“Can someone serve the parmigiana?” I ask, with a sudden realization.
“Food is no longer on our list of priorities tonight,” Eli says. “Focus on how you feel right now.”
“And what we’re gonna do to you once that inks in your skin,” Doc says ominously.
And I do. I think and I dream, and I wonder how this is my life and what color my future children’s eyes will be.
An hour or so later Adriano turns off his machine. “Complete,Pryntsesa.”
I sit ramrod still as he coats it in a layer of petroleum jelly. I still can’t believe it’s done. Doc, Bobby, and Eli gather around me, and Doc gives a low whistle. “God, that’s fucking hot.”
“You look great,” Bobby says enthusiastically. “Perfect.”
“It’s more than adequate,” Eli murmurs. “Stand and look in the mirror,bella.”
I know the mirror he means. The full-length one with the gilt frame that I’ve always avoided if I can. It’s huge and everything reflected in it looks slightly different from reality. Brighter and darker at the same time. I stand, trembling slightly, and cross the carpeted floor to the mirror. Avoiding my own gaze, I turn and examine the back of my right arm. My heart flips over when I see the design. It’sbeautiful. Smaller than the other guys, smaller than it felt when Adriano was working on it. A tiny apple, stuck through with four swords.
“One for each of you,” I say, tracing a finger in the air above them. “Are your names…?”
But as I lean in, I can see them, inked in minuscule letters along the blade.
Domenico. Roberto. Elliot. Adriano.
My eyes fill with tears. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You’rebeautiful,” Eli corrects. “But the design takes nothing away from you.”
My men gather behind me in the mirror, pulling their shirts aside again so that all five of our new tattoos are reflected back at us. I smile at myself. I look like a queen, tall and regal with my handsome men behind me. Proud Doc, Charming Eli, Stoic Adriano, Kind Bobby. I feel a sense of security and power flow through me like it’s been given by someone else.
I am the woman who runs this house, I think.And I am safe and powerful and loved.
At that moment, I make up my mind. I find Doc’s blue gaze in the mirror. “I want to do Orchard.”
“Huh?”
“Tonight,” I say clearly. “Before we start trying for a baby. I want to take Orchard and sleep with all of you at the same time.”
Doc’s face cracks into an evil smile. “You’re so fucking on, Tits.”
Chapter Six
January Whitehall
The Orchard dripsonto my tongue, tasting as it did the first time the guys gave it to me: a Jolly Rancher, artificial apple flavor. But the difference between that time and this couldn’t be starker. I’m not on my knees in front of four strangers, held still only by the threat of violence. I’m lying in Eli Morelli’s California King bed, fully clothed, Doc’s hand gentle on my neck. He tips the last of the tiny vial onto my tongue, then kisses me softly.
“Buckle up, Tesorina. You’re in for a hell of a ride.”
What a difference a year makes, I think and swallow the last of the aphrodisiac that both made and broke my men.
Orchard is the drug Doc invented and Mr. Parker killed for. Pleasure and pain in one sweet liquid. Discovering Orchard should have made Velvet House rich, but it has a fatal flaw. It reacts terribly with a common food stabilizer, making your throat close. Doc’s sister almost died when she ate ketchup after taking Orchard and the reaction can’t be fixed. It’s why Doc refused to sell the drug’s formula to Mr. Parker, afraid of how reckless he might have been with it.
“How do you feel?” Bobby asks, shifting nervously at the foot of the bed.
He didn’t want me to take Orchard, worried that I’m already too stressed from my tattoo or that I’ll accidentally eat something that will react with the drug.
“Calm your tits,” Doc snaps. “January knows the deal. For the next few days, it’s paleo or nothing.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I tell Bobby. “It’ll be like a food challenge!”
