I laughed for the first time in months. I loved seeing my nephew.
“Lil Z!”
I scooped him up before he could crash into the seamstress, hugging him tight as he wrapped his arms around my neck.
Behind him, Zay stepped into the room first.
Emily followed right behind him.
And Ares walked in last.
Quiet.
Watching.
Always watching.
I barely noticed him at first because Emily was already rushing toward me.
“Oh my God, look at you,” she squealed, hugging me tight. “You look so much better.”
“I feel better,” I admitted.
Lil Z was still hanging off me like a backpack while Emily grabbed my hands, looking around the room.
“Girl, what is this?” she laughed. “Did you rent a fashion house?”
“Something like that,” I muttered.
Emily looked around again, wide-eyed.
“I’m not even mad about it. I’m just happy to be out of Los Angeles.”
“Same,” I said immediately.
We both laughed.
Zay leaned against the doorframe, watching us like we were kids again.
For a moment, the room felt normal.
Like we weren’t surrounded by mafia money and family politics.
Emily started rambling immediately.
“Zay said we can go get French manis and pedis, and go have a girls’ day?—”
“We need to talk, Yuna,” Zay interrupted.
Emily groaned. “Already?”
“Yes,” he said calmly.
Ares finally stepped forward with a walkie-talkie.
His voice was smooth when he spoke.
“Personnel, venez montrer à mon invité les chambres à choisir.”Staff, come show my guest the rooms to choose from.
