“Later, you can choke on my cock, my sweet fiancée, but before you do that, we are taking you shopping. All in the name of a handshake. Then I'm going to see a dying man.”
I shake my head to stop from getting caught up in his world again, the whisper of my confusion finally articulating itself into something coherent.
“Valentine, aren’t you guys supposed to be cold-hearted assholes with trust issues and a propensity for violence?”
He drags his thumb over my mouth. “Never had a real tangible reason to be any other way… until you. Someone looks at you wrong, and I’ll make the Godfather’s actions look like he was a fucking prom queen.”
Although, he does hold my gaze when he drops my phone into the garbage disposal.
“And you did that because?”
“Who knows what’s on it.”
12
Layne
“Dante, you promised!”
“I did not,” he snaps back without smiling, though his eyes flash with mischief. But the look vanishes in the next blink when he drops back into protection mode.
The three of them have been getting increasingly anxious. I know it’s not because of the money they’re spending, because I told them I’d had enough hours ago, and they cooed and soothed like only a pack can. Before spending even more.
I seriously feel like I’ve put in an extreme session at the gym from all the squatting I have done, and I’m definitely hiding how much my side hurts. I never knew pulling up this dress, climbing out of that one, trying on leather pants so tight I had to lie down to do the zipper would be so tiring. The cargo space of the Escalade is so full of designer bags that they spill onto the rear seat. Still, they won’t stop spending.
“Last one,” Matteo says, holding an arm out for me to hold on to.
The front of the shop is all white, except for a small line of black lettering running across the glass spelling outbelloin elegant script. Matteo presses the buzzer, and as we wait, he turns to face me.
“Are you doing okay? It must be overwhelming.”
“Living the dream everyone wants?” I tease him, because it is a dream and I’m somehow the one living it.
“You agreed to this.” He brushes a strand of my hair back behind my ears, his gaze dropping to my lips before he takes a small step back, putting space between us.
When I look at him in question, he smiles. “I am not kissing you for the first time on this doorstep. If it was our doorstep at home, I wouldn’t have an issue, but not here.”
I look at him seriously. “I kissed you the other night, so…”
“I know. But when I kiss you for the first time, I have every intention of taking my time. Okay?”
I don’t get the chance to answer him, because the door swings open, and I see exactly the type of establishment it is—a salon.
“Mr. De Luca and the soon-to-be Mrs. De Luca, I presume?” A stunning, dark-haired, dark-skinned vixen speaks in such a way- it sounds like a husky come on. Her voice is as lush as she is. “Welcome. I’m Dani.”
A look of satisfaction crosses Matteo’s face at her use of “Mrs. De Luca.” The whole day—actually, from the second I agreed to our deal—it’s been a rollercoaster of contradictions, and Pack De Luca seems to enjoy pretending we’re not pretending.
Dani waits for us to both pass before she closes the door, but Valentine stops it with his hand and steps in too. His eyes narrow at her, his mood plummeting to damn near frosty, and I drop my hand from Matteo’s to walk in front of him, wanting an explanation.
Instead of one, I get a small squeeze on my hip before he focuses his attitude on Dani. “You cleared all appointments off your books?”
“Yes, sir, exactly like you asked. I have two attendants waiting, but besides us, the place is locked up.”
“Cameras?”
“No. You made it very clear what would happen if we had cameras recording this afternoon.”
“You won’t mind if I take a look around, then, right?” Valentine walks off without waiting for her response.
