Page 31

“ Y ou know that saying, ‘don’t wake up a sleeping baby’? Well, the same applies to Levi. You don’t wake up a sleeping Levi unless you want to get mauled.”

Dayton’s voice slices through the haze of sleep like a buzz saw. My dreams, warm and blissfully nonsensical, shatter as the world comes into focus. The pillow under my head feels like a cloud, pressing me back toward sleep, but others in the room won’t let me drift off.

I groan, cracking one eye open just enough to make out the faint gray light filtering through the curtains. The storm outside hasn’t let up. Snow clings to the windows, frosting the edges of the glass.

The Manor’s ancient heating system barely manages to keep the place warm but under this blanket? Heaven. Or it was until this bullshit started.

“Dude, you’re pushing it,” I mumble, muffled by the pillow.

There’s a muffled giggle, soft and familiar, and my brain registers it as Sable. Of course, it’s Sable. The sound tugs at my lips, a smile threatening to creep in despite my irritation.

“Dude. I want Sable to open gifts,” Silas whines. I figured he would be just as grumpy as me about the holidays, but no. Silas fucking Morgan loves Christmas and any other gift giving holiday, and it makes me want to carve my eyeballs out and shove them in my ears. I will buy Sable whatever she wants on any given day. I don’t need a day to dictate when I can purchase what her heart desires. They’re already planning on where to take her for Valentine’s Day. Bash me over the fucking head. Maybe the Syndicate will kill me before then. That would be the only benefit, truly.

“Then open them and leave me out of it,” I snap, still clinging to the last vestiges of sleep.

The room erupts into laughter, but I ignore it, pulling the blanket tighter over my head.

A sudden weight crashes onto the bed, landing directly on my legs.

“What the fuck—” I shoot up, yanking the blanket down to glare at the intruder, and come face-to-face with Kai. He’s grinning like an idiot, wearing a stupid Santa hat that’s tilted sideways on his head.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine,” he says, leaning in to steal a kiss from my lips. He tastes like syrup and pancakes.

Without thinking, I shove him. He yelps dramatically as he tumbles to the floor, landing in a heap.

“You’re such a dick,” I mutter, rubbing my face.

“Good morning to you too,” he chirps from the floor, completely unfazed.

Dayton leans against the doorway, his arms crossed, a lazy smirk on his face. “You were warned,” he says.

“Warned?” I shoot back. “How about you warn me next time?”

Sable, sits on the armchair by the window, and hides her smile behind her coffee mug. Her blonde hair is loose, curling around her face, and she’s in matching pjs with Dayton. Her hazel eyes sparkle with amusement, and despite myself, I feel the last traces of my irritation melt away.

“Come on, Levi. It’s Christmas. You can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Watch me.”

She giggles again, and damn it, if that sound doesn’t mess with my head every time.

“All right, enough of this,” Silas grunts from the hallway. “Levi, get your ass up, or I’ll drag you out myself.”

I glance at him, taking in his bruised ribs and the faint scab over his eyebrow from the fight. He looks like hell, but the way he stands, arms crossed, makes it clear he’s not bluffing.

“Fine,” I grumble, throwing the blanket off and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The floor is freezing, and I wince as the cold hits my feet. “But if this ‘gift opening’ bullshit involves ugly sweaters or bad jokes, I’m out.”

Kai jumps up from the floor, grinning. “You’ll survive. Now, come on!”

The group herds me downstairs like I’m some kind of delinquent kid being dragged to a church service I didn’t sign up for. The smell of pine and cinnamon hits me first, followed by the sight of the tree in the corner. It’s crooked, barely making it to my waist in height, and decorated with mismatched ornaments that look like they’ve survived three decades in storage.

“When did you put this up?” I ask, genuinely surprised.

“About three hours ago,” Kai says, shrugging.

“I didn’t buy y’all shit,” I admit, crossing my arms.

“Oh, don’t be such a Grinch,” Dayton jokes, sprawling in the armchair and pulling a throw blanket over his shoulders like he’s holding court.

Sable takes her place on the couch, tucking her legs under her and pulling a blanket over her lap.

Kai dives for the presents, shaking a box over his head like a kid. “All right, who’s going first?”

Silas scowls from the opposite couch. “If it’s for me, skip it.”

Kai rolls his eyes but tosses the box to him, anyway. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Grumpy Pants.”

Silas catches it with a muttered curse, tearing into the wrapping with the kind of reluctance that screams I’m doing this under protest .

Sable catches my eye from across the room, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. My chest tightens again, but I shove the feeling aside.

It’s Christmas.

For once, the world outside can wait.

The piano’s smooth, polished keys are cool under my fingers as I play the same phrase for the third—no, fourth—time. The notes rise and fall in the quiet of the room, each one tumbling into the next like waves breaking against a shore.

But it’s not right.

“Damn it,” I mutter, my fingers faltering as the melody dissolves into nothing.

I lean forward, dragging a hand through my hair.

I only have seven days to produce a genuine suspect to the Syndicate.

I should just give them Victor’s name—buy us more time. It seems as though it won’t matter who I put in front of them. They just want someone to blame. I know I didn’t kill Victoria. The images are viciously burned into my retinas. Regardless of my feelings for her, I would have never wanted her truly dead. Not like that.

I want to find the true murderer just like her father, the leader of the Syndicate.

Just who the fuck is it?

The deadline hangs over me like a guillotine. Every tick of the clock pushing me closer to something I can’t define. We’ve gotten no closer to finding the killer. No leads. No answers.

And no more bodies.

That should feel like a relief, right? But it doesn’t.

The silence isn’t peace—it’s a warning.

I wanted to disappear for a few hours and play piano. It’s only a few more months until I have to perform this piece. A composition I’ve poured months into. Hours painstakingly spent refining every note, making it perfect, but now they seem hollow, empty.

Maybe that’s because I’m hollow.

I sigh, rolling my shoulders and flexing my fingers. My hand hovers over the keys again, but before I can press another note, I hear, “Play it again.”

I glance up, startled, my fingers pausing mid-motion.

Sable stands in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with her arms crossed. Her hair spills over her shoulders in loose golden waves.

“You’ve been spying on me?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I could hear you all the way downstairs. You sounded frustrated.”

“Frustrated doesn’t cover it,” I mutter, turning back to the piano. My hands hover over the keys, but I don’t play. “It’s like the music’s there, but I can’t… feel it.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, but I hear her footsteps crossing the room. She stops beside the piano, her hand resting lightly on the lid, her fingers brushing over the wood.

“You always feel it.”

I glance up at her, caught off guard by the certainty in her tone. For a moment, I forget the piano, the composition—everything.

But the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. If anything, it sinks deeper.

She’s an artist, like me. I’ve seen her struggle with her art, perfecting it until her fingers bleed. Both of us fight every day against this invisible force of inadequacy.

“It’s not enough,” I admit.

Her brows furrow, her lips parting like she wants to say something, but I look away, my gaze dropping back to the keys.

“This piece is supposed to be important,” I continue, my fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the keys. “Something meaningful. But it just feels… hollow. Like I’m just going through the motions.”

Sable moves closer, her hand sliding over mine, stilling my restless fingers.

“Levi, it’s not just the music, is it?”

The question hits harder than I expect—like she’s reached inside and dragged my thoughts into the light.

“You don’t even have to ask that.”

Her grip on my hand tightens, and for a moment, I think about pulling away from her, not allowing her to see this side of me, but I allow her warmth to seep into me.

“It will be over soon. We will find the killer. The Syndicate will have to leave all of us alone.”

I laugh bitterly. “Sable, we’re seven days away from God knows what, and I don’t even know where to start. Victoria’s dead. The killings have stopped, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not over. That it’s just…” I trail off, struggling for the words.

“Just the calm before the storm,” she finishes.

I nod, swallowing hard.

Her thumb brushes over my knuckles, her touch grounding. “I feel that too,” she says .

“My dad started this, and now it’s catching up with us. With me. If I don’t figure this out…”

She shakes her head, stepping closer until she’s leaning against the piano, her presence commanding my attention. “Your dad did what he did because of the woman he loved.”

“And look where it landed her,” I snap. “Dead in a ditch when I was thirteen. If I don’t do this for the Syndicate… or if we find some half-assed way to get out of this, what if they do something to you—or to Kai?”

The thought is unbearable. The image of her or Kai hurt because of me slices through my mind like a blade. “I could never let myself live with that.”

She doesn’t flinch at my words.

“Play it again,” she says after a moment, “Not for the project. Not for anyone else. Just… play.”

I take a shaky breath, my fingers hovering over the keys again.

The melody flows smoother now, the notes rising and falling like they’re meant to. I glance at Sable as I play, and she watches me intently. Her lips parted, her gaze flicking between my hands and my face.

When the last note fades, the room feels heavy with silence.

“That was beautiful.”

“It’s not done.”

“The first draft never is. Do you know how many sketches I have to draw before I even think about putting it on a canvas?”

The way she’s looking at me makes my pulse quicken. There’s something about her—something magnetic, something that makes it impossible to look away.

I push the bench back and stand, turning to face her fully. “What are you really doing up here, Sable?”

She tilts her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I came to keep you company. It’s Christmas, Levi.”

“I like being alone while I play.”

She steps closer, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the piano.

“Well maybe that’s why you can’t get past your block.”

I raise an eyebrow as she hops up onto the edge of my piano, the polished black wood creaking faintly under her weight. The hem of the red dress she slipped on after opening presents rides up slightly, revealing smooth, bare skin.

“You’re on my piano,” I mutter, my tone somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

She tilts her head, biting her bottom lip that makes my cock harden. “You gonna do something about it?”

My hands find the piano’s edge on either side of her thighs.

“How on earth do you think I can work like this? You’re so very distracting…”

She leans forward slightly, her face so close to mine that I can feel the warmth of her breath against my skin. “Play for me again.”

“Play?”

“You heard me.”

Instead of answering, I let my hands slide up her thighs, her skin soft and warm under my fingers. “I’ll play with something all right.” Her breath catches, her lips parting slightly as I grip her hips, my thumbs brushing over the curve of her waist. She grips the edge of the piano, her knuckles whitening, as I lean in and press my lips to her neck.

“Levi,” she breathes, my name trembling on her lips like a plea.

The sound sends a thrill straight through to my cock, tightening something low in my gut. I trail kisses along her collarbone, the faint scent of her perfume filling my senses. Her head tilts back, offering more of her throat, and I don’t hesitate to take it.

“You sure you want me to play?” I murmur against her skin, ignoring her pussy that is clearly aching for my touch by how her hips are attempting to roll for friction. My lips brush against the delicate hollow of her throat, and my tongue sticks out, running along the dip as she moans.

I pull back just enough to look at her, my thumb brushing against the bare skin of her thigh. “Move back. Put your legs here, on either side. Sit with your ass barely on the edge.”

Her hazel eyes hold mine as she leans, sliding back until her legs drape over the keys, her thighs spreading wide as she shifts into place. The width of the piano will make the stretch slightly uncomfortable, but that’s exactly what I want. The fabric of her dress rides higher, exposing more of her skin.

That’s when I notice.

My breath catches, my cock instantly stirring as I realize she’s not wearing underwear.

“Oh, you little fucking troublemaker,” I growl, the scent of her pussy so tantalizingly close, my mouth waters. “You are in so much trouble.”

“Am I?”

When she’s within reach, I wrench her legs open, her bare and swollen pussy revealed to me in all its slick, glistening glory. My chest tightens as I take her in, my restraint slipping.

“Who’s been using my pussy today?” I demand as my thumb brushes over her inner thigh.

“Kai and Dayton…” she admits. “And Silas.”

“At the same time?”

Her cheeks flush as she shakes her head. “No.”

My cock jumps. But she needs to be punished for her teasing behavior.

“Whose cum is currently leaking out of my cunt?”

“Kai’s.”

“I told you to start wearing underwear, Trouble.”

“I know…” she whines.

“So why did you disobey?”

“I… I’m not sure,” she stammers.

My hand cracks down on her pussy. She yelps, her hips jerking as I pull back, my palm sticky with her slickness—and Kai’s cum. The scent is heady, intoxicating.

“Hold yourself open,” I order, bringing my hand to my mouth. I drag my tongue across my palm, tasting the mix of them—and her. I suck my fingers clean.

Her chest heaves, her lips parted as she obeys, her hands reaching down to spread herself wide.

“Keep that pussy open,” I command. “I’m going to eat that delicious cunt while I play.”

I lower myself to the bench, one hand resting lightly on the keys as my other hand grips her thigh, holding her steady. My lips find her again, my tongue dragging slowly over her slick folds, savoring the taste of her.

“Lie back.”

She hesitates for half a second, her hazel eyes flicking to mine, searching. When she sees I’m not joking, she complies, leaning back onto the surface of the piano.

“Levi,” she whispers, her voice shaky.

“Quiet,” I snap, cutting her off.

She lets out a soft whimper. Her hands move toward me, her fingers threading through my hair, but I stop her with a sharp glance.

“This is a punishment, Trouble. Don’t touch me. You are to lie back while I enjoy my cunt and play my piano.”

Her hands freeze mid-air before falling back to the piano.

Satisfied, I lean in, my tongue dragging slowly over her center. Her body jerks at the contact, a strangled moan escaping her lips. The taste of her driving me wild as I move my tongue in slow strokes.

She squirms, the immediate sensation overwhelming her, but I hold her down, my fingers digging into her thighs to keep her still.

“Stay,” I growl against her sweet pussy.

My hand leaves her thigh, my fingers sliding between her folds, and she gasps as I press one inside her, curling it just enough to make her shudder. I add another, the slick heat of her clenching around me as I find a rhythm, slow and precise.

Her body arches slightly off the piano, but she doesn’t dare move her hands.

Using my free hand, I reach and touch a single key. The soft note rings out, clear and resonant, filling the room. My fingers continue their rhythm inside of her pussy, my tongue working in tandem as my other hand moves to play another note.

“Levi—” she gasps, her voice breaking into a moan as she loses herself.

I glance up at her. “I said, quiet. I’m concentrating on my composition.”

She bites her lip, her chest rising and falling rapidly as I press another key, and then another, repeating the same haunting melody. The one I haven’t been able to finish all year.

It’s simple, just a few notes one-handed, but it echoes through the room, blending with the sound of her breathless cries and the faint hum of the strings beneath her.

Her body trembles, her thighs quivering under my grip, and I know she’s close.

“Levi…”

“I know, you’re so close. Be a good fucking girl and come on my tongue. I won’t miss a fucking drop of you.”

I press my tongue against her clit, my fingers curling inside her, and her back arches off the piano as she shatters. The melody falters as her body spasms, her cries filling the room as she clenches around me.

It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

I keep going, drawing out every last tremor until she collapses against the piano, completely spent.

Only then do I stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and looking down at her, satisfied.

“Merry Christmas, Sable.”

Sable’s breath is still uneven, her chest rising and falling as she slowly pushes herself up onto her elbows. Her hazel eyes lock onto mine, a faint smile curving her lips as her gaze travels down to my still-clothed body.

Without a word, she slides off the piano, her bare feet landing on the floor. I stand there, frozen, watching as she steps between my knees, her hands brushing over my shoulders.

“Your turn.”

“Sable—” I start, but whatever I was going to say dies in my throat as she swings one leg over me on the piano bench, settling into my lap.

The warmth of her body against mine ignites something primal, and my hands instinctively find her hips, gripping them tightly as she straddles me. Her bare skin presses against the rough denim of my jeans, and I bite back a groan as she shifts.

“You’re wearing too much,” she whispers, her fingers sliding under the hem of my shirt.

I lean back slightly, my hands tightening on her hips as I search her face. “You think you’re in charge now?”

“Maybe.”

I chuckle, the sound low and dark, and slide my hands up her sides, “Careful. You might not like where that gets you.”

“I think I will.”

Her hands slide down my chest, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps, and she finds the edge of my shirt, tugging it upward. I lift my arms, letting her pull it over my head, the fabric catching briefly on my shoulders before it’s gone. The moment it drops to the floor, her lips crash into mine.

The kiss is fierce and consuming, her fingers threading into my hair, tugging just enough to make my pulse thunder. I grip her ass tightly as I deepen the kiss, my teeth grazing her lower lip, latching on and pulling it into my mouth as I suck on it.

She gasps against my mouth, her body pressing closer, her hips roll against mine.

When she finally pulls back just enough to look at me, her eyes are darker, clouded with emotion and heat.

I pause, my thumb brushing over the smooth curve of her cheek, my hand cradling her face as she leans into the touch. Her expression softens, the teasing edge fading as she looks at me like she’s waiting for something, her hand reaching up to cover mine where it rests on her face.

“I need you to know something.”

Her brows furrow slightly. “What is it?”

“Sable, I?—”

I stop, dragging in a shaky breath, and her fingers tighten around mine, her thumb brushing gently against the back of my hand.

“You can tell me.”

“I love you,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can second-guess them. They hang in the air between us, heavy and vulnerable. “I love you, Sable. I don’t know when it started or how, but… I do. I love the way you just… see me, even when I don’t want to be seen.”

But then she moves, sitting up slightly and cupping my face in her hands.

“I see you, Levi. I see you, and I—” She pauses. “I love you, too.”

I kiss her again, this time slower, softer, pouring everything I feel into the way our lips move together.

This isn’t just lust, or need, or whatever label I used to justify my feelings before.

This is love.

And for the second time, I don’t feel the need to run from it.