I squeal, pulling out my phone to text Viviana while Flynn calls Declan. They both agree. My stomach flutters, and I feel like a teenager on her first night out.
We head to the penthouse. Kaden parks underground; the place is massive. Flynn opens my door, and we walk to the elevator. Once inside, he presses the last button, his hand resting around my waist.
“Make sure everything is safe tonight,” he tells Kaden.
Kaden nods, throwing me a smirk.
“What?” I ask, frowning, crossing my arms.
“Who knew a little thing like you would tame a wolf like Flynn fucking Brady?” he laughs, and Flynn punches his shoulder.
“Feck off, Kaden.” Flynn’s Irish accent thickens, and I laugh, but the words settle deep inside me. Tame him? Me?
Truth is, I’m scared. I’ve never felt anything strong before. The stalker chased every man out of my life, every chance I had at a normal moment. Part of me fears he’ll escalate. The other part hopes he’ll leave me alone now that I’m married, especially to Flynn Brady.
We step into the penthouse, and my jaw drops. The place is exquisite. Tall ceilings. Modern iron lights. Black walls. Rugs, curtains, pictures. It feels personal. Alive. Nothing like that cold mansion.
I walk slowly, taking it all in. The black skull ashtray, the leather couches, the shelves packed with books. Then my eyes land on a framedpicture near the huge window. A couple with a small child. A little Flynn with soft eyes.
“My parents,” Flynn says behind me, and his voice carries pain.
“What happened to them?” I ask, then regret it immediately. I want to know him, all of him, but maybe this isn’t the moment. Flynn sighs, taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, exposing strong forearms dusted with veins and tattoos.
“My father died. During the Dark Wars.” His eyes stay on the picture. “I was on my way but got there too late. He knew it could be an ambush.”
Guilt threads through every word.
I reach for his hand and pull him closer. “It wasn’t your fault,” I whisper.
He gives a small nod. I remember the bodies that washed up in the river, the news on TV that lasted a few weeks. Everyone said the Russians were at war with the Irish. But whatever happened, it was a lot more than that.
It was hell.
“You look happy.” I point to the picture, and he chuckles.
“I was. They were amazing parents.” His hand slips around my waist. “My mother couldn’t live without the love of her life. Her heart couldn’t handle it. She passed less than a year later from a heart attack.”
I turn toward him and wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down. “Oh, Flynn…” I kiss him, then guide his head to my neck. His breathing changes, becoming faster, heavier, and I feel the rage and grief rolling through him.
“I haven’t seen my parents in years,” I whisper. He lifts his head, staring at me, and I shrug softly. “We’re very close. They did everything they could, even hired a private detective, but no one could find him. The threats got worse, and I was afraid he’d hurt them, so I left.”
“You’ll see them soon. I promise, trouble.” His hand cradles my face as he leans in and kisses me gently, almost lovingly.
A throat clears behind us, snapping the moment. Flynn rolls his eyes with a smirk. Kaden stands there.
“Everything’s ready for tonight,” Kaden says.
Flynn nods. “There are clothes in the closet in my room.” He steps back and gestures toward the hallway. “Last door.”
“Clothes? For me?” I blink, stunned.
“Of course. You need things at the mansion and here.” He says it like it’s obvious. I let out a breathy laugh, twirl, and stride toward the room as Kaden chuckles behind me.
I open the door. This bedroom feels more modern than the one in the mansion. It’s black sleek furniture, straight lines, lights embedded in the ceiling, a black faux-fur rug by the bed. A massive painting covers half the wall: ravens and dark oak trees. Eerie and beautiful.
There’s a door to the bathroom and one to the closet. I open the closet and find one side full of suits, black sweatpants, and shirts. On the other, women’s clothes. I run my fingers through them. They look expensive, but the tags are gone. He knows I’d panic if I saw the prices. Dresses, jeans, soft sweaters. I pick a short black dress and bite my lip. I hope it looks good.
I hurry to the bathroom. Grey walls, black vanities with gold accents, a walk-in shower, and a tub big enough for both of us with room to spare. I undress and slip the dress on. I check myself in the mirror, tilt my head.
