Wren
“That bitch,” Mother seethes. “I’ll skin her alive.”
“She’s already out of the country,” I supply, shrugging. “She’ll come back to testify if you don’t take our deal.”
“What I don’t understand,” Father grits his teeth, “is why you’re bothering with all of this. You could just send this out and put us away, so why bother?”
I find myself standing from the table, my hands braced on the hard surface. “I want you to understand something, Father. The only reason I have not had my alphas send this right off to the highest authority is because I don’t want to deal with you siccing other Families after us if you’re in prison. However, believe me when I say that I would still rather you be locked up than running around unchecked. The only way this evidence does not meet the light of day is if you take the deal. Either way, the truth of my safety will come to light—it’s up to you whether or not you’ll be the one announcing it.”
I can see it in his eyes. The resignation. The realization that we have him beat.
But Mother speaks too quickly. “This is ridiculous. You go off for two weeks and suddenly you’re full of yourself. Youreally think that you and your…pack of…” she waves her hand in their direction, “are better than us?”
I’m shocked when I find myself tsking at her. “Mother. It’s not about being better. Though…yes I do. Because we would never sell off our potential children or treat anyone the way you’ve treated us. Really, Mother, where are you manners?” I tilt my head at her outraged expression. “But, I suppose I could say the same thing about us. I haven’t even introduced my pack to you yet. You deserve to know just who it is that picked your daughter up and showed her what love is.”
Father shakes his head. “Love,” he scoffs. “What does love have to do with any of it?”
I smile. “I’ll let you figure that out. This is Teddy,” I motion to him, “my best friend for the entire year before I left home. He was accepted into Oxford University, but declined in order to come to America and be in a punk band. He has a photographic memory and the quickest wit I’ve ever seen.”
I motion to Ethan. “This is Ethan, the alpha that dug up all your lies and dirty secrets with his eyes closed. He’s an amazing cook, and weirdly competitive at Uno. He’s responsible for deleting any emails from your inbox from shady packs that were interested in courting me.”
Brennan smirks as I point to him. “That’s Brennan, he carried me out of Pack Caruso’s house after they tried to induce my heat and he found Victor Caruso strangling me. He was in the Marines for ten years, and is a certified sharp-shooter. He crochets as a hobby, and even though—in his words—he’s not very good at it, he does it anyway because it brings him joy, and I think we should all try to be a little more like him.”
Finally, I motion to Maverick. “And this is Maverick. He also spent ten years in the Marines, partially as a medic. He’s hard on the outside, but has a heart of gold. All my men make me feel safe, but with Maverick? He’s my safety. He’swhat a manshouldbe.” I give my gobsmacked father a death glare. “Thisis my pack. They ground me, and have never once made me feel small or unwanted.”
I think this is the first time I’ve seen my parents speechless. My guys stand, drawing close to me in support. “And guys, these are my parents. Francesco and Lucia Messina—or as you know them, my piece-of-shit father and raggedy-old-bitch mother.”
I’ve never seen their faces turnthatcolor. And not that I have anything to compare it to, but the feeling that takes over me at the sight of them completely at my mercy must be what the drugs my parents sell make people feel.
“This business is betweenus,Wren,” Father growls. “I don’t care who they are, or how they make youfeel,” he sneers, but it falls flat. “I’ll announce that you’re safe, but you need to keep doing the Nest Luxe photoshoots.”
“No.” I shake my head, crossing my arms.
“You’re just going to mooch off this…pack, like you did us your entire life? If you don’t want to feel like a burden, you’ll pay your own way with the money you’ll get from the shoots.” Mother seems to think she’s made a valid point, so I feel like I need to correct her.
“Number one, I did not ‘mooch’ off you. I was your child, not an inconvenience. Number two, you’ve never paid me foranythingregarding Nest Luxe. And number three, not that they would object if that’s what I wanted to do, but no—I’m selling my paintings.”
Mother looks shocked for a split second before an expression of absolute glee takes over. She snorts. “Oh, Wren, sweetie.” She and Father exchange a look like they’re about to drop some hard hitting news on me. “Your paintings arehorrible. Nobody is going to buy anything from you.”
Looks like they’re back to feeling superior again.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear you say that.” I frown, crossing my arms. “Because I painted something just for you.”
Mother leans forward like she’s sharing a secret with my men. “Have any of you seen her paintings yet? It’s cute that she tries, but…”
Teddy huffs a breath, stalking to the nearby wall where my painting is propped up, a tarp hanging over it. “Your daugh’er is the most talen’ed ar’ist I’ve ever seen, and you’re fools to not recognize it.”
He brings the painting to the table, pulling the tarp off with a flourish.
Mother pales.
Father’s jaw drops.
“You…you didn’t paint this.” Mother shakes her head, before gasping like she discovered something. “See! It says Sylvia Bloom on it!”
“That would be my pseudonym.” I smirk, loving the way the light in her eyes dies a little.
“But you…” she shakes her head, “you can hardly even do stick figures!”
