Sweet Retribution (Ruthless Games Book 2)

We keep watching each other as we slowly come down from the high. Finally, Marcus presses a gentle kiss to my lips and then drops his head to my shoulder. He kisses the spot he sucked on earlier, and the bruise he gave me is so pronounced already that I feel a hint of pain from the pressure of his lips.

Good.

A feral sort of pleasure rises up in me at the thought. I hope he managed to suck out a piece of my soul.

He already has my fucking heart.

Marcus’s arms steal around me, his fingertips tracing lazy patterns on my back as he cradles me against his body. I have a feeling he wishes he could pick me up and hold me in his arms, but I’m glad he doesn’t try. I don’t know the extent of his injuries from the bullets that hit him, and I don’t know where he’s at in his healing.

There’s so damn much I don’t know.

But right now, none of those things seem as important as sitting here wrapped up in Marcus, breathing him in.

“I meant what I said,” he murmurs finally, his breath warming my skin as he speaks. “I’ll find a way out of this. I won’t marry Victoria. Ever.” He pulls back then, his gaze serious, his jaw set. “I’ll kill her before I ever fucking marry her.”

He does mean it. There’s not an ounce of sarcasm or exaggeration in his voice.

I feel like I should tell him not to say that, but I can’t. The truth is, I think I’d kill her before I let him fucking marry her—and if that makes me as psychotic as Marcus, well, I guess we have more in common than I thought.

So I just nod, accepting his words at face value.

The situation is complicated and dangerous, even more so now that Luca undoubtedly knows about the engagement. I have a sudden memory of Theo telling me that the only person who could win this game through political cunning and social maneuvering alone is Victoria.

I can see why he thinks that.

She’s adopted a new strategy, binding herself to one of the other players through this forced engagement, effectively tying her fate to Marcus’s. And if Marcus follows through on his threat and kills her anytime outside of the allotted period of violence, the consequences will be dire.

Tension gathers in my shoulders as thoughts churn in my head, and Marcus makes a low sound, brushing his hands through my tangled hair. “I can see you thinking, angel. Hell, I can hear you thinking. What is it?”

“Just…” I huff out a humorless laugh, gesturing around us to encompass the whole house. The whole world. “Everything.”

He nods. “It’ll be all right. I promise.”

That’s not a promise he can keep, and we both know it. We’ve each got three bullet wounds apiece that disprove his statement. But hearing him say the words eases some of the tightness in my chest.

“Marcus?” My fingers slide through the hair at the nape of his neck, my nails gently scratching his scalp.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really fucking glad you didn’t die.”

My words are quiet. Simple. But their effect on the man in my arms is immediate. He smiles, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen on his face before. Even the pallor of his cheeks seems to lessen, the shadows beneath his eyes fading a little.

“How could I?” He traces the line of my jaw with his fingertips, his eyes warming. “I still owe you a hundred million heartbeats.”

He kisses me one more time, and just when I think we’ll never come up for air, he slowly breaks away, pulling out of me as he steps back. He tucks himself away and zips up his pants, adjusting his rumpled tux. Cum slips down my inner thigh, and he grabs one of the towels off the shelf and cleans me up before tossing it into the same corner where my panties landed.

When he moves to help me off the washing machine, he hisses out a pained breath, and I push his hands away, sliding off on my own and letting the fabric of my dress fall around my legs again. I look up at him, my concern growing deeper as I realize how truly reckless what we just did was.

Fuck, if I hurt him or set his healing back, I’ll never forgive myself.

As if he can read my thoughts, Marcus shakes his head. He grabs my chin and presses a hard, quick kiss to my lips.

“I’m all right,” he tells me firmly. “I’ve been healing well. It just hurts.”

I don’t like the sound of that last part at all, and I’m tempted to demand he strip off his jacket and shirt and let me examine his wounds, but before I can do that, he slips his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together.

“Come on,” he says softly, motioning with his chin toward the door. “Ryland and Theo are waiting.”

Right. The party.

Jesus, I can barely remember what our initial purpose was for coming here tonight. Everything got flipped sideways when Marcus walked through the door into the ballroom, and I’m still reeling a little.

Adrian Reyes.

We were going to try to put pressure on him. Theo said there’ve been several high profile losses for his dad’s law firm recently, so it’s possible his family is going through a rough time. We were going to try to leverage that weakness to our advantage.

It’s still a viable strategy, but with Marcus’s return, there’s been such a seismic shift in the game that I don’t know quite where things stand anymore.

But regardless, we can’t stay in this damn laundry room all night, as appealing as the idea might sound.

I nod, drawing in a deep breath. “How do I look?”

Marcus smirks, not an ounce of shame on his face. “Like you got fucked on a washer.”

I bite back the smile that tugs at my lips. The pride in his voice makes a little zap of pleasure shoot through me, and I realize I really don’t care what any of these rich, privileged, corrupt party guests think of me. And if my showing back up like this undermines the credibility of Marcus and Victoria’s sham engagement, so much the fucking better.

He holds the door open for me as we step out of the room, then leads me back through the wide hallways to the ballroom.

The party has continued unabated in our absence. People are still talking, drinking, and laughing as the orchestra plays in the background. My gaze settles immediately on Ryland and Theo. They’re on the far side of the ballroom, standing near Victoria, although they’re not speaking to her or even looking at her.

But I get the sense they know exactly where she is, and I also get the feeling that if she’d tried to follow after me and Marcus, she would’ve found two burly, intimidating men in her way.

My heart gives a little squeeze in my chest. I love that they look out for Marcus that way. That they look out for me that way.

I don’t know quite how it happened, but I somehow went from being alone to becoming part of a group that’s more tight knit than any I’ve ever seen, their loyalty to each other unwavering and constant.

That kind of loyalty is rare—mostly because it can’t be bought or won by threat. It has to be freely given.

I notice several heads turn in our direction as we make our way across the ballroom. Judging from the looks on people’s faces, I’m not the only one who was shocked by Marcus’s reappearance. Not everyone looks as happy about it as I am though.

As we approach Ryland and Theo, their hard expressions relax slightly and they step forward to join us.

“Everything okay?” Ryland asks seriously, while Theo just takes in my freshly fucked appearance and smirks.

“Yeah.” Marcus nods, and Ryland transfers his gaze to me, a question in his eyes.

“Yes.” I echo Marcus’s answer.

Victoria turns toward the four of us, and I swear I can feel hackles rise on the back of my neck as she strides over, her dress’s short train flowing elegantly behind her.

She looks like the kind of person who’s been wearing dresses like this her whole life, but I know it’s a practiced act. Unlike almost everyone here, she didn’t grow up surrounded by luxury and wealth.

That should probably make me like her more than I do.

She stops when she reaches us, the same cool smile I saw on her face earlier returning. Her gaze flicks over me quickly, and even though the glance doesn’t last more than a second, I get the feeling she’s just catalogued every single aspect of my appearance—my messy hair, the bruise on my neck, the pink flush to my skin.

But rather than commenting on it at all, she transfers her attention over to Marcus, holding out her hand. “Luca wants to congratulate us. Come with me.”

His fingers clench around mine, and I can physically feel how much he wants to tell her to go fuck herself, or maybe make good on his earlier promise to me and kill her right now.

But that won’t help any of us.

It would probably get us all killed.

And I just got him back. There’s no way I’m gonna lose him again so soon.

“Go,” I murmur.

Victoria’s gaze snaps to me quickly, her green eyes narrowing. She clearly doesn’t like me giving her future husband permission to do anything.

Well, suck my left tit, you bitch. Too fucking bad.

Marcus’s jaw clenches tight, his nostrils flaring. But he releases my hand and steps forward. Victoria turns on her heel, and the two of them make their way toward Luca.

I’m not sure I can watch this. It’s one thing to tell him to go, another thing entirely to witness him stand beside Victoria and announce his engagement.

But as it turns out, I don’t have much choice.

The orchestra stops playing a moment later, the crowd grows quiet as they register the lack of background music. There’s a small raised dais on one side of the room with a microphone, and Luca steps up to it, framed on either side by Marcus and Victoria.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he says, his deep voice filling the room. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak, and I can hear the echo of power in his gravelly voice. This is a man who’s used to giving orders and having them obeyed. “Perhaps some of you are surprised to see who has joined us tonight. As you can see, Marcus Constantine is, in fact, alive. And on the heels of that revelation, I have a wonderful announcement. I’ve just been informed that Victoria Tatum and Mr. Constantine are engaged to be married. Please join me in wishing them a hearty congratulations.”

The gathered crowd breaks into applause, although I still see shock in several people’s expressions. Dominic is gazing up at the stage with furrowed brows, his expression unreadable. The Purcells look livid, probably angry that the Constantines are back in the game while there’s no chance at all for Carson to make a sudden and unexpected reappearance. I notice a few other people who look less than happy—either about the engagement or about Marcus’s “resurrection.”

Luca glances to his left and right, nodding slightly at the two people beside him. Then he speaks into the mic again. “May your union be bountiful and blessed. Love truly is a wonderful thing.”

There’s something a little odd in his tone as he says love, as if the word is loaded with meaning.

Huh.

He has to know that this engagement is a complete sham, and I wonder what he thinks of Victoria’s little stunt. From what the guys told me, Luca married for actual love. He cared about his wife so deeply that after her death, he never remarried or even took a mistress.

So what’s his opinion on using marriage as a tool for political gain?

The crowd applauds again, and Luca finally ushers Victoria and Marcus off the dais. He speaks to them for another moment, but without his voice amplified by the microphone, I can’t make out what he’s saying.

The music starts up again as people resume their conversations, and Marcus glances toward me. Although he’s more than halfway across the room, I feel the intensity of his gaze almost as strongly as I did back in the laundry room when our faces were just inches apart. An electric jolt bursts through me, making my already buzzing nerve-endings light up all over again.

Marcus’s posture shifts a little, and I wonder if he felt the same thing I did. He says something to Luca and barely casts a glance in Victoria’s direction before striding back over toward me, Ryland, and Theo.

I watch him make his way across the ballroom, noticing the way his gait hitches a little with each footstep. He’s still in pain, still barely recovered from being shot, and I can’t even imagine how much willpower it’s taking him to stay upright at the moment.

Ryland must see it too, because he makes a noise beside me. “Shit. We gotta get out of here.”

“Yeah.” Theo nods. “We’ll have to pin Adrian down another time.”

I can hear the undercurrent of worry in their voices, and it infects me too. They’re right. We need to leave, and we need to take Marcus with us.

In this deadly game of violence and intrigue, the appearance of strength matters. If Marcus collapses in front of an entire ballroom full of people, it will undermine the power we need to project as we try to sway people to our side. We can’t afford to show any weakness.

By the time Marcus reaches us, I can see the hard set of his jaw and the tension in his body. I slip my arm through his in what I hope is a lady-like gesture, and as soon as I do, I feel him give me some of his weight, allowing me to help support him.

“Can you leave? Can you come with us?” I ask quietly, hating that it’s even a question. I can practically feel Victoria’s gaze burning into the back of my head as we turn toward the door.

“I can do whatever the hell I want.” Marcus presses his lips together. “She doesn’t fucking own me yet.”

“Let’s go.” Ryland leads the way toward the ballroom door, carefully keeping his steps slow and even so Marcus can keep up.

I catch several people glancing at us as we leave, and I wonder what kinds of rumors and speculation will fly around in our absence. I hope like hell we’re not going to piss Luca off by bailing early on his party, but even that seems like a better option than staying.

As we slip out the door, leaving the luxury and finery of the ballroom behind, I glance back over my shoulder.

Victoria is standing in the same spot where she and Marcus talked to Luca D’Addario, although the older man is nowhere to be seen now. Groups of people talk and laugh around her, but she stands alone in the crowd, looking back at me with narrowed eyes. Her expression is unreadable from here, but as our gazes lock, I get the feeling I’m staring at a viper—one who won’t hesitate to strike if I get in her way.

A cold feeling trickles down my spine.

I hadn’t even met Victoria Tatum before this evening.

But in the space of a few hours, we’ve become enemies.