“I’ve spent my life studying to lock up criminals as a prosecutor. I barely know anything about defense law.”
“So, you go work with our current legal team until you’re confident enough. Or, Layne, you just fucking admit it would literally take you a month of reading for you to be better educated and have a greater insight than most criminal lawyers who have been practicing for years,” Valentine says matter-of-factly, in his commanding Alpha voice.
I shiver past the way it makes me feel and focus on the conviction. The three of them are so right in everything they say. The hesitation is more of a moral realignment, but that was bred into me. Although, most people have the same perception I do—criminals are bad. They are blights on our society that should be stopped at all costs. Perhaps if I hadn’t stumbled into this pack’s world, I would have stayed in the same mindset, even given how shitty my family was to me. But now that I’m here, I have seen firsthand what good, and moralistic, people they are.
Yes, they are violent, and they profit off all the vices that would have the pearl clutchers nearly strangling themselves, but Valentine, Dante, and Matteo, along with the people in their inner circle, are loyal to a fault and overflowing with integrity.
“The first question is the easy one,” Valentine suggests. I don’t turn to look at him when he goes on. “Would you like your academic transcripts and official degree?”
Without hesitation, I answer him. “Yes.”
“The second question Val wants to ask but I will instead—do you want me to wear clothes under the robes, or do you want to feel up your professor real quick before your husbands catch you?” Dante asks.
I laugh so hard, I have to wipe off the condensation from the window.
“Enough,” Matteo says, settling us all down. He squeezes my hand before placing the huge bundle of documents on my lap. “Our wife has plenty of reading material to keep her occupied while we fly. Valentine, you’ve got work to do, and Dante and I have a score to settle.”
Dante keeps a straight face, not saying anything as he reaches inside his own briefcase and brings out a deck of cards and a bundle of fresh hundred-dollar bills. From next to me, Matteo stands and shuffles over to the other seats across the aisle. Dante joins him, along with Legos and Leon, and the four of them gamble and play cards until the flight attendant tells us it’s safe for us to disembark.
The car ride passes uneventfully, but that might just be because my nerves are skyrocketing.
“Am I overdressed? I’m wearing heels. If we’re breaking in somewhere, shouldn’t we all be wearing breaking-in clothes or something?”
Valentine reaches out and nabs my bouncing leg, flicking off my heel and massaging the ball of my foot. “You are dressed like a goddess,” he soothes. “Sit back.”
He says it in such a way, much like the same way he looks at me, that has all my arguments floating away. Valentine andDante talk about a shipment of weapons that safely arrived after the involvement of Ronin, and I zone out completely.
My eyes open back up when the car slows. The underground garage we’re in is full of maintenance equipment and janitorial carts, along with a wall of well-dressed guards.
Legos reaches out to open Dante’s door, and while Valentine slides my shoe on, the others get out of the car.
“You deserve this, you know,” he says, his hand out, waiting for mine. “It’s another step in reclaiming what they took.”
“I’m still a little blown away that you all did this. It’s a huge risk.”
“There is nothing that will ever stop us from helping you find your happiness.”
“Shit, Valentine, you keep saying that, and you’re going to ruin my makeup.”
“Since we can’t be ruining panties, I mean we can but…”
The way he laughs, so honestly and unreservedly, paints the future I want. The future I will fight for.
As soon as I am out of the car, the mood changes. It dips dangerously cold. Inside the car, we were us and carefree, while out here, everyone is wearing their game faces—if games faces were promises of painful and bloody acts of violence.
No one talks, and our steps sound as one. I don’t make eye contact with the people who greet us, the very ones that unlock doors that should be impossible to pass. The last corridor is the darkest and takes us into the heart of the archive room at Yale, and when it swings open, Valentine pulls me to a stop while the others swarm through the darkness.
An emergency light flickers on, and my eyes flare wide when the preparations for our visit are unveiled. I seriously thought Dante was joking and just winding me up with the robe, but a mini stage has been set up, complete with garlands of white lilies and chairs facing the lectern he is standing behind.
Valentine drops me off at the stairs to the stage before he goes and sits down. In the very small crowd are the faces of everyone on the plane, including seats for Bella and Edward. It’s ridiculous.
It’s so absurdly perfect that, when Dante calls out, “Please welcome our next graduate to the stage, Mrs. Layne De Luca,” I burst into tears.
Happy tears.
Really fucking happy tears.
36
