Valor lets out a yawn. “Well, that was eventful. We better figure out what Steffano Bianchi will want, though, so we’re not caught negotiating with our asses hanging out.”
“I’ve already been going through what I could uncover. His tech is surprisingly well set up, but the maintenance is a little lacking. From what I can find, he’s still up to some bad shit.” Royal looks at me, and his gaze is weighted with heavy emotion. “I’ll fill you in, but I want to get Doc to look her over first.”
“Already sent him a text. He’ll be here soon.” Betty reassures him. “Why doesn’t Leticia help me figure out what to have for dinner, and the three of you go look over some inventory numbers and be productive.”
She’s practically dismissive with them, but they don’t argue... Well, Valor and Ian don’t. They make their way out toward the garage while Royal remains in place.
“Can we have a minute?” Royal gestures between him and me.
“The last time I let you two have a minute, we got into the middle of an Italian deal. Is that really the best idea?” She huffs.
I’m really taken aback by how strong-willed Betty is with the men of the house. She doesn’t concede or bow to any of them.
Royal looks at the floor and mumbles, “No.”
“I’ll do it anyway since I’m sure I’ll find her in your bed in the morning, but you’re not off the hook. Fated mate or not, you know this wasn’t the way to get what you want.”
Fated what?I have to assume that’s a wolf thing but not exactly something I need to expend brain space on at the moment with everything else going on.
Betty stands, crosses the room, and pats him on the shoulder. “But when the dust settles, know that we’ll be extremely happy for you both.”
As soon as the door to the garage opens and closes one more time, Royal rushes to me. He kneels at my feet and gently reaches for me. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” I repeat. “Am I okay? I told you not to do this. It’s too dangerous. What if something happened? What if Dad got mad and hurt you? Your family could be in so much trouble. Even though they’re acting like this is just business as usual. It’s weird. No, I’m not okay.”
“I’m so sorry he hurt you. I had no idea he’d — I should have assumed he’d have done this to you, and I didn’t have a better plan in place to protect you when he found out.” Royal has tears in his eyes, the deep brown intensified by moisture. “Forgive me?”
“Of course I forgive you.” I lean forward, trying to get closer to him.
“Take it easy.” He brings his hand up and lightly brushes at my hairline.
The barest pressure sends a sharp sting through my skull, and my right arm aches.Maybe I’m more hurt than I thought?
“I can’t wait for the doctor to get here and get you checked out.” Royal’s nostrils flare. “I want to hurt Gregorio the same way he hurt you.”
“I don’t like that.” I shake my head. “I don’t like the idea of you stooping to his level.”
“Fine.” Royal leans forward and places a soft kiss against my lips. “I’m glad you’re back home, where you belong.”
I nod because somehow, despite how wrong and weirdeverything is, I do feel at home. I do feel a sense of belonging.Is this what family is supposed to be like?
“I have one last confession.” Royal squeezes my hand lightly, and I look up at him again to find his cheeks turning pink. He takes a deep breath and holds my gaze. “Leticia, I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
My stomach flips, and I think what’s most surprising is that I’m not surprised at all.
I cup his cheek, wishing I could throw my arms around him. “I love you too. But I don’t know when it happened,” I whisper, but I mean it. I feel it. “I knew you loved me. I hope you knew that I loved you too.”
His lips tug upward, trying to smile, even though unspoken tension and conflict still hang heavy in the air.
I sigh. “But I’m still mad at you. I’m still not okay. I still don’t know how I feel.” I try to be firm with him because this is Royal. I don’t need to censor myself or be afraid of him. He makes it easy to share my truths, as unpleasant as they might be.
“That’s okay. You can be mad at me. I accept that I fucked up.” He nods before gently pulling me to his chest for a hug. “I can own doing something bad and let you have space to process it. But I needed you to know how I feel. I needed you to hear it.”
I draw a deep breath, his scent filling my nose, and with the exhale, a lot of my anger fades. Fear stays with me though. There’s so much uncertainty that it keeps me on edge.
The pack doctor,who simply introduced himself as Doc, is an adorable older gentleman. He’s average height and kind of generic looking with white hair on the sides of his head and bald on top. Doc wears a light blue denim button-down shirt with the medical symbol on the breast pocket.
“Now, does this hurt?” he asks with a thick accent that I can’t place.
