7. Theo

The air is thick with anticipation as I step out of my car and into the cool night. My footsteps echo on the concrete sidewalk, a rhythmic cadence that mirrors the pulsating bass of the club that lay before me.

Tonight I need an escape, a reprieve from everything that had been consuming my thoughts lately. The neon glow of the club's sign beckons me like a siren's call, promising an evening of hedonistic delights.

The weight on my shoulders seems to lift, if only for a moment as I grasp the gleaming metal handle of the sleek, modern exterior door of Shadowsphere, our haven amid the chaos of the outside world.

We bought this place a few years back, trying to find something to take our mind off the grief and devastation from the loss of our father, and tonight is the perfect night to give in to the darkest parts of myself.

As I navigate through the throng of bodies lining the dance floor, a sense of liberation washes over me, freeing me from the suffocating confines of my own mind. Evangeline's presence in our home had been an unwelcome distraction from the start, an intruder in the carefully constructed fortress of my emotions.

I need to free myself of the burden of my obsession with her, to get away from the girl who had ignited a fire inside me and threatened to consume everything in its path.

Making my way to the bar, I order a whiskey, neat, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light as I lift the glass to my lips. With each sip, the burn sears through me, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous thoughts that swirl around inside my head.

Scanning the crowd, I pick out the first woman to catch my eye. She's got red hair, and her green eyes almost glow under the neon lights. Heading down through the crowd, I come up behind her and put my hands on her hips, our bodies moving together with an unspoken connection.

As we dance, I lose myself in the music, closing my eyes as our bodies move together. But I can't shake the image of Evangeline"s face from my mind.

Throwing back another sip of whiskey, I set the glass down, my grip tightening around the woman's waist. The alcohol burns as it courses down my throat, a poor substitute for the fire that rages within me whenever I think of Evangeline.

China blue eyes flash in my mind, replacing verdant green, while silky blonde hair replaces fiery red. The memory of Evangeline's piercing gaze refuses to be drowned out, haunting me even amid this fleeting distraction.

I push the woman away, disgust coursing through me. I don't want Evangeline. She's practically a child, and far too fragile for a monster like me. I just need to clear my head.

Stomping away, I head back to the bar and order another glass of whiskey, pounding it down recklessly before slamming the glass against the bar.

"Another," I demand, waiting as the bartender makes me a third whiskey. Once he pushes it toward me, I lift it to my lips and take another long drink.

I turn, glass in hand, and begin to watch the dancers on the floor, the enticing display of sensual movement doing little to stop my thoughts from circling back once more to the waifish blonde maid under our employ.

She's like a splinter under the skin, working its way deeper inside with every attempt to remove it. There's something about her, a quiet strength, a steadfast resolve inside her that I can't seem to squash, no matter how hard I try.

Women like her are nothing more than moths drawn to the flame of an Everhart, as our father would say. She's going to get burned if she keeps insisting on flying so close.

Maybe I can get her out of my system once and for all, I decide as I down the rest of my glass. If I could just have the taste I'm craving, my obsession would subside.

Tossing my card on the counter of the bar, I storm outside, the cool air doing little to quell the fire simmering under the surface. Excited anticipation has me fumbling for the keys to the Porsche as I get inside, making my way back home under strobing streetlights.

The alcohol is flowing through my veins now, and I've got a nice buzz going by the time I arrive back at the manor.

Ryder and Oliver are lounging in the billiard room when I arrive, their own glasses in hand. "Where did you go?" Ryder asks, looking up from where he's draped over a linen chaise lounge.

"Shadowsphere," I say, a grin on my face. "Needed to get my mind off things." I sink onto the couch, exhaustion settling in my bones.

"Back so soon?" Oliver asks.

"I realized our approach with Evangeline isn"t working. We need to change tactics," I inform them.

Their eyes meet mine, understanding dawning in the dim light. "What do you suggest?" Ryder asks, tone cautious.

A smirk tugs at my lips, a plan forming in the recesses of my mind. "We show her where she belongs."

Oliver leans forward, curiosity mingling with anticipation. "And where"s that?"

"Underneath us," I declare, confidence surging through me. "Submitting to us, wholly."

Ryder"s brow furrows, skepticism lingering in the air. "You want to seduce her?"

I nod, determination burning bright. "It"s time we put an end to these games. We show her that she"s nothing to us, and we move on."

"Interesting," Ryder says, putting his phone away and standing up with a gleam in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

I nod slowly, and the three of us grin, sharing a silent look of understanding before we head upstairs to find her.

I pound on her door, and she opens it cautiously, a wary look in her eyes. "It's the middle of the night," she complains. "What do you want?"

She's only wearing a thin, cotton nightdress, the outline of her body visible in the moonlight streaming through her windows.

I can feel the intensity of my brothers' gazes as we all stand before her, all attention on the woman who has so far eluded our grasp.

"We need to talk," I say, my voice low and commanding. I push past her, entering her room without invitation. Ryder and Oliver follow suit, closing the door behind us.

She steps back, a look of apprehension flickering across her features. "What's going on?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I don't answer immediately. Instead, I take a moment to study her, the way the moonlight casts shadows across her delicate features. Her eyes dart nervously between the three of us.

Ryder steps forward, his expression dark and unreadable. "You've been causing trouble," he says, his voice tinged with accusation.

She furrows her brow. "I don't understand."

Oliver moves closer, his gaze piercing as he locks eyes with her. "You've been playing games," he tells her. "But the game ends now."

A shiver runs down her spine and she takes a step back. I close the distance between us. "You've been toying with us," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "But you're about to find out what happens when you play with fire."

She tries to speak, to protest, but the words die in her mouth as mine descends, pressing against her lips as I push her into the wall. My knee comes up between her thighs as I rip the nightgown off her body, revealing silky panties and nothing else.

"Stop," Evangeline says, pushing me off her. "I don't want this. Get away from me." She shoves at my chest, but Ryder steps forward, grabbing her wrists in one hand and raising them above her head.

"It doesn't seem like you want us to leave," Oliver purrs, running light fingers over her quickly hardening nipples. "I see the way you look at us when you think no one can see you…"

She shivers, twisting her head to the side.

But Ryder is there, capturing her lips with his as my hand moves down, pushing her panties to the side to slip a single digit into her wet folds. Evangeline chokes out a ragged breath, eyes watering.

"You can't tell me you want us to leave when the truth is plain as day," I tell her, moving up to circle over her clit. She lets out a low moan, a mix of desperation and disbelief in her eyes as she stares up at us.

"I don't want this," she protests weakly. Ryder scoffs.

"You want to try lying to us again?" he asks, pressing wet kisses along the pale column of her throat as her hands fly up to fist in his hair.

"It's honestly kind of sad," I agree, thumb rubbing her clit with more insistent strokes as I work a finger into her opening. She's tight here, but with each slow flick of my wrist, my finger pushes deeper inside.

"Stop," Evangeline whimpers. "Please stop. Why are you doing this to me?"

Oliver's lips curl into a half-grin. "You wanted us. Now you have us, dollface. Be careful what you wish for."

I pull my finger out and hold it up to her lips. "Clean it," I order, arousal flooding my veins when she opens her mouth immediately. Her tongue swirls around and around, sucking the sweet-scented slick from my finger, eyes half-lidded. I could get lost watching her like this, but the incessant throb of my dick reminds me of what we're doing here.

"Enough," I snap, pulling my finger away. "Ryder, get her on the bed. Oliver, strip her the rest of the way down."

Oliver makes short work of her panties as Ryder turns her over, forcing her to her hands and knees.

"We're going to take turns using you," I tell her, stroking a hand over the soft skin of her ass. "And you're going to enjoy it, little slut."

She moans deeply as I line myself up, slipping inside with a heated gasp. Stars burst behind my eyes as I feel her walls clench around me.

Shit. Now that I've had a taste of her, I wonder if getting her out of my system might be harder than I thought.