The cocktail dress outlines every gorgeous curve of her figure, the corset bodice fitted to push her tits up and out.The neckline frames the beauty mark at her collarbone, drawing the eye to all that cleavage.
“When I rip it from your body and carry you to the bed, you’ll understand.”I arch a brow.
A pretty flush colors her cheeks.
The top half of her hair pulls into two buns, crowned with black beads.The rest spills over her shoulders in ombré ripples of blue and green.Her legs are bare, unapologetically so, set off by strappy black heels.
“You look lethal.”My dick hardens.“Devastatingly beautiful.”
She looks like she belongs exactly where she is.
“Thank you.”She dips into a curtsy.
I turn to Wolf.“What about you?”
“As my family would say, I’m all in.”He drapes an arm over Dove’s shoulders and strikes a pose.
He wears a similar suit to mine, the tailored cuts made unruly by the man inside it.
A fishnet top sits under the jacket, where a proper shirt would be, skin and scars visible beneath the weave.A pearl necklace rests at his throat, and matching earrings dangle from his ears.
He styled his skater-long hair to sweep across his brow instead of in his eyes.Rings crowd his fingers, and heavy eyeliner sharpens the effect, making his blue eyes impossible to ignore.
“You clean up.”I meet his gaze.
“I know.”He grins.
I think about the room he’ll walk into wearing that suit.The men who will underestimate him because he looks beautiful.The ones who will clock the intelligence behind the style and hesitate.Wolf has always understood optics.Tonight, he’s weaponized them.
We spent the day in bed together, sunlight shifting across the room while we talked about what staying here actually means for them.
Before Wolf and I arrived in Colombia, Dove had already told Matias she would remain if Wolf did.I know that now.I also know I won’t let that be the only condition on the table.
I have demands.
Tonight, I intend to make them clear.
I open the door and step into the corridor.Wolf falls in at my right, Dove between us.We link hands without discussion.It steadies the pace and keeps us aligned as we move through the citadel.
Three people choosing the same direction.
The walk to the dining hall takes ten minutes.By the time we arrive, the room is already coming alive.Chairs slide back.Quiet discussions taper off.One by one, the rest of the twenty-two filters in.
Matias takes his place at the head of the table, Camila on his right and Van on his left.
Camila motions at me then the chair beside her.I take the offered seat with Wolf at my side and Dove next to him.
Conversation fills the table as plates arrive in an endless procession of appetizers.Crispedarepastopped with warmhogao.Bowls ofajiacobroth, fragrant withguascas.
I’m slowly learning the food, but there are a few things I don’t recognize as the hiss of hot plates meets wood.
The aromas of corn, citrus, and slow-cooked meats circulate the room, threaded with the clink of cutlery and the murmurs of easy camaraderie.Family updates are shared, jokes traded, and a few dry comments draw laughter.I answer where appropriate and nod where it’s expected.
Wolf charms without trying, asking a question here, offering an offensive punchline there.Dove listens, eyes moving, absorbing the dynamics with the same attention she gives an engine.
Matias rises.
The room quiets with him, chairs easing back, and conversations tapering into stillness.He lifts his glass and looks down the length of the table, expression composed and satisfied.
