Page 51 of Doomed (Blackwood Brothers #2)

KNOX

P urgatory is alive with energy tonight—my birthday energy.

The usual sleek darkness of the club has been transformed with blue lighting, my signature color splashed across every surface.

The private section we’ve commandeered has been rearranged with plush couches forming a loose circle, bottles of top-shelf liquor covering every table.

I lean back, watching as Bianca laughs with the other women. She’s wearing a skin-tight blue dress that matches the décor, a present to herself—and to me. Four months, and I can’t believe she’s mine. That I get to take her home tonight and strip that dress off her.

“Earth to Knox,” Vane snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Stop drooling over your girl and pay attention. We’re discussing our Russian problem.

“It’s my fucking birthday,” I remind him. “No business tonight.”

Xavier hands me another whiskey. “Our little brother’s gone soft. One woman bats her eyelashes, and he forgets we have a psychopath trying to kill us.”

“Orlov can wait,” Landon interjects, his eyes drifting to where Sadie sits with the other women. “He’s been quiet for two weeks.”

“Too quiet,” Tyson adds, joining our circle with Lars and Cade. “My contacts say he’s planning something big.”

“Your contacts?” I laugh. “You mean the carnival fortune teller?”

Tyson grins. “Don’t knock Madame Zelda. She’s been right before.”

“Speaking of right,” Remy’s deep voice cuts in as he approaches with Colt and Nash, “your intel about the warehouse in Willow Creek was solid. We’ve got it covered.”

The growing alliance between our operations has been the silver lining of Orlov’s vendetta. Two criminal empires united against a common enemy—who would’ve thought?

“To the birthday boy,” Colt raises his glass. “May your aim stay true and your enemies die screaming.”

“Eloquent as always,” Phoenix mutters, earning laughter from around the circle.

I catch Gage’s eye across the room, where he stands silently observing. He nods almost imperceptibly. Even the carnival’s resident psychopath showed up. I’m touched.

My attention drifts back to Bianca, now deep in conversation with Alice, Flora, and Aurora.

Eden seems to be telling a story that has them all leaning in, while Mira and Lia debate with animated gestures.

Tilly and Sofia look on, occasionally adding comments that send ripples of laughter through the group.

“Never thought we’d end up here,” Vane says, eyeing Lia across the room. “One Hunt and suddenly we’re all playing house.”

I smirk, taking another sip of whiskey. “You complaining?”

“Hell no.” He grins wickedly. “That woman has me wrapped around her finger, and I fucking love it.”

It’s strange how quickly they’ve all become essential—these women we hunted like prey now hunting us right back in their own ways. Xavier might deny it, but Mira’s changed him. He’s ruthless in business, but he’s softer when he looks at her and thinks no one’s watching.

Landon, though—that’s the real surprise.

I glance over to where he sits slightly apart from everyone, his eyes never leaving Sadie.

Their relationship is like watching a psychological war unfold.

Two brilliant minds constantly circling each other, neither willing to fully surrender, and both of them in love even if they won’t admit it openly yet.

“Landon and Sadie fighting again?” I ask Xavier, noticing the tension in my brother’s shoulders.

Xavier sighs. “When aren’t they? Last I heard, she hacked his security system to prove a point, so he locked her out of her own laptop.”

“That’s foreplay for those two,” Vane snorts.

He’s not wrong. Those two communicate through mind games and power plays that would break most people. Yet somehow, they keep coming back to each other, drawn together by some twisted understanding only they share.

“At least they’re never boring,” I observe, watching as Landon finally approaches Sadie, whispering in her ear and making her freeze, then flush. Whatever he said, she’s following him toward the back hallway now.

“Twenty minutes,” Vane bets, checking his watch.

“Thirty,” Xavier counters. “Landon likes to take his time breaking her down.”

“Forty-five,” I say, pulling out my wallet and tossing a hundred on the table. “I’ve seen how they operate. There’s a whole ritual to it.”

Xavier and Vane match my bet with bills of their own. Before we can settle on terms, Cade approaches with Lars trailing behind him. There’s an easy confidence to Cade’s stride that wasn’t there before—fatherhood looks good on the psycho.

“Blackwood,” Cade grins, clapping me on the shoulder. “Happy birthday. Figured I’d grace you with my presence before the kids’ bedtime videos call my name.”

“How domestic,” I smirk. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

Lars snorts. “You should see him with a baby wipe. Real fucking touching until you remember he gutted a man in Easthollow last month.”

“He had it coming,” Cade shrugs, his smile never wavering. “Asked about my daughter as part of a threat. Should’ve kept her name out of his fucking mouth, no one threatens my daughter.”

The casual way he says it—like commenting on the weather while referencing murder—reminds me why Cade makes even hardened criminals nervous.

“How is little Emma?” Vane asks, refilling everyone’s glasses.

Cade’s face transforms, genuine warmth replacing the predatory gleam.

“She hasn’t shut up since the day she started talking.

” He pulls out his phone, swiping to a photo of a four-year-old girl with beautiful golden hair and Cade’s dark brown eyes.

“Gage is teaching her to say ‘knife’ as her second word after ‘dada.’“

“Jesus,” Xavier mutters.

“What?” Cade looks genuinely confused. “Kid’s gotta learn self-defense early in this world.” He pockets his phone, the doting father vanishing as quickly as he appeared. “So, what’s the bet? Landon finally putting Sadie in her place?”

“Something like that,” I confirm, gesturing toward the hallway.

“Before you know it, he’ll have a baby in his arms,” Lars quips.

X shakes his head. “Landon? Are you joking? He’d probably rather claw his eyes out than change diapers.”

Cade takes a long pull from his drink. “It’s not the diapers that are bad, it’s the no sleep that kills you. Four years in, and I still haven’t had a full night’s rest.”

“Try having twins,” Lars counters. “Jack’s terrible twos were bad enough, but now with the girls...” He shakes his head. “Alice swears they coordinate their crying shifts.”

Before Cade can respond, Lily approaches our group, her phone in hand. She lightly touches Cade’s arm. “Sorry to interrupt, but the babysitter’s calling. Time to speak to the kids before bedtime.”

Cade immediately straightens, all traces of the hardened criminal vanishing. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Lily assures him with a small smile. “Emma just refuses to sleep without saying goodnight to Daddy.”

Lars checks his watch and curses. “Shit, I should call too. The sitter’s watching all the kids tonight.” He downs his drink and follows Cade toward the quieter section of the club.

I smirk, watching them go. “Think I’ll wait a few years before I get kids. Not ready to stop fucking Bianca on every surface of my apartment yet.”

Cade pauses, looking back over his shoulder. “You just get creative, Blackwood. Having kids doesn’t stop the fucking—just means you learn to be quiet about it.” His eyes drift to Lily, whose cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink. “Right, baby?”

Lily’s blush deepens as she tugs Cade’s arm. “The babysitter is waiting,” she murmurs, avoiding everyone’s amused glances.

“See? Still going strong,” Cade winks before allowing Lily to pull him away. “Five years and counting!”

As they walk off, Xavier shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see Cade being a daddy. It surprises the hell out of me. The man used to gut people for looking at him wrong, and now he’s rushing off for bedtime stories.”

“Lars, though,” Xavier continues, refilling his glass, “I could always see it. Something about that quiet intensity—you knew he’d be protective as hell with his own kids.”

I nod, watching the two men disappear into the crowd with their women. It’s strange how domesticity has crept into our world of violence and power.

My thoughts are interrupted when Aurora and Gage approach our circle. Aurora’s hand rests protectively over her swollen belly. At the same time, Gage hovers beside her with that vigilance that never seems to leave his eyes.

“Happy birthday, Knox,” Aurora says with a tired smile. Her face has a glow to it, but the dark circles under her eyes tell another story.

Gage nods, adding a gruff, “Happy birthday,” before his eyes scan the room in that predatory way that’s second nature to him.

“We need to get going,” Aurora explains, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “My feet are killing me, and I can barely keep my eyes open these days.”

“Six months pregnant and she insisted on coming,” Gage says, his hand moving to support Aurora’s lower back. There’s pride in his voice, but also a tension that never fully leaves him.

“Worth it to see everyone,” Aurora insists, though she leans heavily against him.

I notice how they both carry themselves—like they’re bracing for something to go wrong even in this moment of celebration. They took longer than the others to have kids.

“Get her home,” I tell Gage, clapping him on the shoulder. “Take care of your girl.”

I spot Bianca across the room, deep in conversation with Flora, Colt, and Nash. The trio always draws her attention—not just because they’re a fascinating study in contrasts, but because she’s curious about their arrangement. I grab my drink and make my way over.

“Birthday boy,” Colt greets me with a predatory smile as I slide onto the couch next to Bianca. “We were just telling your girl about our latest show.”

“The one where Nash hung upside down for twenty minutes?” I drape my arm around Bianca’s shoulders, feeling her lean into me. “Or the one where you nearly broke your neck trying to impress Flora?”

Nash’s lips curve into a rare smile. “That was quite the performance,” he says, his voice soft as ever. His hand rests possessively on Flora’s thigh while his other arm stretches behind Colt, fingers idly tracing patterns on his shoulder.

“Worth it,” Colt shrugs, completely unashamed. “Made for a hell of an after-party.” The look he exchanges with Nash is charged with meaning.

Flora blushes slightly, her eyes dropping to her lap before she glances up at Bianca. “They’re incorrigible,” she murmurs, but the affection in her voice is unmistakable.

I notice the fascination in Bianca’s eyes as she watches them interact.

She’s been curious about their three-way relationship ever since our first session with Jenson.

She loves our occasional adventures—the way a third person heightens everything between us—but I know she doesn’t want what they have. Not permanently.

“Bianca was asking how we manage jealousy,” Flora explains, leaning slightly into Nash while reaching for Colt’s hand.

“It’s not about jealousy,” Nash says, his eyes flickering between his partners. “It’s about belonging.”

Colt nods. “We’re all pieces of the same puzzle. Take one away, and the picture’s incomplete.”

Bianca’s fingers intertwine with mine, squeezing gently. It’s her silent way of telling me she understands the difference. What we have with Jenson is just play—hot, intense, mind-blowing play—but at the end of the night, it’s always just us.

“You two ever think about making it a regular thing?” Colt asks bluntly, earning an elbow from Flora.

“We like our adventures,” I answer, meeting Bianca’s eyes. “But we’re good as we are.”

Bianca smiles up at me, and I see everything I need in that look. She’s mine, and I’m hers. Everything else is just seasoning on an already perfect meal.