Nalla sits near the front door, waiting for Aleksei. And the fucking Russian knows I’m watching. He turns to check, and even though they are on one side of the marina, and I’m on the other, he finds exactly where I am and waves before he grabs her pretty throat and arches her neck while he kisses her.
It’s not a kiss suitable for the lunch crowd dining at Genoa’s only Michelin-star restaurant, but Aleksei is a world unto himself. He stands up abruptly, checking his watch, then dips back down to plunder her mouth again.
I rage. I seethe with jealousy. And wish I was there with them, instead of listening to Valentine run over his expansion proposal for Prostasia.
“Agreed.” I interrupt his reasoning of buying a property that’s just hit the market in Sydney. It overlooks a harbor, apparently, like that’s what I should be impressed by.
Ronin’s mood shifts. I can sense the gathering storm. It’s been getting more and more pronounced during the last hour of our meeting. He and Valentine sit around the large boardroom table behind me. The room large enough to provide the necessary space for our ego, and temperament. It took us a while to find a suitable place where we could hold Alliance meetings, but as soon as we found this hotel, we purchased it, securing this room as ours for as long as we need. The stunning one-eighty degree view of the busy fishing harbour along the Italian coastline was a bonus.
“I get it’s a pretty view, Santiago,” he drawls, his Irish as pronounced as his shitty mood. “But I wouldn’t mind a little more input from you thanagreed. You'd be better sitting down with us again so I can read you because, for some fecking reason, friend, you’re cagey as fuck today. And I got less fucking tolerance than usual.”
“Give me a minute.” I shut him down, focusing on Aleksei as he and Nalla start their walk here.
He takes the same path we took with Quinn the first night we arrived. I watch until he disappears from view, my gaze going back to Quinn and Kade. They’re up paying the bill, which is not what we agreed on.
I pull my phone out. “What’s going on?”
Kade turns to face my direction. “You try telling Quinny to sit still. She just wants to be closer so we can start celebrating as soon as you finish. She also said, watch your back.”
I’m instantly dragged from the Trinity meeting, back to moment earlier when our beautiful wife shared her vision of opening a special clinic up for survivors of trafficking. She’d already made a list of people she wanted working with her, and who she wanted as clinical director. She’d also found a relatively neutral location, along with the ideal property, which she’d purchased. Of course we supported her plans. But of course our wife is also an overachiever, and decided to capitalise on the unique situation she’s in since our pack is tied to this world.
For the right price, she is selling her services as a trauma specialist to powerful people in our world, offering the best medical attention money can buy to people who need to stay off the radar. Like with her passion project of helping survivors, her second venture, will see her personally taking on cases, but she will not be the only one on the books offering confidential care to those in need.
She’s going to succeed in both ventures, our pack will do everything we can to ensure she does. We will also ensure she doesn’t overwork herself and gets to see and enjoy plenty of sunrises from all around the globe.
“Santiago, are you focused? I’m not explaining to Quinny, you got injured in a Trinity meeting. You both assured her you’d be fine, and promised not to get hurt. She’s already worried enough.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing the snarl of frustration at being here instead of being with her. “I’m good.Pleaselook after her.”
Kade says something before he disconnects our call, and at the same time, Valentine appears next to me. “We deservesome answers, Santiago. You’re acting nervous, and considering you’re not a nervous person, it has Ronin and me worried.”
“Does anyone have a weapon?”
Behind me, Ronin starts cursing as he surges to his feet. “Feck me, Santiago. You know we don’t do fucking weapons at these meetings. Are we about to be attacked or something?”
In the reflection of the glass, I see him pulling his phone out. No doubt Keegan is close by. Valentine has his in his hand, too, and I see Dante’s name on the screen.
“Let’s wait on making those calls. At least for a few minutes.”
They both make a similar noise, and the air fogs with their frustration. I wait until the countdown I started as soon as Aleksei walked out of the restaurant is down to the last couple of minutes. The exact time it takes for him to get in the lift, then up to this floor before I start speaking again.
“I’m married. And packed. I’m sure you both understand why I’ve kept that secret very close to my chest. And admittedly, being married and packed opens up a new world of uneasiness. Everything is a threat, and while I don’t see either of you as a threat, you still are.”
“Fecking rude we didn’t get an invite to the wedding, Santiago.” Ronin laughs, because it is funny. None of us would have attended each other’s weddings. We’re too Alpha, too protective of our Omegas.
The thought of them at my wedding, being that close to Quinn, has my hackles raising. I focus on why I’m here as a way of calming down. “There’s a reason for that.”
Behind us, there’s a knock on the door. They both spin around to face the intruder. And that’s exactly how they’d read the knock because the security at this hotel is on par with that at Prostasia. To get access to this floor, you need to be a carded guest, and there’s only ever been three cards.
“Am I wrong to assume you arranged this, Santiago?” Valentine’s tone is as empty as the look in his eyes. This is his lethal side.
He’s angry and feels set up. And that’s fine, relatable, even. He’s about to lose his fucking mind.
Aleksei knocks on the door again. Louder, more insistent, and very, very Russian. “Come on, Santiago, open theyeblyadoor. Let me meet your besties and join yoursoyuz, your alliance.”
Ronin walks closer to where Valentine and I stand, the glare in his eyes screaming more than growing suspicion. He knows.
“Valentine, you’d be hearing that same fucking accent I did, right?”
