1. Cian

“Touch her,and you die. That’s rule number one.” The knife glides easily into this cunt’s guts as he gurgles, his eyes wide as he stares at me. I shove him harder up against the wall with the knife. “You won’t live to hear rule number two.”

Victoria wraps her arm around my neck and licks my face, a salacious marking as she laughs maliciously at the asshole who is about to die at our feet.

“That’s it, baby,” she purrs. “Show him what an idiot he is to mess with Cian Gannon.”

Narrowing my eyes, I turn to glare into Victoria’s baby blues. “Mess with me?” I ask and let go of the knife, so the dude slumps to the floor of the private room in the Student Union here on the BlackBriar University campus—our elite clubhouse full of next-gen mafia kids. “Mess with you, more like.”

She laughs again, her eyes wild with that driven brand of crazy that makes my cock stiff. Grabbing her by the throat, I shove her up against the wall next to where the soon-to-be-dead guy has slumped down.

She licks her lips as I tighten my grip on her neck, unzipping my pants to drag my cock out. My hand goes up her short skirt, and I slide my finger into her knickers, pulling them to the side to give me entry to that hot, sweet pussy that drives me to the brink of destruction. Without another word, I ram into her, hard and fast. She moans, an indistinct sound that mixes with the heavy breathing and muffled groans from the guy bleeding out beside us. It’s fucked up, the way this kind of chaos gets us off.

With every thrust, I’m more alive, more in control of this little world we’ve created where fear and desire are tangled up so damn tight. Victoria’s hands claw at my arm, nails digging in like she’s trying to get inside me, to own me just as much as I own her.

Her leg wraps around my waist, urging me deeper, both of us spiralling toward that edge where nothing else matters. She chokes as I increase the pressure on her neck, and it makes me smile.

“Don’t use me as your fucking hitman again, Tory,” I murmur against her lips before I snap my jaw, clamping my teeth around her bottom lip. She pants heavier before I release her. “If you’re going to be a cock-tease and you want a guy dead, do it yourself.”

“I don’t need you as my hitman, asshole,” she rasps. “I’ll get my own hands dirty, but it fucking turns me on like a fucking light switch when you kill.”

“Bitch,” I hiss as her pussy clutches my cock tightly, so fucking tight. She is my addiction. My drug. I need her. I can’t fucking live without her.

Her eyes glint with that same fiery madness, matching the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “You love it,” she spits back, her voice strangled but full of venom and truth.

I pound into her harder because I can’t deny it—I do love it. This twisted dance of death and lust that we’ve mastered is what binds us together. It’s our fucked up kind of love, if you can even call it that.

Obsession.

Possession.

Compulsion.

Fucking delusion.

“You’re mine,” I growl, a declaration, a vow. She meets my eyes. There’s no fear, no hesitation, just that same fucking madness that matches mine. It’s a twisted kind of love, but it’s ours. “No fucker touches you but me. Are we clear, Tory? You want to play these fucked up games, find someone else to do your dirty work.”

I let go of her throat, and she gasps for air, gulping it down like it’s sweet nectar. But there’s no hint of weakness in her—I wouldn’t stand for it if there were. Victoria is every bit as dangerous and capable as I am. Her cunt soaks my cock with her cum, and I dump my load into her with a grunt, pulling out of her and snapping her knickers back into place so that she can feel them damp against her bare pussy.

She shoves me away, a vicious look of triumph on her too-beautiful face. She bends down, her hand clamping around Clyde, my wicked-ass knife with the double serrated edges, and she twists it, finishing this asshole off, who is starting to get on my fucking nerves with all his groaning.

“That’s a message to your asshole dad for trying to do dirty on mine,” she snarls, and I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

Really?

This entire thing was about revenge. Gotta give it to my girl. She’s as loyal as they come.

And I respect that. Loyalty in this fucked up world is rarer than a goddamn unicorn. But it’s a double-edged sword, and the cuts run deep.

She stands up, steady as a rock, her eyes on the blade in her hand. She wipes Clyde clean on the dead guy’s shirt, a twisted sort of caretaking that sends another surge of lust through me. We’re a fucking mess, an undeniable disaster waiting to implode, but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I finish zipping up and watch her move with lethal grace and raw edges. There’s something chillingly beautiful about Victoria when she’s just dealt death. It’s like she absorbs their life force, becoming more vibrant, more foreboding.

Kneeling beside the body, I reach into his pocket and pull out his wallet—nothing personal - just business. “Poor bastard never stood a chance,” I mutter, tossing the wallet to Victoria.

She catches it effortlessly, a smirk on her lips. “No one does against us.”

I return the smirk as I straighten up, step over the corpse, and grab Clyde from Victoria. As we head out the door of the private room, Luke McIntyre, my right-hand man and Earl of Glenmorrow, looks up from where he’s leaning against the wall.

“Clean up,” I mutter.

His green eyes linger on Victoria for a second too long, but she hasn’t even noticed he’s there. It fires up my possessive streak, and I grab her hand drawing her closer to me. Luke drops his gaze and strolls past me. He and Gianluca will sort this clusterfuck out. I wasn’t planning on killing tonight. I just wanted a few drinks, and my dick wet. I’m done with the first, not with the second. Nowhere near done with her yet.

“Come back to my place,” I murmur in her ear. It’s an order rather than a request.

“Not tonight,” she says, pulling away from me as she does. It makes my insides rage like an inferno. “Got an early morning meeting with Dad.”

She gives the excuse, but I can see it’s not just that. She is pissed with me for calling her out as a cock-tease. It will have pissed her off. But I call ‘em like I see ‘em. Even with her. I don’t have the time or patience for bullshit. BlackBriar University is my playground and my kingdom—and I’ll be damned if I let any outside drama mess with the racket I’m dealing here.

I watch her walk away, her hips swaying with a confidence that screams power and danger. It’s a sight that leaves me with another fucking hard-on, but I don’t stop her. Not yet. She needs to cool off, and so do I.

We’re both dancing with the devil, playing a dangerous game that will inevitably end in flames. It’s only a matter of time before we are consumed by the scorching heat, and our bodies are left charred and broken.

As I leave the Student Union behind me, heading out into the dark night, I analyse Luke’s glance at Victoria. It’s a complication I don’t need—not when Victoria and I are walking such a thin line between madness and ecstasy.

There is only one way to deal with it. Shut it the fuck down before he forces me to kill him for lusting after my girl.