Page 193 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Declan

One second, we’re kissing; the next, she's taken from me. She hits the ground and screams. I jump toward her, but the man who threw her off, steps in between us. How did I not notice him enter the room? How did I not hear him walk toward us? Was I so engrossed in her I didn’t realize there was someone else in the room?

"Who the fuck are you?" he asks in heavily accented English. His looks are swarthy, his hair cut close to his scalp. The shape of his face is similar to hers, and his eyes are the same color, too. He seems older than me, but surely, he’s too young to be her father.

Solene jumps up and throws herself at him. "Diego, l-leave him alone."

He raises his arm and catches her in the face. She screams again and falls to the floor with a thud.

The sound slices through my head, my heart. Anger surges through my veins, and blood pounds at my temples. "You hurt her? You fucking laid a hand on her?"

I throw up my fist and catch him in the chin.

He staggers back, and a fierce satisfaction blooms in my chest. I raise my fist again, and this time, bury it in his nose.

I feel the crunch of cartilage, and blood drips from his face.

I follow it up with a blow to his side, then his stomach.

He bends over, and this time, I raise my fist and catch him in an upper cut.

He groans; his entire body snaps up and back. I raise my arm, close my fingers into a fist and pull back, but Solene throws herself between us. "Stop, h-he’s my b-brother! P-please don’t hurt him, p-please d-don’t."

I glare at her, then at the man who straightens, then rolls his neck. Fucker’s powerfully built; only reason he’s still standing. A weaker man would be on the floor by now. He grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her. "What were you doing with him? Did you fuck him?"

Solene cringes. She glances from her brother to me, then back to him.

Diego’s features darken. "Did you lose your virginity to him. Did you—"

"N-n-no." she shakes her head. "N-no, you’re mistaken, I-I-I—" She draws in a breath, "I-It’s n-nothing like that."

"Then how is it?" He thrusts his face into hers. "Talk to me, little sister."

The color fades from her face. Her entire body shivers.

"Solene—" I growl.

"S-stop, d-don’t come c-closer." Her voice rings out, her stutter more apparent than ever.

She tips up her chin, squares her shoulders, then addresses her brother. "He…he c-came in through the w-window. I d-d-don’t know who h-he is. I’ve never s-s-seen him before in my l-life. He forced me to k-k-kiss him… It’s n-not my f-f-fault, I-I swear."

My heart somersaults in my chest. My vision tunnels. She’s lying. Why the fuck is she lying? Anger twists my guts. "Solene!" I take a step in her direction, when two more men burst into the room.

It seems to shake her out of her reverie for she turns to me. Her green eyes are luminous, her lips trembling. "Run," she mouths at me. Then she squeezes her eyelids shut and a teardrop squeezes out from the corner of her eye.

"Get that pezzo di merda and teach him a lesson he'll never forget," Diego snaps.

I shove myself out the window, and leap toward the tree outside her room.

I grab hold of the branches, turning at the last moment to see her staring at me with tears streaking her face.

Then, the men crowd the window. One of them reaches over to grab at the tree as I half slide, half fall down the length of the tree trunk.

I hit the ground and lay there, winded for a few seconds.

The shower of leaves tells me the men are right behind me.

I jump up, try to run, then growl when my ankle gives out under me.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." I hobble forward, dragging my wounded leg. One step, a second. A thump, and I know the first of the men have hit the ground. Another thump, then footsteps thud in my direction. I try to speed up, make it another few steps before someone slams into me.

I hit the ground and am turned over. I throw up my arms to protect my face, and a fist smashes into my chest. Fire lights a path to my brain.

I wheeze, keep my arms raised as fists pummel my side, my chest. I curl into a ball, then manage to pull back my uninjured leg and kick out, catching the guy in the face.

He falls back. I manage to jump up, but the second man swings at me. His fist smashes into my forehead. Pain slashes through my head. Sparks flash behind my eyes, and fucking hell—not my face, you bastards—I lower my head and manage to head-butt him.

He staggers back, crashes into the first guy who’s already rightened himself. He goes down again and doesn’t move.

The second man swings at me, this time, landing an uppercut. Sparks explode behind my eyes. Blood drips from my mouth. I manage to straighten, and he lands a punch in my forehead.

The force throws me back. My body arcs through the air, and I hit the ground.

He races toward me and kicks me in the side.

I yell, but he kicks me again and again.

I manage to grab his leg and twist. He falls to the ground.

I kick his head, and he stops moving, only a third guy appears from out of nowhere.

He charges toward me. I kick his leg out from under him, and he hits the ground, only to jump up again.

Fucking hell. I manage to stagger to my feet, then land my fist in his face.

Fucker’s bigger than me. He absorbs the blow and keeps coming.

I block his next hit, then he smashes his fist into my nose.

There’s a breaking sound, and blood pours down my chin.

White throbbing flashes of agony shudder out to my extremities.

I throw up my fist, miss. He lands his next punch in the side of my head.

Black spots flash before my eyes. The world tilts.

I look up to find I’m on my back on the ground.

The second guy grins down at me. At least, blood smears his teeth.

Motherfucking bastard. He raises his leg, I grab at it, tug, and he hits the ground and stays still.

My panting fills my ears, and blood thuds at my temples. Every breath I take sends spears of agony screeching up my side. I try to rise up, but my arms and legs don’t seem to be cooperating.

Then, the first guy I felled hobbles over to me. He raises his leg, and sneers at me. "You dare touch one of our girls? You’re going to pay for it, you testa di cazzo!"

He brings his foot down toward my head, and everything goes dark.

I come awake with a start. White. Everything is white. The scent of antiseptic clogs my nostrils. I try to move, but pain slices through my side. I must groan, for a face appears in my line of sight.

"Easy, ol’ chap," Knight murmurs.

"What happened? Am I in a hospital?"

"Indeed. You’re back in Blighty."

"How?" I cough.

Knight’s face disappears from view, only to reappear holding a bottle with a straw. "Here."

I sip from it, and when I’m done, he places it on the side table. “It didn’t sit right that I’d let you go on alone. Within an hour of you leaving I came after you. I found them beating the shit out of you, and fuck if I didn’t return the favor."

"Motherfuckers," I breath through the next wave of pain. "I should have done a better job of defending myself."

"You injured them; gave me a fighting chance to get the better of them. It’s what saved your life."

"He’s being modest. If he hadn’t gotten you on a flight out of there with doctors in attendance to patch you up, you might have popped it, buddy," a new voice growls.

I groan, "Fuck, don’t tell me; it’s the prodigal son, himself."

"You bet." Cade slaps my shoulder. Bursts of white and red flare behind my eyes. I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing my groan.

"The fuck you doing here?"

"Heard you got beat up; had to come see how your pretty face was faring."

Face. My face. I reach up to touch my forehead, then wince. I have a bandage around my forehead, and oh, I’m in a neck brace. Fucking hell. "How bad is it?" I snap.

Cade and Knight glance at each other. Neither speaks.

"How bad? Tell me."

Something passes between the two of them, then Knight turns to me.

"I won’t sugarcoat it—"

"Don’t."

"It’s bad."

"Right." I swallow. I wasn’t lying when I told Solene I was narcissistic.

I only came into my looks when I turned eighteen.

Until then, I was a too-tall-for-my-age, bespectacled nerd with an IQ so high, it was both a blessing and a curse.

It meant I got into Oxford at thirteen; it also meant I got bullied for everything.

From my relative youth to my too-large-for-my age form, everything was fair game.

Until I took part in a university play, and everything changed.

I discovered I could go on stage and forget about who I was.

I could assume any persona I wanted and become that character.

One not saddled with a brain so powerful it was more of a liability.

From there, it was only logical that I pursue the one profession which depended on my looks and my acting talent.

The only thing I ever wanted was to become a successful actor and now—now it seems even that might be out of reach.

"The wound on your forehead is likely to scar. You also have a smaller gash on your cheek, a broken nose—which, if you’re lucky, will heal without needing any more surgery to fix it. You have three broken ribs, a sprained neck, a cracked femur, a broken ankle, many lacerations—"

"And a concussion," Cade pipes in.

"Thanks, man." I narrow my gaze on him. "Aren’t you supposed to be playing in some tournament or another?"

"Yes, but I’d rather be sitting here gloating over your wounds than facing down a ball. Besides, the prize money wasn’t that big for this one."

"You need it, though."

Cade’s working his way up the leagues. His goal is to play for the English cricket team. Of the three of us, he’s the one who comes from an unprivileged background. Which means, he’s also always strapped for cash.