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Anger was making it hard to concentrate. Kohl had lied to me, nearly fucking killed me, killed Jenna. But they were still Kohl. My Kohl.
They’d lied to me. They’d fucking lied to me. And they’d nearly killed me because of it.
“Vic, baby, please—let me make it up to you.”
They were breathtaking, better than a fucking painting.
“Beg,” I demanded. “Beg for me, and maybe I’ll consider forgiving you for the time being.”
Destroy me in front of the entire world. I don’t care who sees, as long as you forgive me.”
“Always and only you. Ever since I met you for the first time, I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”
“I’m a romantic, Vic. What can I say?”
It should’ve been me.
“Do that again,” she’d gasped. There was such a strong command in her tone. One Dylan ignored, but not me. I’d never ignore a command that fell from the perfect lips of my goddess.
It’s what she deserved. Complete and total submission.
The obsession I had for her just continued to grow and grow, until there was no one in my mind but her, and I couldn’t bring myself to care.
If it was the last thing I did, Vic would be mine.
Classic Kohl and Vic, of course. We couldn’t tear down the walls between us until it was life or death. God, we were so fucked up.
Kohl was more than just my best friend—even if they’d been a bit of a fuck-up this year. It was always going to be like this. They were always my everything. My knight in shining armor.
I had a taste of her once, but this… this was something different entirely. It was a bittersweet feeling that it had to happen now after all this time. Especially since we were supposed to be out for each other’s throats. But I never took myself as a rule follower.
Dylan’s eyes were watching mine. There was a warning in them. He was warning me that if I didn’t tell him what was going on, he sure as hell was going to find it out on his own. He could try, but I’d protect Vic with everything I had.
Blond hair and a distinctly South Asian nose.
pause
“What, Dyl, scared I’m going to steal your woman?” Dylan laughed, rolling his eyes as he offered his hand to me. But I saw it, the uncertainty. He knew as well as I did that I was too fucking good for him.
Dylan wasn’t here to save our family legacy. He was here to cut the loose end. Fuck. Why? Hadn’t he taken enough? Was killing her really necessary?
“Kohl chokes me harder than that when we fuck,” I taunted, my voice hoarse. “You’re losing your touch, Wolff.”
A shot rang out. Blood splattered across my face. I hadn’t realized I had shut my eyes in preparation for my murder until Dylan’s body fell on me with a hard thud. “God, he was fucking annoying.”
“For Christ’s sake, Kohl, he’s your brother. Isn’t it enough for you to just be in my life?” No. Not when I want to touch you like this. Not when I can see the way you are looking at me, and I know that it would feel ten times better to touch you than it does him. Not when I can see my future staring at me behind your eyes.
“You got this,” I vowed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Remember? I’ll give my life for yours? And that includes making it out of here with more money than you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s me and you, forget about everyone else.”
“Hurt me, Vic. I can see you’re spinning out.” They cupped their hands around the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss. “Let me give you an outlet. Hurt me like he hurt you.”
“Look at me when I’m fucking talking to you.”
“Yes, my goddess.” We really were a fucked-up pair.
Their eyes lifted to mine—that’s when I saw it. Kohl wasn’t just enjoying this. No, Kohl was having the time of their fucking life. Our games played into the same dark, twisted parts of them that they did with me. The masochistic little freak.
I wouldn’t just destroy Kohl. No, I would make them anew. Mold them like clay into something else entirely.
But I didn’t need their help to ruin Kohl. I knew exactly how I wanted them to fall apart for me.
“Or do you want me to hurt you, baby?”
I never thought I could hate my father more than I did, but that night solidified that some people, once they entered the games, left a part of themselves there.
“If our lives weren’t on the line, this may have been a bit romantic.”
“How many points do you think killing an Architect is worth, Wolff?”
I knew Hiram. He’d come to the house a few times for barbecues with his kids when I was little—his eldest son, Dylan, was a bit of a womanizing prick, but that would only make him easy to manipulate. Hurting me, that was one thing. But no one made my dad feel like he wasn’t good enough. Better watch out, Hiram. I’m coming for you.
“Whoever kills Hiram will get paid out a million dollars, regardless of whether you win the games,” she said, her lips twisted. “Hell, I’ll even cut the check myself. If you can make me laugh while you’re doing it, I’ll double it.” She was the most twisted and evil thing I’d ever seen… and I fucking loved it.
