“How long do we have to stay?” Fallon asks, slipping her hand into mine as we pass the security arch, her silver dress catching light in soft ripples. “Can we do one of those Irish exits in thirty minutes?”
I tug her close to me and whisper in her ear, “Between that and you clawing at me for sex every night, begging for my cock, I created a monster.”
Her smile glows brighter than the sparkling lights strung overhead. “You didn’t answer me.”
“I’d rather be home sharpening knives, eating mac and cheese, and watching the ball drop on television. With you.”
“So why aren’t we?”
“We will have a grand view of the fireworks show over the East River.” I bring her to the roof’s edge, protected by six-inch-thick by eight-foot-high glass barriers.
“I like the fireworks we make.” She squeezes my hand.
“Me too, love.” I kiss her nose. “Do you like your engagement ring?”
“I love my ring.” She lifts her hand and sighs dreamily,admiring the diamonds.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want the five-carat option.”
“That was audacious. And besides…” She presses the ring to her cheek. “This is exactly what I knew you’d pick out.”
“Why?”
She glances around. “You didn’t grow up rich.”
“No. Not money-wise. But we were happy.” I tug her closer and realize she had the exact opposite childhood. A rich father who gave her nice clothes and things, but nothing in the emotional department.
My parents are already smothering her. I don’t know who in my family is happier. It’s a five-way tie, including Shea.
In the center of the room, Connor, Raina, and Griffin have gathered around a black velvet banquet. Shane and Lennox skipped the party, but it’s because they just had a baby girl.
Ava isn’t here either, which is odd. But I heard she’s expecting again, so maybe she stayed home. Wait, nope, she’s with her brothers, on the other side of the roof, arguing with Ares.
Clocking faces, this place is filled with a sea of CEOs, politicians, celebrity surgeons, the city’s top attorneys, billionaire chefs, sports club owners, a priest, and a few very distinguished university presidents.
Ares isn’t securing allies. He has summoned subjects. That consolidation he talked about is closer at hand than we thought.
Trace and Shea amble over to us, my brother seeing what I’m seeing.
“This is quite the guest list,” I say to Trace, holding on to Fallon.
“Something feels off here,” he says, glancing around.
“My husband is right.” Shea narrows her eyes across thesea of suits. “There is something very off here tonight. No one looks happy.”
“There’s a lot of pressure on New Year’s Eve,” Fallon adds.
She doesn’t see it. But Trace does, and so do I. We’ve been trained for this.
With Ava no longer waving a finger at her brother, Ares moves through the crowd like a lion inspecting his pride.
People part for him, offering a bow as he passes. Even the bleedin’ priest. Holy crap.
Then I catch a woman walking a few feet behind him. It doesn’t click right away, but when Ares reaches back and takes her hand to bring her to his side, my heart drops into my stomach.
Lourdes Sinclair is stunning, a bombshell in a maroon silk dress that wraps around her curvy body. Her bright blonde hair is a shocking contrast to her blood red lipstick and black mascara.
“She’s very pretty.” Fallon always strips things down to the basics. “But she looks sad.”
