The three of us share a look while she starts eating. It’s not acan you believe she accepts our word so quick?It’s more likewho fucked her up so much, she has to triple-check that she’s not being poisoned?While she’s tentative, she’s also clearly hungry. Once she gets a taste of the frittata, she digs right into it.
Matteo’s fork clatters out of his grip when she makes a low moan, his eyes blacker than usual as he doesn’t even bother hiding what the noise does to him. “But, clearly, you’re trying to kill us.”
Instead of stopping eating or enjoying her food, she rolls her eyes and takes an even bigger bite. That sass of hers flares to life as she stares at him and swallows without making another sound of enjoyment.
“Stronzo,” I hiss at Matteo, slapping the back of his head.
Her fork hangs in the air, her head tipping to the side in question as she looks at me for answers.
“I called him an asshole. Food should be enjoyed. You want to moan when you eat? I’m all for it. I’m a big believer that pleasure should be loud and never denied.”
Shrugging, she returns to the plate of food in front of her, and the four of us fall into a companionable silence, listening to the news playing in the background. Although, I wish we were listening to her eating, but either way, it feels comfortable having her in our home, which is fucking weird, considering she’s a stranger. But it's a nice weird.
The moment she sees me put my fork down, since I’m the last to finish, Layne stands and clears the plates, completely ignoring our offers to help. Once she’s done, she drags her stool around the island, away from us, before she climbs back on it and waits for us to explain why she’s here, and probably why we haven’t killed her.
Matteo goes to speak, but Valentine stops him with a look. Though we don’t usually get caught up in roles and ranks, Valentine is today, for some reason. He takes over the conversation in his role as leader of our pack.
“Pack De Luca owes you a life debt for saving Matteo’s life.”
I watch her reaction as he talks. It’s my job as enforcer to assess people, and I’m pretty savvy when it comes to reading people. But watching her is like watching daisies grow in a blizzard—completely unexpected, and not just because she’s so fucking pretty to look at. It’s in the way she reacts, which is almost the exact opposite of how most people would. Insteadof getting caught up in the notion of being owed something by someone as powerful as Valentine, and in turn the Gambrillo Family, she scoffs, unimpressed.
It’s as if what he said is exactly what she expected him to say, and it pisses her off. It’s also apparent she has little regard for the honor of being offered a life debt, which, in our world, is a big fucking deal. Her mood drops, and in case we needed clarification on how she feels about the whole situation, she crosses her arms over her chest, purses her lush lips into a sneer, and stares my brother down. “No.”
Valentine recoils, like he’s been physically slapped.
He reacts quickly, his dominance surging to life, changing almost everything about him, including his ability to let her snub go. He rises to the bait, sitting taller in his seat as his Alpha designation becomes more pronounced. “It is not up for discussion. We owe you. Your choice is a life debt or…” He growls, his lip twitching for a moment as he takes a dramatic pause.
I’ve seen my brother lose his shit too many times to take notice, so I watch her. Instead of being intimidated by Valentine, she looks amused, but I also know my brother is toying with her like a cat does a mouse, and I want to see her reaction when he has her exactly where he wants her. She half glares at him and tips her head to the side, waiting for him to keep talking.
“I guess the thing with a life debt, it comes with lots of notoriety. People will know what you did, and they will know who you are. But the simple fact is we can’t just let you walk out of here without some sort of arrangement in place. If anyone heard Matteo was injured and we didn’t recompense you properly, it would make us look bad. Judging by the distasteful look on your face you agree in part to what I am saying. Maybe there’s an alternate we could consider.”
Then it’s her turn to look a little thrown at being called out maybe. She recovers quickly and waves him on. “Go on.”
And that’s when I do look at Valentine, who appears fucking triumphant already. “Perhaps the answer is we take a more quid pro quo approach. You help us, and we’ll help you.”
Layne stares at him for a solid couple of seconds, then throws her head back in laughter, doing a better job than Matteo’s act of dying earlier. Once she gets herself under control again, she smiles saccharinely at him. “We were talking ridiculous life debt scenarios and now you’re suggesting me help you by choice? What is going on right now?”
Valentine intentionally makes his designation fall away, so he’s less dominant and confrontational, to confuse her. Then he’s the one to smile at her. “All we need is…two, maybe three, months of your time.”
Her smile drops, and her mood shifts as much as his does. Now she’s suspicious of him. “Doing what? And why?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, looking right into her pretty caramel-colored eyes before he drops his voice, his Alpha influence coming into effect again. But it’s gentler, alluring almost, and he does it in a way that makes it impossible for her to look away. “We’ll make it worth your time of course but you let us court you. Publicly.”
For the first time since she walked into our home, into our world, Layne appears truly intimidated. The argument in her eyes, and the fight in her spirit, falters. I can see it in her eyes and the tension rising in her body. She swallows but doesn’t make a sound.
My twin jumps in to fill the silence, because now he must be feeling like a bit of a dick, and he’ll want to soothe her rising fears. “Along with the bruises on your face—that you’ve hidden very well, I have to say—Matteo also said you have more bruises hidden under his jacket, along with wrapping along your torso.”
She looks away, a slight shake of her head that neither confirms nor denies his statements.
I clear my throat. “So, helping us might just help you deal with that problem too. We can protect you, and you can stay here.” I don’t need to look at my pack to know they’re already including hunting down the person or persons responsible as a way we will deal.
Her gaze jumps to mine, and even though she wasn’t sharing much before, now she’s locked up tighter than a vault…except, she doesn’t manage to completely hide the coldness in her eyes.
Valentine, Matteo, and I are eager to ease her growing anxiety—which we’re responsible for in the first place, but that’s not the point. Matteo reaches out for her hand but doesn’t try to grab it. It’s merely a gesture to get her attention. “I’m sorry I had to share your secret with them. We can help you, even if it’s just with a place to rest. We’d pay you and help you get back on your feet.”
Layne shakes her head. “I have somewhere to stay. I have money.”
She might have money, but it’s not much. The clothes she wears aren’t new; the sneakers on her feet should have been replaced miles ago. And, despite having somewhere to stay, the evidence of her exhaustion shows in her eyes, all but confirming that she doesn't feel safe enough to properly rest.
