Chapter Twenty-Five

Snow

I spend the whole night fucking Lyrical like a madman. I needed more of her and have gotten addicted to her so easily. She's what I think about when I first wake up and the last thing I think about when my head hits the pillow at night.

I watch her paint in her art room that I built. She loves it, and like old times, she would paint as I watch her in her element while reading a nonfiction book. She's more beautiful than anything I have ever laid my eyes on.

Once she's finished painting, I tell her we need to talk. I make my way to the couch, Lyrical covered in dried-up paint.

I always thought she was the prettiest in her natural form: no makeup, hair tied up into a bun, wearing one of my old T-shirts. She hasn't changed and she still steals my hoodies and clothes. Though I'm not going to lie to myself, I don't mind. I'd rather her wear my shit than wear another man's clothing. She flips through Netflix, biting her bottom lip while trying to find something to watch. When her eyes veer up, a slight flush creeps up to her cheeks.

I take the remote from her hand and set it on the coffee table. Her lips are red and bee-stung and I want those lips wrapped around the crown of my dick.

"Why were you at your parents' place a few days ago?"

"I knew it. You have a tracker on my phone."

"Yes, I do."

"For how long?"

"Since the first day I met you when we were told that we were going to be married. Are you spooked?"

She shakes her head. "No. It's hot that you're obsessed with me. I figured you had a tracker on me so you could keep track of me when you can't follow me on campus." She pauses. "I showed my father the picture of Bailey and the man." She nibbles on her thumbnail. "The symbol represents the mafia family but the crossed-out snake means he's not part of the mafia anymore. Also, they disbanded the sex trafficking ring."

I don't believe what I hear, so I crinkle the corner of my mouth. "That doesn't sound like Bailey, dating a mafia man."

She nods, dusting off her T-shirt. "I went through her clothing because I wanted to see what I wanted to keep of her things, and she had a shirt with the Viper logo, so I looked it up and the mafia owns it, an infamous underboss who goes by the name Dante. It's a strip joint. I have a theory, though, but you won't like it." She sits on her knees. "She was working at this strip club so she could save enough money to run away from her home. She hated Tim, by the way. She hated the whole arranged marriage deal. And she mentioned it in a joking way that one day she was going to leave everything behind and run off with her prince."

Her words are a blow to the chest and I don't want to believe them, but, deep down, I know she is right. My sister wasn't happy, and I wasn't there for her like I should have been, too busy trying to get my father's approval to hand me the Billionaire Club. I tried my best to help her with her mental illness as much as I could, but nothing I did worked. She rebelled against me.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Bailey was whoring herself to get paid, or the guy was pimping her out to feed her drug habit, too. Even though we made a pact to never do drugs again, she still did it and the last fight we had were about her popping Molly. It was about two months before the car accident. I told her we're getting married soon, that we need to get clean. I only did drugs with her so she felt like she wasn't alone, Snow. She felt like everyone was against her and I didn't want her to feel like I was too. I didn't want her to feel like no one loved her. You have to believe me, I te—"

I nod, twirling her hair around my finger. "I believe you, Blue."

This is so much to process. Since Bailey was dealing with a human trafficker, my parents weren't paying enough attention to her. In a sense, they neglected her. My baby sister was suffering in her final years, and it pushed her into the wrong hands. Whoever the guy is in the picture with the tattoo is going to suffer. I want his blood spilled. The more I learn about Bailey, the more I feel as if I failed her. I should have been there for her, protecting her.

My parents failed her— I failed her.

My sister needed me, and I turned a blind eye because I couldn't see her suffering. Instead of being a big brother, I shut her out.

Lyrical's eyes suddenly light up and a smile spreads across her face. She faces me with her legs crossed, and I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I have a stupid, crazy-ass idea." She beams.

"We go to the strip club, talk to Dante, and ask questions about Bailey."

There is something that hasn't changed about Blue. She doesn't think things through. When she wants to get shit done, she never thinks about the outcome. It could be another target on her back, because the mafia doesn't like people asking questions about people they dealt with.

I grit my teeth. "No, Lyrical."

"Please, Snow."

"It could be another target on your back."

"It won't," she tells me. "Be right back."

She climbs the stairs and comes back not a minute later with a skimpy dress, suit, and a blonde wig.

"They won't know who we are if we wear a disguise. I bought this yesterday."

The idea sounds good, and she is so sure that this would work. I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to her. My number one priority is protecting Lyrical.

"I can get Jameson to hack into their computer."

"They won't have Bailey's information on who she was dating at the time, but if we can get names at the club, we can narrow it down."

"No," I state.

"You told me we can work on this together, but you're not playing as a teammate."

I told her that, but it's my job to handle this.

"I said, no."

She frowns. "You get to have control over me in the bedroom, Snow. But you don't get to control my every move. I'm going—with or without you."

My eyes darken and rage courses through my veins. "I'll lock you in this mansion, Lyrical. Don't test me." I exhale, feeling annoyed. "Jameson and I will take care of it. We will handle it. Like we will handle the white mask man who was after you. I'm not risking your life, Lyrical. I do control your life; everything you do."

"You're not my dictator, Snow."

She pouts, and it's cute, so I grab her chin for her gaze to meet mine. "I'm the guy who is fucking your brains out every night. I'm the guy whose dick you come on all the time. You're going to have my last name soon, so yeah, I own you. Every inch of you. I catch you anywhere near the strip club, I'll punish you, Blue."

She peels my fingers from her chin. "You're unbelievable."

"You're mine. And don't forget it." I pause. "I'm hiring Russell as your bodyguard when I'm not around. He will walk you to and from classes when I can't. Until we find the white rabbit."

"Are you fucking serious, Snow? I don't need a babysitter."

"Yeah, you do. Either that or you do your classes online. The choice is up to you."

All the guilt I feel for taking my anger out on her eats at me, but I don't let it show. She was right the entire time about someone coming after her, but I still don't know whether she did drugs and got behind the wheel that night or if she's using this as an excuse and feels guilty. At this point, I don't know what to believe. She would have done anything Bailey told her to out of guilt because she wanted to make her best friend happy. Sometimes, my sister would use her mental illness as a weapon to control people if she didn't get her way.

She rolls her eyes. "I'll take the bodyguard."

"Good girl."

Her phone buzzes and she grabs it from the coffee table, smiling.

"I got a D-plus on my algebra exam."

She wraps her arms around my shoulders, hugging me tight, and I slide her into my lap, squeezing her ass.

"Professor allowed me to use the notes you gave me on my exam. I wonder what made him change his mind?"

The professor kept true to his word, but I'm still keeping those photos just in case he slips up.

I gaze at her smile that was worth blackmailing him for. I'll do it all over again to see that smile on her face.

"I really didn't think I was going to pass." Tears wet her eyes. "I'm really going to graduate, thanks to your study guides. Let's celebrate! Let's go barhopping."