Barbie Btch (Rejects Paradise #3) - Sheridan Anne Page 0,81
panic, desperate for some kind of escape. I start backing up as they move toward me and for some reason, I find it impossible to tear my eyes off them, particularly the older man standing in the center. He has an air about him, something that screams danger.
He’s in a suit and the way he holds his shoulders and oozes importance tells me to keep my fucking mouth shut.
The two men behind me finally catch up and I feel the gun at my back, forcing me to walk forward and meet the men in the middle.
My eyes flick around, desperately searching to figure out who’s the weakest link, which one would I be able to take down, which one could I fool?
The suited man takes a step forward. “I wouldn’t, Oceania Munroe,” he warns, shocking me as he uses my full name, though I hardly hear him over the deafening pulsing in my ears as my blood pumps wildly through my body with fear.
“Who are you?” I demand, far too bravely for how I feel inside as I try to look over them in a new light. They clearly know me and I too easily just fell into their trap. These fuckers have been watching me, waiting for me.
He steps in closer and scans over my face, looking for something but I have no idea what. “I think the real question here is who the hell are you?”
I slam my hands against him, forcing him a step away from me, his closeness way too disturbing for my own liking.
The gun at my back moves to my skull. “Don’t fucking tempt me,” the guy murmurs at my back, his hot breath hitting the side of my face. “I’ve been waiting for my fucking chance to take out Dominic Garcia’s girl.”
Fuck. They’re Wolves.
I’m in more trouble than I could ever have known.
“Easy, Snake,” the suited guy demands, his sharp, deadly glare shooting up over my shoulder to the armed man at my back. “Hurt her and you’ll spend the next week in the cell.”
The gun instantly eases off the back of my head as a low, rumbly growl sounds behind me. “Yes, boss.”
“Boss?” I question, my eyes going wide as I stare at the man standing way too close. I suck in a sharp breath. No, this can’t be happening. “You’re Mikhail Russo.”
His eyes sparkle with danger and in the blink of an eye, he seems to grow a million feet taller. “Ahh, so you know who I am.”
I swallow back fear, doing everything in my power not to let on just how fucking terrified I am. “What do you want with me?”
He licks his lips and shivers travel right down my spine, turning my blood freezing cold. “I’ve been watching you, pup,” he says in a chilling tone. “You’ve been a very naughty girl spending so much time with those Widows. Anyone would think that you’re a traitor to your family.”
“Family?” I scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a Wolf, girl, and have been since the day you were born.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and scrunching my face in distaste. “‘I'm no Wolf and I sure as hell am no Widow, but I know where my loyalties lie. I don’t want anything to do with your stupid gang.”
A hand shoots out and slaps hard across my face, leaving a stinging ache in its wake. “Watch your mouth,” Russo spits. “The Wolves are your family whether you like it or not. Out of respect for your father, I’ve kept my distance, but I’m not a very patient man. With Dominic Garcia now leading the Black Widows, it’s time for you to come home. You could be of great use to me.”
I laugh at him. “You think I'm about to come and sit by your side in your shitty little clubhouse and tell you everything I know on Nic and the Widows. Yeah, fucking right.”
“Careful,” he says, stepping into me and forcing me back a step, only to stumble over the gunman’s boot and fall into the brick wall of the alleyway. “Keep talking like that and my men may get the impression that you’re a traitor to who you are, to your father, and your family.”
Fuck. Being labeled a traitor by anyone is never a good sign, even if they’re not your people. That’s practically begging for a bullet through my temple, but at the same time, I won’t turn on the boys—they’re my family.