Page 59 of Devils Cut

"Nothing?" I glance around our place, noticing the large windows that could use some dressing up. "What about curtains? And throw pillows?"

Her laughter is like music to my ears. "Well, yes, I would love curtains, but nope, no throw pillows, thanks. You gotta take them off the bed every night and then put them back on. Waste of money if you ask me."

"Fuck," I chuckle, shaking my head. "This is why I love you." The way she sees things so practically never gets caught up in unnecessary details. She just... keeps it real.

"Whatever," she says with a smirk, rolling her eyes as she walks out of the kitchen.

With breakfast on my mind, I get to work making grilled cheese sandwiches. The sizzle of butter hitting the pan calms me somehow.

The ringing phone pierces the silence, tearing me away from the comforting sizzle of the grilled cheese. I left the damn thing in the bedroom. Of course.

"Here," Tempest says, sauntering back into the kitchen, holding out my phone. She's only in her underwear, and it takes all my willpower not to growl and pull her close. "Thank you, Princess," I manage to say, reaching for the phone.

She laughs at my struggle, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Answer your phone, VP," she teases, before stepping away.

"Corvus," I snap, finally swiping the answer button.

"Morning," Mr. Pavlov greets me, his voice cold and measured. "Are you free to meet today? I have fixed my little problem and would like to arrange future business with you personally."

Shit. I wanted this day off with Tempest. But this deal... It could mean more money and less go-between bullshit. My chest tightens as I weigh the options, knowing that every choice has a cost.

"Fine," I say, gritting my teeth. "Meet me at the warehouse at 11." I hang up before Pavlov can reply.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, already hating that this day is slipping away from me. I dial Killer's number, hoping he won't be too pissed off about being summoned on his day off.

"Whaddya want, VP?" he grumbles, clearly just woken up.

"Killer, I need you to watch Tempest for a couple of hours today. Be here at 10:50."

"Sure thing, VP," he mumbles, and I hang up before he can complain any further.

Tempest walks back into the kitchen, her concern replaced with a smile. I hand her a plate with the grilled cheese sandwich, perfectly toasted, and say, "I have to go see the Russian mafia at 11. I'll only be gone for two hours. Killer will come and sit with you, then we can go curtain shopping."

"Okay," she smiles, accepting the situation. I lean down and kiss her deeply, grinding against her as I feel the fire between us ignite once more.

"Still got a couple of hours, Princess," I whisper huskily in her ear, reaching out and flicking the stove off. My appetite for her outweighs any hunger for food.

"Corvus, you're insatiable," she laughs, but I can see the desire in her eyes. I lift her into my arms and carry her back to the bedroom.

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The wind roars in my ears as I ride my Harley down the dirt road, kicking up dust behind me. Sun's high in the sky, casting long shadows over the abandoned warehouse up ahead. Hammer and Nate are already there, leaning against their bikes like they own the place.

I pull up next to them, cutting the engine with a flick of my wrist. The world goes eerily quiet as I climb off my bike, my boots crunching on the gravel beneath me.

"Why is it that we always beat you here?" Hammer smirks, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Fuck off," I shoot back, not bothering to hide my annoyance. "You both live closer than I do! Simple math."

Nate chuckles, shaking his head. "Could've fooled me with how slow you ride, old man."

"Old man?" I snort. “We are the same fucking age cock face.”

"Nah mate I’m 6 months younger?" Hammer teases, grinning from ear to ear.

"Fuck off," I laugh.

"Where's Trey?" Hammer asks, scanning the area like the cunt is playing hide and seek.

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