I’m not impressed. We’re here for Priest’s wedding, but this is also a week off for me. Much-needed after all the shit we’ve been through over the last year.
“The door was locked for a reason,” I tell him.
“It was also unlocked for a reason. You’re never still sleeping at this time of the morning. For all I knew, someone clipped you in your sleep.”
I move my forearm and shoot him a glare with one eye. “You couldn’t be so lucky. Just because we’re majority owners of this place now doesn’t give you the right to run around unlocking all the doors. What if I wasn’t alone in here?”
“Actually, it does give me that right, when the door in question belongs to my consigliere. And you are alone, so the second part of your argument can also fuck off. Now, get up. We’ve got shit to do.”
I sigh. “Then get out, or you’re about to get the kind of show I don’t think you’ll like very much.”
“You have fifteen minutes,” Priest warns me before heading out of my suite and leaving me in peace.
I don’t waste any time in getting my tired ass out of bed and heading to the shower, where I reluctantly wash all traces of last night off me.
As much as the sex was off-the-charts incredible, Isla and I are a one-and-done thing. I know her room number, but I won’t be knocking on the door. I also won’t be back at the bar, just in case I’m tempted to go another round. Tomorrow is the wedding, and then I’ll be flying stateside to run the ship whilePriest and Luna enjoy an extended honeymoon. I can’t afford to be distracted.
A one-night stand is all I can manage. Anything else? It’s too fucking dangerous.
After a quick shower, I dress and towel-dry my hair before heading out to meet up with my brothers. Today is Priest’s bachelor party. It’s all about my brother. Not anything else.
So why the fuck can’t I get a pair of green eyes out of my mind as the elevator doors close in front of me? I really need to think about something else, so I whip out one of my burner phones and check for messages from back home. We don’t anticipate anything going wrong while we’re away, but this is also the first time all three of my brothers and I have been out of our territory at the same time since we were kids and our dad took us to Florida to try to make up for our mom walking out on us a few years earlier.
That trip ended with me having a black eye, courtesy of my old man. Lucky spent most of the time crying, Scorpion was pissed at the world, Priest was quiet and angry, and I was hell-bent on running the fuck away from it all. I got as far as the hotel lobby until our dad caught me and hauled me back to our room while the shocked desk clerks watched.
But he was Don Andriani, so he threw some money at them, threatened to have them chopped up and tossed into the nearest concrete foundation as it was being poured, and got the fuck out of town. No one ever said shit. Not evenZiaMaria when we got back home.
With the ugly past chasing my hard-on, I make the short walk out of the hotel and into the sunshine to Priest’s bungalow. In preparation for the big day, he and Luna have his-and-hers digs, complete with their own wait staff twenty-four seven. They’re being serious about the whole not-seeing-the-bride on the big day bad-luck thing.
Like my big brother, I don’t bother to knock at the bungalow door. I just walk right in as Priest is finishing up scolding our two younger brothers.
“No one’s allowed to drink tonight,” he announces.
“The fuck?” Lucky demands.
“It’s the wedding Luna’s been waiting for, and I don’t want you assholes to be hungover and fuck it up for her.”
“How would she know if I’m hungover?”
“You’d be puking in the sand,” I point out.
Lucky’s the youngest. He’s a hothead with a wild streak that our father did his damnedest to beat out of him. It didn’t work.
“I haven’t puked since I was eighteen,” Lucky defends himself, frowning.
Like this is a badge of honor or something.
“No drinking,” Scorpion tells Lucky. “Don’t question the fucking don.”
“He’s not the don here. He’s just our brother.”
“I’m the don everywhere I go,” Priest says in a commanding tone, “and if you don’t act like a fucking grown-ass man, I’ll send you to Connecticut when I get back.”
“Jesus, not Connecticut,” Lucky grumbles.
“And no women either,” Priest adds, giving me a pointed look.
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Why are you looking at me?”
