There’s no room for fuckups.
Lorcan and Jude know what I need from them. Quinn is doing her magic around the estate without anyone noticing. And Saskia is providing the necessary distraction. The only potential fuck up was Dino, but I’ve got that under control—I hope. Can he be trusted? Or will his distrust of me get in the way?
With the wedding happening so fast, I’ve not had time to reflect on the fact that I have no idea where Dante is. He’s the wildcard in all of this. He won’t reply to my messages and hasn’t given any indication of where he is.
Fucking Dante.
When the boys, Jude and Lorcan, arrive later in the day, heralded by the dogs barking their heads off the roar of high-performance car engines, the tension in my shoulders eases a touch. As they step through the doors, Jude strides over and possesses my mouth, hands all over my body, in a move of pure ownership. He smells of vanilla and bergamot and all things Jude. I close my eyes briefly, allowing my mouth and senses to be invaded by him and only him. I’ve let myself forget during the two weeks at home how much they ground me.
“Tell me you’re fucking okay?” Jude demands, breaking the spell and the kiss to raze his eyes over me from the bottom up.
“I’m fine,” I say without fanfare. We have an audience. Gigi and her men escorted them in, unhappily, I might add, but they are part of the wedding party, so she has no fucking say. As well, I outrank her. Adrien at least made good on his word to announce me his second for a short time before my eventual union to Vice.
Having walked in with the cases, Lorcan comes to stand behind me, claiming the space so no one else can. He slides a hand around my waist. The second Jude shifts his own to my ass, sandwiching me between them.
“You’re a fucking sight for sore eyes,” Lor drawls in my ear, nuzzling and nipping my neck with his lips and teeth. His scent penetrates through my shitty mood and teases a sigh from my lips. “Edrei has agreed to meet here,” he says in a low voice.
“Did you speak to him?”
“No, Kat’s arranged it with him. He’ll be here the day before the wedding.”
I give a soft nod, sorting through my head the deal I need to make with Dante’s father, the agency’s owner. I don’t need D. I can go above him. Since Dante told me Iskar worked for my father, I assumed that meant Adrien owned the agency. But Polina and Iskar are both Camorra mafia. Dante has never stopped working for them, even when going against Adrien. It was easy enough to put two and two together.
I show the boys to their rooms, not trusting anyone else to see that they get there without issue, and then leave them to settle. There are a thousand things to be done when planning a fucking wedding. Who knew?
But now they’re here, all three of them, under my roof, it’s evident…
One alone is not enough.
I need them all.
Jude is my rock. Lorcan is my faith. And Dino was the light to my darkness.
I just need to get through to him.
Just as I’m leaving, walking down the hallway that connects the East Wing with the rest of the house, I spot Sorrow Vice hovering at the end, gazing sweeping past me toward the room where the boys are located. She hasn’t seen me and almost jumps out of her skin when I say her name.
“Fuck, you scared me,” she says, color draining from her face when she sees it’s me.
I raise a brow at her. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“Sorry, jumping at shadows today,” she mumbles.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I see. Are you lost? This wing is for guests of the bride only.”
“Saskia sent me to pick up a bag from her brother.”
“Lorcan and Jude are at the far end.”
She nods and me and then shuffles off in that direction. Something about her seems off, but Dino turns up with some men flanking him at that moment. I give him a look as he gives me one. His dimple pops out, begging me to bite it out. I suppress the urge and carry on walking, letting my attention run elsewhere, even as it wanders back to our ‘talk’ the night before.
If you could call it that.
“Some talk,” Dino says after a few minutes of us both staring at each other, listening to the rain patter outside the window. He cocks his head at me, brow furrowed, waiting.
Talking has never been my strong point. I’m a stab first, ask questions later kind of girl.
Where to begin? What to say.