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Dorian

She ran from me. Briana turned around and walked away from me. And I stood there like a complete idiot, letting the girl of my dreams escape.

But what else could I do? She hadn't said anything in her defense. That was more damning than anything else.

We weren't exclusive, as far as I knew. Or at least we'd never mentioned being exclusive. But I thought she felt the same as I did. And my cousin? My fucking asshole of a cousin?

I needed to get to the bottom of what happened between them. I needed to know if it was even worth my time to pursue her. Briana might not have anything to say, but Kendall sure as hell would. I'd make sure of it.

I bribed the guy at the front desk to give me Kendall's room number, then headed through the crowded casino floor to the elevator. My hands were practically shaking, and I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't stop thinking about what Briana and Kendall may have done together. Even if we'd never discussed exclusivity, how could she go to him? It was worse than when I thought about Enzo being able to seduce her.

And the worst part was, I was more worried about what he was going to do to her. Kenny had been my enemy for as long as I could remember, and I knew he pursued her because of me. He'd hurt her because of me. He was the nastiest fucker in the family, hands down. Too lazy to do any honest work but willing enough to put forth the effort when it came to manipulation and revenge.

I banged my fist against Kendall's door not caring if I caused a scene. A couple minutes later, the door swung open to reveal my cousin, dressed in an off-the-rack suit but looking like he thought the world of himself. As per usual.

“Cousin.” He greeted me with his usual smarmy smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

My response was an elbow to his gut as I barged into his room, not bothering to give him a chance to tell me to leave while I was still in the hall.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

He pushed the door closed and walked toward me with steady, even steps. He was trying to play the sort of big man he'd never be, but it was plain as day that he was quaking in his boots at my sudden appearance.

He lifted an eyebrow, feigning confidence. “Shouldn't I be asking you that? After all, you're the one who barged into my room. Maybe I should ask security.”

I set my jaw and resisted the urge to knock him out. “What the fuck are you doing in Las Vegas, Kenny? I won't ask twice.”

“I'm just seeing the sights, same as anybody else.” He shrugged and detoured to the bar, where he started to pour out two drinks.

It would be nothing short of a miracle if I managed to stop myself from smashing one of the glasses against his head.

“And do those sights you're seeing have anything to do with Briana?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

His lip curved at the side, eyes half-closed with amusement. “Perhaps.”

My thin thread of control snapped. I strode toward him, knocking aside the drink he'd been about to hand me. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him hard against the wall. His skull smacked it with a loud crack.

I snarled at him. “Tell me why you're here. You have five seconds before I start breaking bones. I don't give a damn that we're technically family.”

Kendall's smug exterior withered. He'd always been a coward; he was just good at hiding it most of the time. His face grew pale, eyes darting left and right to try to find an escape route. But I was bigger and stronger. And I was pissed.

“I just wanted to see if she'd be faithful to you, that's all,” he whined. “I swear I wasn't trying anything.”

“Have you slept with her?”

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he didn't answer. I smacked him against the wall again and shouted the question. “Have you slept with her?”

His voice was barely a squeak. “Not recently.”

Something dark and heavy filled my chest. I'd been pissed off before he confirmed it. Now I was livid.

“What do you mean not recently?” My voice, cold and low and dangerous, sent a visible shiver of fear through him.

“I mean that I slept with her in the past, but it was years ago.” He winced and glanced down to where the neck of his shirt was digging into his throat. “Can you let me go? I'll tell you whatever you want to know. You don't need to throttle me.”

Reluctantly, I let him down. He bent over, wheezing dramatically, and rubbed a hand along his sore neck. After what he just told me, I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about it.

“Speak,” I commanded.

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