Valentine stands, aiming for relaxed when he shoves his hands into his pockets, but I’d put money on my brother struggling with impatience and frustration. His hands are likely fisted. I get it. I really do. She’s no damsel in distress, but I still want to wrap her up in a mohair wool blanket, hide her in my bed, and treat her like the goddess she is.
“Sixty days with us.” Valentine rushes back into the conversation, his own anxiety spiking in response to hers, making him talk faster and be more abrupt than usual. He rocksback on his heels, likely to stop from picking her up and locking her away from the world. But the small pause makes him calm down again. “You get your own room, but you attend every event, function, or appointment we invite you to. Some may be with just me, or the others, but mostly, it will be as a pack. And all you have to do is act as though we are courting and do whatever is needed to make people believe we are. It might not even take that long for us to achieve what we need. Either way, you agree to be ours.”
Valentine doesn’t let her speak. He hardly takes a breath or blinks as he keeps laying it out, clearly hoping to appeal to her need to stay in control. We’re all aware of the delicacy needed to keep her from bolting.
He stops rocking and faces her. “We’ll pay half now and the rest when we tell the world our courtship didn’t work out.”
Standing, I mirror my brother’s stance and temperament, and her eyes dart my way. “I’ll teach you how to protect yourself, so you never get attacked again.”
Instead of looking impressed, Layne squints, half glaring when she looks at our Beta. “And what about you, Matteo? What are you going to offer as your incentive for me to stay?”
“You look like you need a friend. I can do that,” he says genuinely. Reaching out for her hand, unperturbed by the way she’s looking like she might stab it, Matty’s smile only grows. “But I strongly suggest we also do that friends-to-lovers thing, or friends-with-benefits, and you use my body to find yourself. Plus, don’t forget my car. You get me, you get the car. We already established that when I nearly died.”
This time, when I hissassholeat him, I don’t hide it behind our Italian language. Sensing my irritation, which may or may not be motivated by jealousy, he grins and adds, “How about weekly spa appointments? Or I could do daily bakery deliveries? Do you have a favorite—chocolate croissants,cupcakes, macarons?” He waves a hand. “No matter. I’ll get you one of each.”
When a smile—a real one—blossoms on her face, he keeps going.
He taps a finger to his lips, as though deep in thought. “Oh, I know. A vintage Chanel bag. Doesn’t every woman alive lust after those? A new wardrobe is a given?—”
Layne slaps her hands over face and screams behind them. Another shorter scream of frustration follows before she peeks out from behind her hands. “What the living shit is going on?”
“You’re negotiating with Pack De Luca.” Matteo winks as he relaxes back in his chair, keeping up the calm facade we’re all striving to uphold. “You hold all the aces in your hand, and our offer currently stands at one million per month to act like we’re courting.”
“A million a month!” she screeches before jumping off her barstool and storming over to the fridge.
Without asking for permission, she grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and keeps her back to us while she drinks the whole thing. She’s clearly treading water, and that’s cool; it means she’s considering our offer. We don’t move, all of us enthralled and eager for her response. Seeming more put together than before, she leans against the counter, making sure to look at each of us before she focuses back on our Alpha.
“No.” She shakes her head. But she also waves her hand to tell us to wait while she thinks before taking a small breath. “One hundred thousand a month, paid in untraceable US bank notes. Where possible no photos of our time together. And if we have sex, you agree not to get weird about it.”
I knew she was smart as fuck. It’s inevitable we’ll be fucking like rabbits.
The three of us start nodding heads like those bobblehead figures do, agreeing instantly to her counteroffer. The moneything is a real problem, but her comment about us having sex is all I can focus on. I dig my hands into my pockets and squeeze my thighs to stop them from moving me over there and grabbing her right this second.
Obviously now isn’t the right time, but try telling my brain and my dick that. I pinch my skin as a way to focus, then backtrack through our conversation. The money. It’s embarrassing how little she wants.
I look at my pack mates, and they’re all caught in a similar conundrum. Probably about both the money and the fucking thing too.
She doesn’t look away or fidget. “And one last thing—you all agree to wear scent blocking spray.”
That all but confirms how fucked by an Alpha she has been. Scents are as important as facial expressions or the cadence and tone in speech. It can tell a lot about a person’s intentions. Some Alphas use the ability to scent as a powerful persuasion to take whatever outcome they want. I’d say she was still too thrown by the situation with whoever it was who gave her the bruises to be able to trust her nose and intuition at this stage. She’s using whatever alternate means she can. Taking the influence of scents and her ability to scent out of the equation is a short-term solution though.
“Of course,” Valentine agrees quickly. God, he’s good, but I also know all this has been a song and a dance to get her to where he was always going to take her. He’s so even and measured in his approach, smiling softly at her. “As long as you wear something for us, we can easily agree to your request to wear scent blockers in our home.”
Her shoulders relax, and she blows out a loud breath before standing taller again, rightly sensing we’re finalizing the details of our fake courting arrangement. “We do it old school. A handshake only. You’re all honorable and trustworthy, right?”
Little vixen nearly beats him at his own game, and it’s an interesting development that she doesn’t want a paper trail. It not only confirms her dark past, but also how different she is from the greedy, vengeful bitches in our world.
“We do it old school.” Valentine stands, his hand outstretched in agreement.
She closes her eyes, her lips moving, like she’s talking to herself again. Maybe she’s talking herself into or out of it, but when she takes a step forward, my pack mates all breath in relief.
“Okay. I agree to help you out for sixty days in a fake courting arrangement. One hundred thousand a month, and I can come and go as I please.”
Her words are like a punch to Val in the face.
“Wait a goddamn minute,” he snarls, getting all loud and blustery.
This time, she doesn’t react. Instead, she coos softly, smiling sweetly, letting me get a read on her damn fine negotiating skills but also her saucy side. She teases and traps him so effortlessly, it’s spectacular. I should be worried and protective of my brother, but I’m as spellbound as he is.
