Riley’s POV
I swallowed hard as their words. Was this so kind of nightmare? Where in the world does a woman marry three—or no, four—n as husbands?
It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable. Yet, here they were, standing before with that unnerving calm, as if what they said was the most natural thing in the world. Was I really hearing this right?
How could they possibly have drawn up a contract that bound to three more n? What kind of twisted ga was this?
I took a small, hesitant step backward, trying to create so distance.
My heart was pounding loud enough to drown out the quiet hum of the hotel lobby. I blinked hard, willing my mind to make sense of the absurdity. "I would love to leave now," I said, my voice steady but laced with disbelief. "I have a company to run."
They exchanged glances and smiled at each other, the kind of smile that sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t a friendly smile. It was a smile that spoke of secrets, power, and a dangerous confidence that unsettled .
"Not so fast, honey," Caden’s voice cut through the space between us, calm but undeniably commanding.
I frowned. The way they called "honey" and "sexy" didn’t sit right with . I hated those nas. But part of —an unexplainable, tiny part—felt a strange pull towards it.
The way their voices sounded with those words, low and confident, made the words sound almost... enticing. I quickly pushed the thought away.
"What do you want?" I asked, forcing my eyes to look anywhere but at them. I couldn’t et their gazes—not now, not when everything felt so surreal.
Cane’s lips curled into a sly grin. "We want a lot of things," he said slowly, "but first things first—we want you to et us here tonight. We need to discuss how to go about the whole thing."
"The whole thing." Those words made want to laugh out loud, but all that ca out was a dry, bitter chuckle. "I have nothing to discuss with you," I snapped. "I already have a family. And I don’t understand why you’re hellbent on doing this. Did Ethan offend you people sohow? If so, why don’t you talk to him directly? Why drag into your ga?"
My voice trembled on the last words. The bitterness wasn’t just at them; it was at myself for feeling so vulnerable and exposed.
Gunnar stepped forward then, his tall fra casting a long shadow over .
He moved with an easy grace, the kind that made you hold your breath without realizing it. His scent hit —a deep, woodsy fragrance mixed with. It made my skin prickle. I wanted to lean into him, to breathe him in and forget everything else, but I held myself back.
"What if we’re doing it for the fun of it?" His voice was a low murmur, almost playful, but with an edge that told he was serious.
"For fun?" I echoed, disbelief breaking through my anger. "Do you think any of this is fun?"
Before I could take a step back, Gunnar’s hand wrapped around my waist, pulling close.
I stumbled slightly, and my hand shot out instinctively, slapping against his chest to steady myself. His shirt shifted, and a few buttons ca undone, revealing a tattoo that ran from his chest up to his neck—a swirling, intricate design that was both beautiful and intimidating.
I stared at it, frozen. The sight of that tattoo made my breath hitch.
"You like what you see?" Gunnar’s voice broke through my daze, rough and teasing.
I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip was firm, holding it in place against his chest. "Don’t worry," he whispered. "You can touch as much as you want."
My hand moved almost on its own, tracing the contours of his chest, the inked patterns, the hard muscles beneath. I felt like I was drowning in the mont, trapped between fear, confusion, and a strange, dangerous attraction.
Then, my phone rang sharply, breaking the spell. I yanked my hand back and reached for the phone. The screen lit up with Ethan’s na. A wave of anger and disgust surged through .
"I... I need to go now," I said quickly, stepping past them, my heart pounding in my ears.
"See you later," Cane called after , his voice casual but layered with sothing darker.
See them later? Who was going to see them later? This was the last ti they were going to see . Ever.
I barely recognized the sound of my own footsteps as I hurried down the hotel corridor. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, swirling like a storm that refused to calm.
How had my life spiraled into this chaos?
One mont, I was mourning my dead child, eting my husband fucking his Stepsister with no remorse, I was trying to hold my life together; now the next, I was in a club but now I’m standing in a hotel room, listening to three n declare themselves my husbands.
The absurdity was crushing.
I kept telling myself it was a nightmare I’d soon wake from, but deep down, I knew this was real.
I slipped into the elevator, my hands trembling as I fumbled for the button to the lobby. The cold tal walls reflected my pale face back at .
The infamous Alphas of Crescent Hollow? People said they’re barely seen. What did they really want? And how the hell was I supposed to navigate this ss?
As the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, a black car stopped right in front of . My pulse quickened.
Before I could even step out, the passenger door swung open and a man in a perfectly tailored suit stepped out. His posture was rigid, his expression unreadable.
"Good day, Miss," he said, his voice polite but firm. "I was asked to drive you back."
I blinked, confused. "Drive who back? I have a car. I can drive myself."
His eyes flickered with sothing—maybe sympathy?
"Please, ma’am, help do my work. I have a family to care for. If you don’t agree to this, the CCG brothers will hold them accountable."
My heart stopped.
The weight of the threat sank deep into my bones. What had I gotten myself into? What was I supposed to do?
I took a long, steadying breath. I swallowed every ounce of pride and fear and slid into the backseat of the car.
Well, I told myself, I would be obedient for now. Because they would never see again. This was going to be the very last ti they’ll et Riley Grayson CEO.
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