Page 61 of Undisputed Chaos
Jax
He actually thinks that’s romantic…
Adrian
It’s HEAD OVER HEELS romantic.
I grinned. Now they knew my angel was very much real, and I was very much taking good care of her.
I focused back on Isla, becoming entranced by her knowledge, her passion for things I'd never given a second thought to.
She spoke about ingredients and formulas with the same passion I reserved for dismembering bodies or sorting my novels. It was endearing as fuck.
Isla’s livestream went on, her words flowing, talking color, fabric, design.
Occasionally, she’d risk a glance my way and catch my over-the-top wink or slow, obscene lick of my spoon. Her words would falter, and her cheeks would burn, her hand drifting to the ribbon.
"Comments time! She cheered, leaning closer to her screen. "Questions, questions… any questions?”
I set down the ice cream, attention sharpened.
I’d been monitoring the chat from my phone, watching her followers flirt in the comments.
Most of it was innocent enough—questions about products, compliments on her dress, the predictable.
"'Where did you get that ribbon? It's so pretty!" she read aloud, herfingers moving to her throat like she couldn’t help herself, twisting the silk, eyes flicking at me.
“Oh, this? It was a gift… from someone special.”
The possessive heat that flooded through me at those words was immediate and visceral.
Someone special.Damn right I was. I spun my knife faster between my fingers, my emotions running hot.
She continued reading comments, answering questions about her painting techniques and upcoming content plans. Then her voice changed, just slightly, and my gaze locked on hers.
"Are you single? You're gorgeous and so pretty,” she read, the blush on her cheeks deepening. Her mouth parted, staring at me as if seeking permission.
My insides snapped taut.
Dark and primal possession uncoiled in my chest. Mine. She wasmine.I'd marked her, claimed her, I’d made her come apart with my mouth.
And now some faceless fuck on the internet thought they had the right to ask if she wassingle?
I set down the knife and stood slowly, every muscle locked tight and dangerous.
She clocked me instantly, eyes wide as she watched me close in. She couldn’t hide the thrill twisting into her voice, and the comments kept flowing obliviously.
I stepped carefully behind her, just out of frame. I fucking loved this—Isla center stage, me a monster at the wings.
I calculated exactly how I would appear to her audience, waiting for the right moment.
Her eyes caught mine in the display, and my hands came down into frame, tattooed and dangerous, gripping the back of her chair
Just my torso and arms were visible—the green button-up I'd worn earlier rolled to my elbows, unbuttoned at my chest, exposing scars and ink layered over muscle.
Isla's breathing quickened, but she didn't turn or acknowledge me,trying to maintain her professional demeanor as she read another comment. "Yes, I'll definitely do a tutorial on?—"
My hand slid slowly around her throat, fingers wrapping around her skin. Not tight, but enough to make her words catch.
