Page 142 of Blackwood

I glare at the guy next to me holding his phone way too steady, way too long, way too angled right at her ass.

I will break your fingers, fucker.

“Thank you, Knox.”She smiles confident and lethal.“Like he said, I’m Bella. This is Ellie. That’s Haley. And we are The Trifecta.”

The crowd roars so loud I swear the fucking foundation shakes.

“And here at The Row?” She paces slowly. Voice smooth. “We don’t just throw parties. We make memories. We make legends. We make history.”

She points at the crowd, then up to the balcony where more Wolves are leaning over the rails with drinks in hand.

“So whether you’re a Wexley Wolf, an Order God, a Hollow King…” she looks at me and blows me a kiss.

Fucker with the phone pointed at her ass looks at me and I swear he pisses his pants.

“That’s right,” I say loud enough for him and everyone else to hear. “She’s fucking mine, man.”

“…or just someone lucky enough to get in, welcome to the most elite, most dangerous, most unforgettable night of your goddamn summer!” she finishes with a smile.

I shake my head, half-laughing, half-hard. “Damn, baby,” I mutter under my breath. “You better hype up my fight night next week like that.”

“Okay, Wolves, ladies, gentlemen.”A pause. Knox’s grin is audible. “I think we should kick this off in style.”

The lights flicker, dim. A pulse of bass hums through the pool.

“How about we start this night off with a few chairs?”

The crowderupts. Behind the stage curtain, three tall black chairs are carried into place by a few Wexley boys, including Callum, who’s grinning like he’s about to die happy.

“Thank you, boys…” Bella says stepping toward the chairs. “Hmm… Knox. Who do you think we should get to sit in these lovely little chairs?”

Three chairs.

Three girls.

And three very lucky bastards about to risk their lives for my view.

The crowd starts chanting names. Drunk, sloppy, and desperate. Callum slides right up beside her, wraps an arm around her waist, and pulls her in.Too close. Too smug. Too fucking comfortable.My jaw ticks.

It’s part of the act, Lex.

Bella’s still smiling. Dangerous. Teasing.

“Well, Bells,” Callum says cocky as ever, “I can think of someone who could at least sit in your chair.”

Then he picks her up. Just fucking grabs her. She gasps as her legs wrap around his waist like it’s normal. Like it’s fine. Herbraid swings behind her, red heels glinting under the lights like weapons I should be using on him. He slides his hands around her ass and the fucker squeezes.

Good God, Cal. I will fucking murder you in your sleep.

He carries her to the chair like she’s his. Sits down so she’s fuckingstraddling him and laughs.

Baby, you’re going to pay for this torture.

His hands are still on her. Her thighs are wrapped around him. I can’t breathe. The crowd explodes. Like this is cute. Like it’s fun. Like they’re just watching two people flirt.

What they are watching is my girlfriend signing the death warrant of yet another fucking man. Let’s just put Callum Whitmore on my hit list right under Mortal fucking Kombat.

Bella laughs into the mic.