Darius, settles an arm around my middle. Holding me, he asks my father, “Your enemies are now your allies. What do you plan on doing with our newfound alliance, D’Angelo?”

  “Use it to form one more alliance. I’ve learned the hard way we get more by working together.”

  Peace is a good thing. My heart has known pain for so long it might take me a little while to trust this new feeling welling inside me. But the more I let love inside, the easier it will become. And all it took was letting my twisted beasts close enough to bite.

  EPILOGUE

  BAILEY

  As it turns out, learning to trust love was easier than I expected. Of course, having all three of my men surrounding me all hours of the day helped me heal the broken pieces of my soul.

  If I could open my chest to see my heart right now, it would look like a patchwork of pieces held together by new memories, quiet kisses during snowstorms and a new love growing inside me.

  It’s been a year since I reconnected with my father and I found love in the arms of my father’s enemy. I thought they wanted me dead, but what they really wanted was to make me their queen.

  I stand back and admire my large baby bump in the mirror. I didn’t get pregnant that first night with the Denatti men, but it was not long after. I am nearing eight months and it’s wintertime again. We’ve decided the cabin is much more peaceful for our budding family. For now. It’s quiet out here and we can focus on ourselves until the birth of our baby. And then we will head back into the city. Until then I plan on savoring the peaceful quiet. Snow covers everything again, and it’s a sight I will miss once we leave.

  It’s been a year since I found out my life was worth ten million dollars. Wow. That is kind of hard to believe. The Denatti men could have easily ended me and collected the cash.

  Instead, they showed me that my love for them and my life was and is far more valuable.

  I tuck my hands under my belly. The gauzy white gown wraps around the new life I’ll give birth to in another month.

  “I can hardly believe it,” I say to Darius who walks in behind me and places his hands on my baby bump.

  “Is she giving you trouble today?”

  All the brown from my hair has faded and I’ve let my red locks grow until the ends touch the top of my rump.

  Darius lowers either side of my gown, exposing my shoulders and ample breasts. “I can’t wait to see you feeding our child.” He circles a nipple with a finger and then comes to kneel in front of me. His lips wrap around a tip and he slowly lavishes my nipple with gentle suckles until he has milk spilling.

  My man’s lips turn up in a wolfish grin. His eyes darken, and I see the devilish intent glittering in those depths. “Mm, fuck that is sexy. I missed you, precious.” He presses my breasts together and sucks on one then the other.

  He’s come from the city after meeting with my father and trying to work a deal out with Mount. My father never showed him the contracts with Mount's name on them and I never offered to tell him the truth. And the men have never asked. I know why and I respect their decision. Some things are better left buried. Having a perfect recall sometimes means forgetting for the better good of all. Peace is on the horizon. The cost of that peace is letting the past stay where it belongs. No one’s life is better off soaked in blood and vengeance. We have so much to look forward to. I can’t fathom losing it to hatred.

  I lift Darius’ face and place a kiss to either cheek. Scruff covers his jawline, and he looks tired, but happy. “I missed you too, my handsome lover.”

  “Did you think you two could hide in here and leave us out of all the fun?”

  Augustine and Victor come up behind me, taking me from Darius. My gown hits the floor and then I find myself on the bed surrounded by hungry beasts looking to eat me from head to toe.

  “I wanted to put up the Christmas tree,” I whimper, driving my hands into Victor’s hair as he lowers himself between my legs. Augustine and Darius licks and suck my nipples until they have milk running again.

  “Christmas tree later. We’ll even put lights on the roof and a fat Santa somewhere in the yard. But right now I’ve come home famished. And it’s time to feast.”

  My brain hears the words and my heart wraps them up in bubble wrap to protect the love dripping from every syllable. And then I spread my legs and let my men claim all of me—heart, body and soul.

  Thank you for reading her Twisted Beasts! For more mafia men and to find out how Club Genesis was established in Seattle, read Their Dark Reign by tapping here.

  Ready for the next book in the Dark Reign Session 2 series?

  Betrayal and Ruin by Ember Davis is up next.

  You’ve felt the power that the men of Dark Reign hold. Now it’s time to fall under their rule again with new men who hold their world in their hands as they find the women who make them fall to their knees.

  Power comes at a cost and these men have sacrificed their souls. They know violence, death, and how to walk in the gray, but that doesn’t mean they are without weakness. The women they love are their light and they would scorch the Earth to protect them.

  This December meet the men who rule their empires of crime and the women who stand by them while darkness reigns.

  Check out the series and pre-order your copies today!

  mybook.to/DarkReignSession2

  Her Twisted Beasts by Penelope Wylde

  Betrayal and Ruin by Ember Davis

  A Delicate Omission by Layne Daniels

  Cardinal Sin by Stomri Wilde

  The Sweetest Agony by KL Donn

  Drawing Dead by E.M. Shue

  Devil’s Praise by Alana Winters

  Love in Fear by Andi Lynn

  Don’s Bride by S.J. Ransom

  Finding My Home by Natalie Arthur

  Caged Beauty by A. Glass

  CHAPTER 1 - THEIR DARK REIGN

  NYX

  It was a good idea yesterday, but the blade at my throat today says I messed up royally somewhere along the way.

  One would think my first error occurred when I stepped into the bathroom and watched a Lord of Chaos pleasure himself while he showered.

  But, no. That was my second. My first mistake was letting the sight of all that tanned skin distract me from running when I had the chance.

  Killer, punisher, and widow maker are all words whispered behind Ryth Cross’ back—leader of the Lords of Chaos. Everyone knows his name if they want to stay undead. Know thy enemy and all that, right?

  I part-time bartend at a pub where the beer is slung just as much as the bullshit. But every time someone says their name, whispers of truth fall over the crowd, and they all start with death and end in blood. I kid you not. The Lords rule over their section of the city with iron fists. No one steps out of line and lives. Why my brother thought working for them was a good idea, I don’t know. But I promise you this, the second I find that selfish bastard I’m going to kill him myself. If I don’t end up in a grave first.

  This leads us back to my current situation.

  I should have run when I had the chance. I had a direct and unobstructed path to the elevator, but when I saw Ryth walk through his bedroom door covered in blood every muscle in my legs turned to petrified stone and I could do nothing but hope he didn’t see me tucked behind his thick curtains.

  And then he stripped. I don’t consider myself shallow, but I do have weaknesses. I admit the sight of that man is one of them.

  On the plus side, I now know three things about Ryth Cross. One, the man is hung like a donkey. Two, he conceals multiple knife scars across his torso and back beneath his typical thousand-dollar suits. And third, he’s obsessed with tidiness. He folds every single piece of clothing he has on before showering, except the ones soiled with blood. Like his dress shirt today. That went into a duffel bag at the foot of his bed. He probably calls it “the murder bag”.

  Intriguing.

  But so are the two dimples just above his perfectly tanned ass.

  What the fuck am I doing here? Focus, Nyx. You want answers. Right.

  “Do you always sneak into strangers’ bedrooms?” Ryth’s voice is strained but that only makes his question sound more ominous.

  He snaps his fingers at me when my lips don’t move with the answers he’s expecting. “Up here, pussy cat. Answer my fucking question before you bleed out on my floor.”

  The tip nicks tender flesh and I feel a single drop of warm blood roll down the side of my throat. He’s not kidding around.

  I wet my lips. “Um, not daily, no.” There is no way he will understand that it’s not my fault I couldn’t take my eyes off the gorgeous tatts that run from his large knuckles to his shoulder blades. I fell into a trance when he was in the shower with how all that coiled muscle bunched and released the faster he worked himself. It’s the only answer I have for how I ended up in the bathroom instead of running for my life in the opposite direction.

  And, okay, I may have gotten carried away at the sight of his rock-hard abs, chiseled chest, and tight ass. It’s why I couldn’t hold back the groan when he reached his end. The masculine grunts…I just couldn’t.

  That was my…I mentally tally up the ways I’ve gone wrong. Third mistake, I think.

  The groan came out just as loud as his, revealing my presence.

  Our eyes clashed through the glass shower wall and the impact nearly sent me to my knees. I trembled in fear from my fingers to my toes. And from arousal. Instead of my heart stopping at the flash of anger I found in his dark irises, it turned over and over with excitement.

  I’ve never seen a man go from turned on to beyond pissed so fast. He barreled out of the shower and all I could do was stand there and wait for impact.

  And that is how I ended up at knifepoint. My eyes fall to his bare chest for a second. “Let me explain.” I try for a smile, but it falls flat the second the corners of my lips start to reach high. His scowl makes sure of that quickly. “It’s not what you think,” I try again.

  “Really? Because I’m not hearing much coming from your mouth. Nothing I like, anyway. Maybe you should use those fuck-me-red lips to suck my cock off since you can’t seem to find your voice.” His tone turns dangerously husky.

  I am pretty sure in another life I would have been the scared type. But right now, in this one, I’m nothing but turned on by the idea this mobster could end my life right this second or give me the best orgasm of my life.

  For whatever reason, I think it’s a good idea to place my hand on his wrist as he’s detailing how my mouth could be put to good use. More blood drips down my throat and I get it. No touching, but that doesn’t make me remove my hand from his body.

  I swallow thickly. His pulse hammers against the pads of my fingers when I try and pry his steel from burying itself inside my flesh.

  I can see his mind clicking over his options. Kill me quickly or push me to my knees, take what he wants and then kill me.

  Every deep inhalation he takes forces my hard nipples against all those deliciously wet grooves. Dripping water from his body soaks the front of my uniform. A thin white knit sweater and white bra equal wet T-shirt contest material.

  Dark eyes dip and sure enough, his train of thought follows mine.

  Adrenaline attacks my system, not because I’m afraid of what that dark look of his means, but of what I might do if he really does want to test out the durability of my lipstick.

  Focus, Nyx!

  “I’m here to clean. It’s Friday and your penthouse is on the schedule for cleaning. I didn’t mean to barge in, but in my defense, you were groaning and I thought you might be hurt.” What a load of lies. I see zero evidence of him buying it, but that doesn’t keep a smile from trying to make its appearance on my face again. At this point, I don’t know why I keep up the charade. He’s got me. I don’t belong here, and we both know it.

  He taps the end of my nose earning him a growl of resistance. He looms over me and brushes a thumb down the side of my face. “Your mother must not have taught you that little girls don’t come into a grown man’s room, pussy cat.”

  I find myself growing irritated at his tone. “Don’t call me that.” The last thing I am is some plaything. I could deliver a hard knee to the balls and that would get the blade away from my throat long enough for me to dive for the door. But the dare on his face says he’s expecting me to make a move.

  “Pussy cat,” he taunts in a low voice that sounds like water moving over crushed glass. Cold, jagged, and dangerous.

  “I mean it, mafia man. I’m no one’s toy.”

  An aura of power emits from him. I always thought a man was made by his clothes, but that’s anything but true today. Coiled anger sits just below the surface for this man. One wrong move and the irritation bulging all those muscles could spell my demise. I’m not fool enough to think just because I have a cute face and sweet ass this man won’t kill me.

  Kissable lips peel back in a saccharine smile I’m not about to accept at face value.

  “Are you gonna let me go so I can finish my work? It’s almost time to clock out and I still have a shower to clean, it seems?”

  I know it’s not wise to lie to a man three times my size, but what if he’s naked and just had what sounded like my name on his lips while he was working it in the shower?

  I couldn’t tell for sure. His voice was more of a growl than actual vowels and consonants. I probably heard wrong. Besides, how would he know my name? My brother makes it a point to keep me out of his work life to the point I feel like I don’t exist at times.

  But what now? There is no book on how to handle this, right? Or did I miss something?

  His eyes narrow and I go still against the wall. I clear my throat which is suddenly drier than sand in the middle of the Sahara and tap the end of the blade at my throat. It doesn’t seem like he’s getting the hint that it hurts.

  “Are you going to hurt me?” I croak out a few more garbled words. As it turns out it’s kinda hard to talk when a tatted-up, angry behemoth of a man flattens you against a wall. My eyes start to drift to certain parts of his anatomy before snapping back to his. Or at least parts of him seem hard and angry. The other parts look really happy to see me. He might have enjoyed his shower only moments ago, but he doesn’t look anywhere near being done.

  Eyes so black they look forged from onyx bore into mine.

  No answer.

  “Can you remove the knife, please? This seems a bit much. Unless a five-foot-two-inch woman makes you feel threatened.”

  He arches a brow and all the faux sweetness on his face fades into a humorless smile. It’s late evening and nearly the end of November so the only light comes from two lamps at either end of the large bed at his back and the bathroom. Shadows slice through his revolving expressions.

  Ryth’s fingers trace over my skin, that stupid blade of his still lodged against my throat like I’m going to grow fangs and claws any second.

  “You know my name.”

  “Everyone with access to the internet does. Now let me go. I have work to do.”

  “Liars should be punished, don’t you think, pussy cat?”

  No. No, I don’t. Not when they are me.

  “Asshole,” I grit out and mean it.

  I inhale sharply when his lips nearly take mine. “Such a filthy mouth.”

  The blade sinks deeper into the flesh until I feel I’m either going to pass out or lose my head. Neither of which sounds like a good way to spend the weekend.

  His eyes fall on my quivering breasts. “I wonder if the rest of you is just as naughty?”

  Because if nothing else, I am a really great bullshitter, I rock a bit of a smirk despite my knees practically knocking. I make sure not to take my eyes off his when he moves over me. If I do, I might see the one thing I can’t resist and that is his hard dick currently pressing into my abdomen.

  That roaming mouth of his moves over mine like an echo of something that could turn deeper. The whisper of a touch is barely noticeable until he gets to the edge of my jaw. His warm lips caress over the soft line and down the slope of my neck until I’m shuddering against him for a whole other reason than I was a moment ago.

  My pulse hammers in my ears. “Ryth,” I groan uncontrollably. Tingles of electricity skirt over every inch of exposed skin.

  Son of a bitch, this man is hung.

  Did I mention the deadly mafia man is naked? I think I did. And dripping water all over his hardwood floors and me. I could hook my legs around him and we could both turn this awkward situation into a fun time.

  Lord, give me strength not to look down again.

  But that’s me getting ahead of myself again. I’m not this reckless but I’ve had a huge crush on this man and his partners since the first day my brother told me about them. That was four years ago.

  If I’m lucky, Ryth will ask me to clean all this water up. That way I can have a good reason for being in his room when I shouldn’t even be past the third floor of the high-rise, much less the locked penthouse with exclusive access. Something I do not have with my borrowed employee keycard. But I didn’t make it into adulthood living in a shitty orphanage being meek and too scared to take what I want. I break rules and push boundaries every damn day of my life.

  Today is no different. I’m here to find my brother. Lucky for me the usual lady for this job called in sick. Like I kindly asked her to do. It took a little bribery and some hard-earned money, but she agreed to lend me her uniform and her keycard for one day. The exclusive key for the private elevator to the penthouse was all on me. I wonder if these men know how easy it was to get access to their ritzy kingdom?

  I’m guessing this one does now.

  The substantial weight pressing on the dangerous end of the weapon tells me my luck is about to run out. I knew it would happen sooner or later, but I’d hoped I had a few more hours to find more evidence that this man and his two partners know where to find my brother. Or where to find his grave marker. I told Wolfe this dark world of crime and killing would catch up to him. But he didn’t believe me.