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“She needs to pay, too. She probably put Dima up to it. I wish I could be the one…” Her words trail off as her eyes become a little sad.

Her fucking cunt of a mother.

Maybe I won’t get Everest’s permission to end her mom’s life. Anyone who can dim the light in my wife’s eyes doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air or exist on the same plane.

Now Everest is quiet, a pensive look on her face as Brix carries her into her room. We need a bigger bed. There isn’t a chance in hell I’m sleeping anywhere except beside her, but the damn king-sized mattress doesn’t quite fit all four of us, especially not with Brixton’s big ass squeezing in.

As I reach over Brix’s shoulder and push the hair from her face, I frown. Her pretty gray eyes are sparkling with unshed tears.

Now, everyone knows alcohol is really good at amplifying emotions, but my girl has every right to cry after finding out exactly what her mother thinks of her.

Her watery eyes raise to mine, and she blinks before frowning. “You mad?” she asks.

“What?”

“Are you mad because I told the Pakhan we need to meet? Did I hurt your macho ego?” There’s a mischievous gleam to her eyes.

Oh, my wife is drunk, but she knows exactly what’s going on and what her words will do.

But I like this way better than the tears that are still present yet haven’t trailed over her lashes.

“I’m the head of this family, E. At least in public,” I say as Brix sets her on the edge of the bed and Madd plucks the heels from her fingertips. He doesn’t bother actually carrying them into her closet and putting them away, just tosses them in that direction.

Everest leans back on her hands. Even like this with her hair disheveled, her makeup a little smeared from dancing and sweating and laughing, she looks fucking amazing.

Doesn’t help that I’d intentionally picked a dress that looks like a wedding gown. Almost looks like she’s sitting there waiting for us to consummate our marriage or some shit.

“Does that mean I can be the head of the family behind closed doors?”

Raising one brow, I actually look up at Brix, a little shocked by her brazen question. She really has changed in our time apart. Not that she was ever shy when we were younger.

But this Everest, the adult version…she has no problem saying exactly what’s on her mind and telling us exactly what she wants.

Leaning forward, I drop my hands on the bed on either side of her hips and move my face so close our noses nearly touch. “Don’t for one second forget who’s in charge in this house, beautiful.”

Her face is slightly blurry between the booze and the close proximity, but I don’t miss the way her gaze darts to my lips then back up again.

And I sure as fuck don’t expect the moment her hand shoots forward and clamps around my throat.

My Adam’s apple bobs, but I’m having a hard time swallowing as she tightens her grip.

“How does it feel?” she whispers, her lips ghosting over mine. “How does it feel when you have something to say but someone silences you?”

A tremor works down my spine. I open my mouth to respond, but I got to be honest – I’m not sure I want to admit this moment, the feeling of her fingers clenching around my throat, has my dick so hard it’s nearly painful.

I don’t think I’ve ever been manhandled during sex, and I sure as hell have never had anyone evenattemptto dominate me.

“Everest –” Brix starts, a warning in his tone as he moves forward.

I hold my hand up, stopping him. I really want to see how far she’s willing to go with this, whether she’s simply feeling brazen with the alcohol running through her system and the faceoff with her parents.

Or maybe she simply has some frustration she needs to release. I’m more than happy to let her work that steam off on me, especially if it’s in the form of a hard hate fuck.

“You might be the Don, you might run this syndicate, but don’t think for one second you will ever be in charge of me.”

Her lips feather against mine with every word spoken, her breath hot and scented with something sweet and a little warm from whatever cocktail she’d constantly downed at the party.

Raising my own hand, I clamp my fingers around her neck and push her back a little so she can focus on my eyes as I say, “I am Don. I do run the syndicate. You do not and will never speak for my business, and as far as being in charge of you? Never forget who owns this body.” I tease my free hand along the swellof her cleavage, sliding a finger under the fabric to toy with her nipple. “Never forget who owns these tits, that pussy, even your tight little asshole.”