Beautiful Devils (Filthy Wicked Psychos, #2)

by Eva Ashwood

For all the readers who are just waiting for a morally gray anti-hero to put them on their knees and murmur… “That’s my good girl.”

The banter with Ransom, the all-consuming moments with Malice, the weird little truce/bond with Vic over peanut butter, of all things.

All my fear is for Willow. For the gorgeous angel who fell into our laps and then became so much more than a loose end. She’s stronger than she looks, I know that.

The three of them are walking shoulder to shoulder, as brutally handsome and intimidating as always. Ransom looks relieved, Victor’s face could be carved of marble, and Malice’s jaw is clenched so hard that the muscles in his cheeks are bulging.

Because even though our plan worked and we managed to protect Willow… We lost her too.

I hate hearing him say that. I hate the way some part of me is glad to know that I’m like an addiction to him—because he and his brothers feel like one to me too.

Mal always tries to put on a front like he’s too tough to give a shit. And he is the toughest motherfucker I know, that’s real. But when he cares about something—or someone—he cares with his whole fucking heart. I know, because I’m one of the few people in the world he feels that way about.

“I’ll just walk up to him at his fucking country club or whatever. ‘Top of the goddamned morning to you, sir,’ and all that.”

I look down at her, noticing the way the wind stirs her delicate blonde hair, the strands catching the light and glowing like gold. Fuck, she really does look like an angel.

So I’ll just have to live with the consequences of it, even if it means Willow hates me forever. At least she’ll be alive and in one piece to do it.

Ransom grins, slow and sure, one side of his mouth quirking up higher than the other in a way that makes him look sexy and rakish. Malice’s eyes seem to burn as he stares at me, and it’s as if he can see right through me, making my stomach flutter. Victor’s gaze is more assessing. There’s no obvious heat in his expression, not the way there is with Malice and Ransom, but there’s something approving in the way he studies me, as if he’s already found the most beautiful piece of art in the entire museum.

“Ya yeshche nikogo tak ne khotel, kak tebya,”

But I keep giving in to these men. Giving in to the part of me that can’t stay away from them, the part that craves their darkness. And it’s maddening.

“You don’t have to believe anything else my brothers or I say, but believe that. If you want to be in this life, to be a part of this world, then they’d be fucking lucky to have you.”

I missed every-fucking-thing about her. And now I’m gonna show her just how much.

These men make me hungry in a way I never was before, like they’re an addiction I just can’t quit.

His mouth is hot and hungry, and it’s like I can feel the truth of the words he said earlier in every brush of his lips on mine. He did miss me. He does want this.

“Fucking hell.” Ransom groans, his head tipping back. “I would say you’re killing me, pretty girl, but I think I must’ve already died and gone to heaven.”

“You know Vic doesn’t always like to be touched, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you.”

Before I’m all the way asleep, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text, blinking at it blearily. It’s from Vic, and it’s just two words. VICTOR: You’re beautiful.

There was something appealing in that, in being the observer to it all, but it’s nothing compared to how this feels. This is for me. Just me and Willow and no one else. She’s so perfect.

But Willow just hums, and it seems like she doesn’t need me to have the right words. She understands me better than most, and that should be… irritating, at the very least. Maybe even terrifying. Instead, it just feels almost comforting.

“Goodnight, Vic.” “Goodnight, butterfly.” I end the call, but I don’t look away from the screen.

I catch myself looking around when I leave classes, half expecting Ransom to come sauntering up to me, trying to smooth things over with his charming smile and some joke about how Malice doesn’t know how to talk to people. Or Malice himself lurking in the shadows between buildings or waiting in my apartment when I get home, not apologizing since he clearly doesn’t do that, but trying to move past it.

“You’re not a pawn,” he tells me, his voice lowered. “You never have been. You’re a fucking queen. You’re the only person in this whole goddamned world who could bring me to my knees. The only person who’s ever crawled inside my soul.”

“Ya zhe govoril, chto ne otpushchu tebya,” he murmurs in Russian. “Ya ne mogu. Nikogda ne smogu.”

“Fuck, you taste so goddamned good. No one else can have you, do you understand me? No one else. You belong to us. With us. And if anyone thinks they can take you away—”

“I need to be inside you,” he pants. “Right now. Or I might fucking die.”

He smiles, and his eyes soften a little. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen him smile like this, warm and almost tender. For Malice, anyway.

“There aren’t a lot of people in the world who would say that,” he admits. “But I’m glad you’re one of them, Solnyshka.”

I’m pretty sure most people my age are using dating apps or meeting at bars, not winding up in entanglements with men they witnessed murder someone.

So it’s good that you meet him where he’s at and let him be himself. He’s more attached to you than you probably even know. Vic may not always know how to show it or say it, but he cares about you a whole fucking lot.”

“And what about you?” “Me?” He chuckles, flashing me his gorgeous grin. “I’m falling head over heels for you, angel.”

“There’s a lot of shit going wrong in our lives these days, but you’re the best thing about any of it. And we need to do something fun. We’re gonna take you out.”

“Jesus. Only the two of you would have this much sexual tension while standing several feet apart, fully clothed.”

“You let us take your virginity,” Ransom muses, sliding his finger deeper. “And you did it so beautifully. Maybe one day you’ll let one of us be the first to fuck you here too.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you, Solnyshka,” he murmurs. “You’re fucking… unbreakable.”

His words from earlier tonight filter through my mind, when we were talking about Vic in my bedroom. You’re good for him. Maybe that really is true. And no matter how long I spent trying to deny it, now that I’ve opened my heart up a little, I can see that the other side of that is true too. These men are good for me.

“Nah.” I shake my head. “For once, there’s no crisis. I just… wanted to see you. I missed you. I feel like I’m always missing you these days. I got used to having you in my bed every night, and now you’re not there anymore.”

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” she says, her voice firm in the dimly lit kitchen. “I think you’re so strong. I think you’re amazing, Vic. Your father was horrible to you, and you’re still here. You’re smart and resilient, and it always seems like there’s nothing you can’t do. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that, but you’re not a freak and you’re not broken.”

It was so hot. Possibly the hottest kiss of my life.

“I guess. Vic made me food.” Malice snorts. “He does that. When in doubt, cook something.”

“You didn’t mess up. Vic’s got a whole shitload of demons he’s dealing with, and that’s just how life is for him. But he cares about you, and nothing’s gonna change that. Same goes for all of us.”

Interwoven with the 2 and the 4 are three sets of initials: MV, RV, and VV.

“I never wanted a woman to be mine before,” he murmurs gruffly. “Never wanted a woman to be ours. Until I met you.”

“People like that aren’t worth your time,” he says finally. “You’re worth a hundred of her, and you would be even if you didn’t have a penny to your name. I hope you know that.”

He sounds like he’s on the verge of losing his shit entirely, and I know he and Vic are thinking the same thing I am. We can’t fucking lose her.

One man. Ten men. Doesn’t fucking matter. I’ll kill them all if I have to, to get her back.

It’s like coming home, having the three of them here, feeling the connection that flows like water between us, and the fear and adrenaline that was coursing through me finally starts to ebb for good as my mind and body come to terms with the fact that I’m safe now.

That’s not where I belong. This is. Right here.