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He claps me on the back and steps back into the studio. Everest is shielding her tits behind her arms, but she’ll have to move them when Nico starts inking her.

“Same design you sent? You like the changes I made?” he asks.

“Yep. But instead of vertically,” I say, stepping closer and hovering over Everest. “Across this way.” I run a fingertip along her chest, teasing the swell of her tits.

She shudders lightly and a soft gasp escapes her lips.

I smile down at her then back away, making room for Nico to apply the stencil.

“I’ll need you to drop your arms, sugar.”

Everest turns wide eyes and raised brows to me, but I simply cock a brow and shrug. “Like I said, not too many men who haven’t seen your tits. Or would you feel more comfortable if he threw a few singles on your lap first?”

“Fuck you,” she says, then drops her arms, glaring right at me even as Nico cleans her skin and applies the large template that will stretch almost shoulder to shoulder, the top of the design just below her throat.

The only way she can get rid of this one is if she pays for laser removal. I’m not even sure she could cover it with makeup.

Pulling a stool closer, I sit so close I can smell her body wash or shampoo, whatever that sweet shit is on her.

“Need me to hold your hand?” I tease.

“This won’t be nearly as painful as –” She cuts herself off and I frown.

Won’t be as painful as what? What could she possibly have gone through that would be nearly as painful as what she put us through.

Unless she’s counting the way she mutilated our initials. No sympathy if that’s the case. She made her choice.

Now we’re asserting ours.

“You’re making a big mistake,” she mutters, toying with the sweater on her lap.

I huff a humorless sound and continue to hold her glare. Does this tiny bitch think her look will make me cower, make me wither under her ire?

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life,” I say, making sure to pause so she’ll know she was one of them. “But making sure the world knows who you belong to isn’t one of them.”

I nod at Nico when he holds the gun up and hovers it above her chest, waiting to see whether I’ll change my mind, whether I have anything else to add or change.

The buzz of the gun always puts me in this weird trance state. I don’t know if it’s the memory of that itching, irritating pain that relaxes me or simply the white noise-like sound, but I slump in my chair, knees spread, and rest my elbows on the sides of the chair.

Everest is still glaring at me, but I catch the slight wince when the needle pricks her skin. She doesn’t make a peep as Nico starts the outline.

But she does eventually drop her gaze, letting it roam across the room and over to Nico.

And for some reason un-fucking-known to me, there’s this possessive burn in my veins when she lets her eyes roam over his face, over his tats, and down his body where she can see without moving too much.

Why the fuck is she checking out Nico?

And suddenly, I’m not real hip to the fact her tits are out for him – or anyone who enters this room – to see. No one gets to see those beauties but me and my brothers.

The fact I’m seeing red, and that fucking green fog is slithering through my gut pisses me the fuck off. Why the fuck should I care whether she checks someone out? Why the fuck should I care if Nico sees her tits after four years of hundreds – or thousands – of strangers ogling her entire fucking body?

Because she’s mine.

I had no control over what she did while she was gone. But I have that control and I don’t like the way I feel right now.

“He’s pretty fucking hot, isn’t he?” I say, keeping my voice low so she won’t start and fuck up the design.

She turns her eyes to me and frowns.