Leigh bites back a laugh. “Nice. Men like them”—she studies the room of ten formidable godfather types, though I’m not sure if she’s including Bernard in this—“require a lioness to tame them.”
“Hey,” Rena hollers, “no girl time without me. Get over here, Mercy and Tessa.”
Maddox beams, and my face flushes. I might be apprehensive about exchangingI love yous when our life is spinning out of control, but with that elation staining his face, I’m brought back to his mom telling him love was an action. He embodies that perspective in everything he does. Even the wayhe silently cheers for me being included is a statement of how well he loves me.
Cash steps over to take Remy from me and lays him on another couch before we make our way to the new mom. Jax refuses to move from Rena’s bed, but she permits him to mingle with the ladies. The rest of us crowd around her while the Noire men and Bernard hang out with Ty, Wells, Liam, and Gage to watch the news.
Rena pulls me in close and whispers in my ear, “People think Maddox never takes life seriously, but sometimes, the ones who throw a party for everyone else are the loneliest inside. I’ve never seen him this lit up, Tessa. It’s so much more. And now I’ll get to call you sister.”
I’m not even shocked that my stomach flips with excitement at the thought of being a Noire someday. When Maddox announced me as his future wife at the festival, I assumed it had to do with claiming me. When he said it to my father, his fingers were inside me, so there were too many other factors to focus on. Rena implying it amid this wholesome gathering feels like an honor.
“You can think of me as a sister,” I tell her, “but Maddox and I aren’tthereyet. Let’s take one milestone at a time. I think you becoming a mom is enough for today.”
“You might not have the official title yet, but you’re there.” She shimmies her shoulders in a little dance move. “We can also focus on my perfect babies though.”
We cozy up and chat about all things La Lune Noire, employee high jinks that Rena’s missed. She tells us about the antics that go on in their French chateau. From what she says, it’s huge, and they all have their separate areas, but caring for four little ones—the twins, George, and Ivy and Wells’s little girl, Felicity, who is currently asleep in a playpen—will be hectic. And Rena casually drops that she wants a whole litter.
“The Stanley Cup?” one of the guys roars, and we all twist to see what’s going on.
There’s a breaking news story about the highly guarded NHL championship trophy, the Stanley Cup, being stolen.
“You think that’s real?” Wells asks.
Liam opens his laptop, fingers flying frantically over the keys.
“Must be real. What would be the angle to use that?” Gage howls. The man is massive, all bald head, muscles, and tatted rage. “Look to see if there’s anything shady around that Arizona town.”
I nudge Ivy while the speculation continues because she seems to be equally invested, and I appreciate her quiet strength. “What do they mean, is it real?”
She ponders her response for a beat, stringing her fingers through her ginger locks, but when she arrives at an answer, it’s obvious she’s trying to be forthright. “There are people who manipulate the media. Occasionally, stories you see across several platforms are fabricated for various reasons. We’ve been investigating them.”
I don’t know much about what they do, other than Liam helping Maddox. My time at La Lune Noire has taught me never to ask outright. But I’m certain they aren’t working for a law-abiding organization to investigate false news stories.
The whole idea is disturbing. That type of power could dismantle society. Or the underworld.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to pepper her with questions about how the media manipulation works when the next story catches my attention.
“The cold case on Niko Makarov has been reopened. What was dismissed as a young man disappearing in rebellion is now being labeled a murder case. New sources have come forward. Authorities initially speculated that it was gang-related,as there were alleged ties to organized crime. However, recent discoveries are pointing to an unlikely killer, far removed from the crime world.”
My stomach knots, the contents clambering its way to my esophagus, blazing an acidic trail of terror. Wells starts flipping channels, surfing for who knows what, when he stops on another news station.
“… discoveries are pointing to an unlikely killer, far removed from the crime world.”
That’s the exact same wording as the other news report. Creepy.
I excuse myself from the girls as nonchalantly as I can and saunter over to Maddox, who is in a heated conversation with the other men. I’m not sure who here, other than Axel and Ryker, suspects that I killed Niko, but it’s too late to allow that to be a concern.
Axel’s sapphires land on me with both empathy and fortitude. He’s always a pillar of strength, but there’s an undeniable trace of distress when he lifts my chin with what feels like an order and an explanation at once. “You can’t believe everything you hear on the news.”
I arch a brow as my heart hammers erratically. “Fabricated?”
“Yes.” Wells smiles, scratching his neatly trimmed scruff and eyeing Ivy, aware she spilled about the media.
“Why?” I press, surprised that Maddox hasn’t interjected anything.
No one responds, leaving it up to him to fill me in or keep me in the dark. The air thickens, and ire swarms my veins, but I choose to afford him a beat to make the correct decision.
His conflict is evident when his eyes latch to mine. “They’re nullifying my claim.”
