“Relax, Alpha. I mean that I can come and go as I please, as long as I tell you where I’m going.”
Valentine’s eyes continue to slit, but he’s back in the game after being caught, and he just grins back at her. “And you take a guard.”
Her smile falters, and she goes to pull her hand away at the last minute. “I can’t go to work with a guard.”
“You don’t need to work,” Matteo pipes up from the sidelines.
Her hip pops out, and I can see the argument building, the fire in her eyes igniting, as she puts her foot down. “I’m working tonight, or this deal is off, even before we shake on it. How shitty would it be for me to say I would do something—like my job, when I just spoke to my boss—and then not show up? I havepeople relying on me. And besides, you’d think less of me. One day, you’d throw it in my face and say how quickly I flipped on Jana before you somehow made me flip on this deal. This fake deal of ours.” She purses her lips again, her chin lifting as the challenge flares again. “I’m working, with or without your permission.”
Valentine releases a low, threatening growl, probably getting a bit miffed at the “with or without your permission” comment, but amusingly, she stops talking while her eyebrows rise even higher. She’s going to push him—I can see it plain as day—but my brother needs the challenge. He needs a person who will push him to be better and think different, and I think Layne is that person. Then again, I could say the same for me and Matty.
From out of nowhere, when we least expected it, the universe delivered the answer to our prayers. There’s no way I’m letting her escape.
I close the distance and manage to wrap my hand around hers before she and Val start arguing over nothing at all. “Deal. But we cover all your expenses while you live in our house. Any costs that we see fit.”
When she shakes, she gets that same triumphant look in her pretty eyes that my brother does sometimes. “And you’re on your way to becoming my favorite twin.” She teases me with a cheeky grin, thinking she’s won. I mean she has, but so have we.
Not letting her drop our handshake, I tug her closer and use a little of my Alpha influence this time. “I’m with Matty about reclaiming your power with sex, but I’ll also teach you how to fight back better. We can start with hand-to-hand combat while I build you up a nice cache of weapons before together we go make those who hurt you bleed and suffer. Dante De Luca, your favorite fiancé.”
“Layne Miller, your fake fiancée.” Her brown eyes flame when she answers, and her chemically hidden scent dips. ButI catch it. Calling it out would be for nothing. I let it pass, preferring her hand in mine. For the moment.
Valentine steps up, and without saying a word, he demands I give him the opportunity to shake on the deal with her. Then Matteo is doing the same.
Just like that, we end up with a courting pack mate. Which solves about a hundred problems, giving us a chance to breathe, but it also makes us contenders again in the game of being announced as Vitale’s successor.
Of course, Valentine pushes the moment hard, because that is him to a T. He walks off, then returns as quickly as he left, carrying what he wants her to wear. Yeah, we really are old school. He holds our nonna’s antique engagement ring up to the light, pretending to inspect the shimmering, fancy rosette setting with flawless black diamonds. And while he selected one of the smallest from our grandmother's jewelry collection, by the look of horror on her face, size is subjective.
“Thanks for agreeing to wear this,” he says almost too offhandedly as he places the very expensive engagement ring on the island. Without saying another word, but also keeping his eyes locked with hers, he reaches blindly into the cabinet next to him before spraying a liberal dose of the scent blocker all over him, smiling at her the whole time.
Layne does a good impersonation of a stunned mullet—though she’s the most gorgeous fish I’ve ever seen—her mouth hanging open as her eyes flash from the ring back to him. It’s funny how she does the same thing with her eyes when Valentine passes the spray to Matteo, then me.
Valentine got her good. I wouldn’t say he tricked or coerced her, but he certainly led her down the path he wanted her to take when he said,as long as you wear something for uswithout additional clarification. Of course, she followed becausethis Omega, who unwittingly stumbled into our world, has more spunk in her little finger than anyone I’ve ever met.
She also has so much fucking integrity. No matter how much she wants to argue, she won’t, because we shook a deal on her wearing what we wanted, and us wearing what she wanted.
8
Layne
One thing I am not, is stupid. I might be desperate and currently facing an unexpected twist in my journey, but I know a good opportunity when I see it. Hiding in plain sight, under the protection of Pack De Luca while getting paid? Yeah, shaking on that deal was one of the easiest things I’ve done in a while.
Matteo walks ahead, continually checking that I’m still behind him. His concern comes across like nervousness. I’m not sure if it’s his or if he’s nervous for me, but it’s comforting. The more time I spend with him, the steadier I feel. It’s weird not fighting the rise and fall of our designations. He’s just being himself, which I like.
“I thought you could stay in this suite.” He opens a door, and dappled light dances over soft, mushroom-colored carpet.
Unlike the rest of their home, this room is muted, peacefully so. Light streams in the windows that fill the entire wall on one side, but the view is hidden behind opaque glass and white gauzecurtains that look as soft as silk. In spots, there are still patches of sunlight that would be warm to sit in.
“If you don’t like it…”
Unable to speak, I hold my hand up, and Matteo’s voice falls away. I'm thrown by how soft and sweet this room is, in light of the pack who lives here.
My first impressions of their home hasn’t changed much, but sometimes lairs—dark caverns, filled with danger—are exactly what the doctor ordered. That’s what I was prepared for. Not this.
This room is an ideal replica of every Omega fantasy I’ve ever had. The carpet is thick and looks like it would feel like walking on marshmallows. The bed resembles a nest so much that looking at it has my hormones aching—covers and throws, pillows and cushions, silk and satin, mohair and feather-filled blankets—calling me home. But this is not for me. This is for the real De Luca Omega.
Blinking away the longing, I turn to Matteo, meeting his brown eyes that are swimming with anticipation and hope.
“Matteo, I hope we don’t have to argue about this, but I can’t possibly use this room. And, deep down, you know that.” I talk to him in a direct way, intentionally disguising the depth of my emotions.
