Valentine twists to look at his brother, a flash of violence in his eyes that only encourages Dante until my stomach makes a gurgle so loud, Edward stands up and looks around.
Within a moment, I have an enormous plate of food in front of me, along with sparkling water and a glass of red wine. The food looks like it comes from a restaurant, but the pots and pans overturned on the drainer suggest one of them is responsible.
“Start eating, please,” Valentine insists. “Porchetta stuffed with mushrooms, fennel, and rosemary, with garlic potatoes and sautéed beans.”
I don’t start, because that is next-level rude. I wait until both of them have a plate and are sitting before I even make a move to pick up my knife and fork. They wait, watching until I take a bite before they start to eat. It only confirms what I had figured out already—the members of Pack De Luca were raised by someone with a firm hand, instilling manners in them. I’d put money on it not being Vitale.
Part way through, a small buzzer goes off, and Dante excuses himself but reappears within a couple of minutes. And then we chat about small stuff, like what we eat for breakfast, the last movie we saw, and it only adds to a growing realization of how easily we fit together.
I’ve barely finished when Dante hops up to his feet. “Bath, then bed. Tomorrow morning, we can talk about your past. You are dead on your feet,” he says to me, before looking at Valentine, “and you’re late. You have thirty minutes until the meeting starts.”
“You should have told me,” I reply. “I would have been fine to eat on my own.”
“No. They can wait.”
Dante closes his eyes in frustration before he bypasses Valentine and looks at me. “Valentine and I are both going out. Matteo is doing something else, but Vitale has called us in, along with the other family heads. We can’t not attend. It will look bad. Keep the dogs with you. The whole house is a fortress, and I will activate the security system as soon as we get in the elevator. Will you be okay if we go?”
“Yes,” I answer quickly, because I will be. I feel safe in their home.
“This is not the life I want for you,” Valentine snaps, filling his glass and holding a fierce look.
“Okay.” I shake my head, burying the sting of his words.
Dante chuckles while shoving his brother. “Testa di cazzo. Explain yourself better. Honestly, Val, it’s lucky we share a brain, because sometimes you leave out some pretty important details when you talk to people. Communication is not your forte.”
Valentine scowls before he rethinks, a dawning on his face. “Dante is right—I was being a dickhead, and I will do better. My comment about not wanting this life for you means I want you out with us. If we go out at night, we go together.”
“And I won’t get in the way?”
“My issue isn’t you being able to look after yourself, Layne. It is protecting you from what we’re about to do.”
“And what is that?”
“Ripping the fucking crown off Vitale’s head and drowning all his supporters in blood before we take what is rightfully ours.”
My mouth falls open at his sudden and abrupt confession. Probably because I wasn’t expecting them to tell me. Which is ame issue and not a them issue, because from the start, they have said they need me for that very reason. I just got waylaid by the pretty packaging and the yummy scents. Even though I knew they were born of this world, it still takes me by surprise.
“And when are you doing this?”
After Valentine's sudden explosion, he seems calmer, even though he smiles at me like a crocodile. “At our wedding reception dinner.”
“Before or after dessert?”
Dante laughs so loud and abruptly, he makes me jump before he points down the hall. “Bath. Now. When we get home, I’ll come get you.”
“What? Why?”
But he refuses to answer. We get interrupted when both their phones start blowing up with messages and calls.
“Thanks for giving me today,” I say before ducking away and leaving them to do their thing.
Before leaving, Valentine talks through the door, letting me know the security system is on, and he leaves a note on my bed. I don’t hop out of the tub right away; I soak for at least an hour, even topping up the hot water a few times. Once I am so pruned, I’m worried my skin will never recover, I send Edward out to double-check the apartment. It’s weird to feel as comfortable as I do in their home, but I have been in a lot worse situations and survived just fine.
Edward trots back in after doing his check as I finish my face, using the expensive face creams I snuck back in to grab from the other bathroom attached to the Omega suite. The twins or Matteo must have put the heat on because my room is toasty warm. I climb into bed with just my panties on and read Valentine’s note, which isn’t anything exciting, just telling me what doors will sound the alarm and which ones I can open.
Being relaxed and warm after the bath lulls me into sleepy comfort. I switch off the light and roll over, drifting off almost immediately.
Except, instead of crashing into a dreamless sleep, I hover in light rest. One of the dogs jumps into alert mode and goes out to greet the elevator before I hear the guys arrive back, and then I can hear them talking quietly in the kitchen by the time Edward returns.
