I glance toward the door they disappeared through, then back to Violette, who’s pretending to be interested in a spread on destination weddings.
“Can I ask you something?”
She hums without looking up. “Always.”
“What’s Lars’s deal?”
She stills, just for a moment. Then she flips the page and says evenly, “Definedeal.”
“Why is he single?” I ask, biting back a grin. “Because unless he’s secretly married to his espresso machine, I’m starting to think he might be emotionally unavailable.”
Violette lifts her eyes, her mouth curving with fondness. “That’s because heisemotionally unavailable. But not by nature—by experience.”
I pause, letting the words settle before I ask, softer this time, “Someone hurt him?”
She nods. “A long time ago. Her name was Leilani. They metwhen he was barely twenty-one. She was bold, gorgeous, smart enough to keep up with him…and from a rival family.”
Of course she was, this family can never do anything without dramatics laced in.
“She seduced him, built trust, and then turned around and used him to try to blackmail Enzo during one of his earliest territorial shifts. She wasn’t even a soldier—just a very good actress.”
My stomach twists. “That’s brutal.”
“Lars took it personally. Of course he did. He doesn’t just love quietly…he lovescompletely.And after her, he didn’t trust his own instincts. He didn’t want to give someone that kind of access again.”
I run a thumb across the edge of the blanket. “Has he dated since?”
“A few men. A few women. Nothing that’s lasted. He’s guarded. Selective.” She pauses, then smirks. “He also has a bad habit of sleeping with people he shouldn’t. There was a bartender in Prague…a journalist in Montreal…and a very enthusiastic Spanish ambassador’s son that ended in minor diplomatic panic.”
I laugh. “Wait. Seriously?”
“Oh yes. He’s a Marchetti, through and through—charming, sharp, reckless when it suits him. But underneath it all?” Her expression softens. “He’s lonely. God knows he’ll deny it until he’s six feet under, but he wants someone who sees him. Not the second-in-command. Not the protector. Just…Lars.”
I nod, letting that settle in. “He deserves that.”
“He does,” she agrees. “He just hasn’t met the right person yet. Or maybe he has and pushed them away before they got close enough. I pray it’s not the latter.”
The room goes quiet again, not heavy, just thoughtful. I glance toward the stack of baby books and magazines, then back at Violette.
“I hope he finds his person. I think he would be a fabulous partner and even a father.”
Violette exhales, something wistful flickering behindher eyes. “I think he already is one, in his own way. To Enzo. To this family. He protects and cares for us. Loyal and strong. He’ll make an amazing father if that’s the path he chooses.”
I smile, warm and full. “You’re a damn good matriarch, Violette.”
She chuckles. “Don’t let me get soft now. I’ve got a wedding to plan and a baby to spoil.”
I laugh softly, settling deeper into the pillows, palm resting over my stomach. Our child has no clue how fiercely they’ll be loved, how completely they’ll belong the second they take their first breath.
The airin the war room is already tight when I step inside, heavy with the weight of decisions waiting to be made. Lars has claimed his usual post at my right, relaxed in body but not in eyes. Dom plays the part of indifference, pen spinning, jaw sharp. Cormac’s file is spread open. Stefano doesn’t look up from his laptop, though I know he’s clocked every movement since I walked in.
This is the core. The five of us. No second-tier lieutenants. No advisors. Just the men who’ve built this empire beside me. The ones I trust to hold the line when everything else is crumbling.
I take my seat and let the silence stretch, just long enough to make the weight of it settle across the room like dust.
“Lachlan’s still not talking,” Cormac says. “Thirty-seven hours in a locked room and all he’s done is ask for water and bitch about the lighting.”
Dom huffs. “He thinks we won’t touch him. Still playing the long game.”
