The Ex Games 2 The Ex Games 2

◇ 18+ ONLY! ◇

Scenes, characters, dialogues and events in this story are all invented. This story contains mature themes, profanity, some violence, and graphic sexual content not intended for young readers.

• • • • PREVIEWS • • • •

◆ MILES ◆

Shoot the bastard? Watch the guy murder his own brother? Or shoot the bastard after watching him murder his own brother?

I weighed the pros and cons.  Pacing behind me, my mother could barely contain her panic.  She couldn't stop getting hysterical and was shouting at the outrageous display of violence right in the middle of my cousin's pristine dining room.  

Where the heck's Ricchar? 

The last person we expected to arrive here in the estate went on throwing punches at his victim.  This drug-dealing psycho just didn't give a crap.  

A stream of profanities.  Loud grunts of palpable fury.  Cries of terror and pain.  The stoic, tense-jawed armed guards surrounding the scene...

Were they enjoying it?  The fuck's wrong with these people?  Everything looked so out of place.  I gripped the gun but stayed put.

My best guess:  Lorenzio was having a late-night chat with Mamma here in the dining room, clueless that his brother would find him here and try to beat him up to show him what "dominance" and "untimely death" meant.

I shushed my mother as we kept a safe distance from the Tomassini brothers.  Let it all play out?  Or interfere and possibly get myself killed?

× × × × ×

◇ KEL ◇

Tall.  Dark.  Raven-black hair.  Muscular all over.  A looming presence.

My intakes of breaths wouldn't reach my lungs. I backed off. My hands and legs turned numb. Why? 

Why wouldn't he stop staring at me? Deliberately intimidating.

Now he's towering over me with a full glass of wine and a crooked grin stretching his pale lips and dark beard.  Leandro sipped his drink.  "Thanks for helping my brother."  

"You're welcome. I was just trying to help."

"You know he's got a thing for your type?"  He chuckled. "Humor me. Why are you with him?"

My type?  "We're just friends, Signore."  I faked a smile at his natural talent for giving shade.  I'd rather walk out of here now, but it would be rude.

"Really good friends." Leandro grinned when I fell silent.  He stepped dangerously close to me that I could smell the alcohol on his tongue.  

Should I shove him? Run?  Shit.  Where's the guards? 

"Why Belgrade?" His heavy hands grabbed my arms.

I should scream and run. But no sounds would come out of my mouth.  My feet and legs wouldn't move.  Shit.  What's happening?

Alone, cornered,  wincing at his painful grip, I tried to push him off. 

Nothing. He didn't even budge. He looked ready and excited to drown me with his bare hands.