"Of course, I'll tell you right now—I always win," Ross said, a smug grin on his face as he began removing his clothes.
In less than a minute, he stood completely naked, as bare as the day he was born.
"No! If you so much as lay a finger on my mother, I'll kill you! Even if I have to crawl out of the gates of hell, I'll come back and skin you alive! Mark my words, Ross Oakley! Fuck you!" Derek shouted, his voice trembling with rage.
Though his words were raw and disjointed, their meaning was unmistakably clear.
Pak!
Brandon's hand cracked across Derek's face in a hard slap, silencing him momentarily.
"Spare me the theatrics, Derek," Brandon sneered.
"But don't worry—your mom will be crying a whole lot harder tonight than you ever could."
Ross laughed, his mocking laughter reverberating through the room like a twisted echo.
Ross approached the bed, his eyes roaming over Iris's exquisite figure.
