another second until I raise my hand, palm out.

“One of you can come with me,” I say quickly. “You’ll have to. I have no idea where she lives, and I doubt she’ll see me unless one of you gets me in. But I need to talk to her. Woman to woman.”

“She’s not a woman, Rose. She’s a pit viper.” Theo’s voice holds no trace of humor as he stands up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, whatever she is, she’s not like any of the other competitors in the game,” I insist. “She’s got tits and a vagina, and so do I. She’s obviously playing this game differently than anyone else, and we need to know what she wants. Maybe there’s a bargain that can be struck, something we can do to get her to drop this engagement. Because if she forces your hand…” My gaze slides to Marcus, and I let him see the raw pain on my face, for once not even trying to hide my emotions around him. Not like I used to. “I’m not letting you die over this.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his expression hard to read. I can practically hear Ryland’s teeth grinding together, and I know he’s probably regretting the day he let me get involved in this shit at all.

But I meant what I said. Victoria is playing a different angle than any of the men in the game are. She brought her own fucking deck of cards, and I’ve got a better chance of being able to play against her than they do.

Because I get it. As much as I despise her, I fucking get it.

She was thrust into a violent competition with astronomical stakes against a bunch of burly alpha men, and while she’s obviously no weakling, she must’ve realized that her odds of winning are greater off the battlefield than on it.

Her best odds of winning are by manipulating the game itself into her favor.

Marcus is quiet for so long that it makes my skin prickle uncomfortably. I remember my blowup with Ryland over whether or not I should be involved in all of this. I’ll go toe-to-toe with Marcus about it if I have to, but I really don’t fucking want to.

He’s supposed to be healing. And I have a feeling if the two of us fight about this, it’s gonna be long and messy and painful as fuck. I feel like an exposed nerve right now, all my emotions too close to the surface, and I can see the same look in his eyes.

Finally, he clenches his hand into a fist. “Okay. You want to talk to her? Fine. But I’m coming with you, angel, and if she so much as lays a goddamn finger on you, I’ll end her right then and there.”

I nod, my stomach relaxing a little.

He hates it, but he’ll let me try. It’s the best I’m gonna get.

Theo and Ryland stay home while Marcus borrows Theo’s car to take me to Victoria’s place.

They both wanted to come, but I knew the odds of violence erupting would increase exponentially with all three of them there with me. They’re all fucking pissed at Victoria, and they’ve all been under a fuckton of strain over the past few weeks. They’re on a hair-trigger, and it’s not worth taking that risk.

Marcus is silent on the drive over, stewing in his own thoughts. I couldn’t say exactly what they are, but his grip on the steering wheel is so tight that I’m pretty sure he’s imagining it’s Victoria’s neck.

She lives closer to Theo’s place than I expected, and the drive only takes us twenty minutes. It makes me wonder how many of the other competitors live in the same general area of Halston.

It wouldn’t surprise me. The city is pretty divided between the “haves” and the “have nots,” and everyone in the game is wealthy and well-connected somehow.

When Marcus pulls up outside her place, I stare out the window at it, blinking in surprise. Not because of how huge and elaborate it is, but because it’s neither of those things. It’s nice—modern and classy—but from the way Victoria carried herself at the party last night, I would’ve expected her to live in a fucking palace.

She carried herself like a queen. Like someone who’s had everything she could ever want handed to her all her life. But that’s not true. I remember what Theo told me about her, how she grew up with practically nothing before her family found their way into massive amounts of wealth.

Maybe that’s why her house isn’t some monstrosity dripping in gold. People who know what it’s like to go hungry tend to value what they have more than people who’ve never wanted for anything—at least, in my experience.

They’re also scrappy as fuck, which is normally a quality I admire. But it’s hard to muster up even grudging respect when this bitch wants to marry the man I’m falling in love with.

Marcus cuts the engine, then turns to me, his eyes burning. “You sure about this, angel?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation or doubt in my voice.

He curses under his breath. “Dammit. I swore to fuckin’ god I was done letting you step in front of bullets for me. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s what Victoria is. She’s a stray goddamn bullet.”

“No,” I say dryly, echoing my words from back in Theo’s kitchen. “She’s a woman.”

The men all know Victoria better than I do. But I can relate to her on a level they can’t.

Not that I think we’re gonna braid each other’s hair and paint each other’s nails like this is a fucking slumber party, but maybe she’ll say something to me that she wouldn’t say to them. Maybe she’ll let me see some opening, some hint of weakness.

“Right. Let’s get this shit over with.” Marcus scrubs a hand through his hair before shoving open his door.

He eases out of the car gingerly, and I wonder how much pain he’s in. He told me he spent the first week at Victoria’s place so out of it that the whole thing is a blur, but he improved rapidly after that.

Still, I worry that he’ll push too hard or too fast in his recovery and fuck himself up worse.

He opens my door for me, then leads me up the walk toward Victoria’s house. His grip on my hand is bruising, and his shoulders are rigid and tight. My stomach churns with unease as he raps sharply on the door with his knuckles.

I hope this isn’t a huge fucking mistake.